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#i hear u! i see u!! my heart hurts for u!!! but i don't think this blog is a good platform for very heavy vents :(
tea-and-secrets · 9 months
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please check the submissions rules (pinned) before you submit!!! i'm loosey-goosey with what qualifies as a "secret", but the subject rules are more hard-and-fast :(
gently, this isn't the place to submit heavier vents!! a blog like this can't award them the care they deserve. i feel uncomfortable posting heavier/traceable vents, it's not responsible for me to platform things that could be triggering or traceable to the person who submitted it ;;
sending all my love + i hope things are gentler and more settled going into 2024 💖💖 :)
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arminsumi · 1 year
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First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?
Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!
LET ME MARRY YOU
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."
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2k
Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything
Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open
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The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.
What if something happens to you?
He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.
There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.
That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;
I want to marry you.
I'm going to marry you.
Please let me be your husband one day.
As if he's trying to manifest it.
Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.
It's October 11th.
Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.
He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.
He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.
He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.
He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.
But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.
He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.
Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.
Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.
The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.
"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.
He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.
His earthly goddess.
The purpose of his benevolent actions.
He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.
It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.
Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."
He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.
It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.
"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"
"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.
It's a stark bright day.
Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.
You open it.
He looks at you, and you look at him.
"Hi."
"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"
Your voice fills his heart with life.
"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."
"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."
Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.
There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.
"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.
"I'll always find my way home."
A silence ensues after he says this.
"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."
"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."
"... me too."
"... why did you leave?"
He stares at you.
"... I was scared of you being in danger."
He gulps.
"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."
Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...
"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."
"... yeah, duh."
He smiles meekly.
It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.
He hesitates. He contemplates.
"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"
"Of course. What is it?"
He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.
Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.
But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.
Let him just...
"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."
"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"
"Can I?"
"... what?"
"Can I please?"
"... huh??"
"Can I marry you, please?"
He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.
Can he? Will you let him?
It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.
"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.
He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."
"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."
You make him laugh. "Yeah..."
"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"
"No."
"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."
You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.
"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."
"You're damn right..."
"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."
"Satoru."
"Yes?"
His heart throbs. He looks at you.
"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."
"Oh."
You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.
So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.
"I'm sorry."
Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.
"My angel..."
When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.
He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.
Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.
Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.
"...Satoru?"
"Marry me."
You chuckle again.
"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.
He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.
"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."
On the verge of saying your name.
He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.
"Will you think about it?"
"I will."
There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.
"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."
"That took you, like, ten seconds."
You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"
He's silent.
"I have no idea."
"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.
His heart flutters at 'future husband'.
"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."
The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.
In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
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hyuckmov · 1 year
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haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 2 of 3
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wc: 18k (yay!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), a bit of fluff warnings: wet dreams, jerking off, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, making out, praise kink, strength kink (? he's strong...) crying during sex, dirty talk, aftercare...? petnames (baby, princess), and ... names needs to be read after part 1 i think! a/n: shorter warnings list lmfao anyway.... i....this took me awhile but i really hope u enjoy this and the way it reads. let me know what you think and please be kind :) thank you thank you THANK YOU to every single one of you on my taglist and if you've sent me an ask, reblogged, or left a comment. i could not have finished this without u
haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — especially to you. 
he knew what he was doing each time he showed up around you at a party, love bites staining his skin and hair messy and wild. he noticed the way you recognised the perfume on him with a crinkle of your nose, or the slight flicker of sadness in your eyes when his phone would vibrate against the bedside table, wandering to the names on his phone. he could feel the way your shoulders tensed when he smiled blankly at you, track your movements as you looked away when he was cozying up with someone else. 
and most of all – he knew that beyond that, you couldn't go to him for all your hurt. and that was what would be most painful, the knowledge that everything you had to suffer was unjustified, feelings not tied to reason, because he never made you any promises.
haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — and he always hoped that his touch could be a good enough apology. 
all throughout rehearsals, when they took the trip to the venue, back to when he had woken up that morning, something had stirred in his chest. he was never nervous before shows, but this time he fiddled with his guitar mindlessly, wandering over to the bar and ordering just a few drinks to hopefully dull the way his heart was racing in his chest, alcohol burning a path down his throat. he picked at the way his hair fell over his eyes, re-doing his makeup before the show with the black eyeliner that he couldn't hold without thinking of you. his bandmates watching him carefully, not knowing what had changed. he wouldn't be able to tell them if they'd asked. 
it was only when the girl in the bathroom had stumbled away on shaky feet, leaving one last slick touch on his arm as a goodbye, when all his feelings that had ached in him that day came crashing down in his chest, that crushing weight he couldn't ignore each time he tried to breathe. 
you had kissed him — and it felt like a promise. 
it was this thought that now stung at him, as he watched the numbers on the screen of the elevator flick higher and higher. he had made his way to your apartment as if on autopilot, driving down streets now too familiar. he always knows the hurt he causes you — and he feels it now, like retribution, because even now he has no right to be angry at you. no right to blame you for his hurt, because while he had never made you promises, in reality you hadn't either. 
but the reality was he was here now, knocking on your apartment door. 
"y/n?" 
there's warm light seeping out under your apartment door, he can see all your shoes on the rack outside. jaemin's not home, but you definitely are. 
he knocks again, a bitter taste in his mouth. 
"y/n, i know you're home." 
his hand curls into a fist, and he hits it against the door, twice. he thinks he can hear something beyond the door, a clink of something like keys, so he raises his voice, the tone of it rough. 
"are you happy now?" 
mark has told him he gets vindictive when he's hurt or scared, has urged him to think before he speaks. 
"does it make you feel like you have the upper hand? standing me up?"
but haechan can't distinguish what he's feeling right now. 
"because i don't care at all," he spits, lies he'd never rehearsed, the alcohol mixing with thoughts he didn't even know he had, to inflict the cruelest hurt. "at least i know the girl i fucked didn't feel any different." his voice dips low, cold freezing over each syllable. "i hope you know even if you went, i still would've picked her. it didn't make any difference." 
the night is still, and quiet. his words seem to swell in the air, ringing around in his head. he stands in front of the door, head lowered, hand still lingering on cool surface, breaths dragged out of his lungs painfully. he waits for so long, that he wonders if he was speaking to no one at all — if you'd been asleep, if he imagined the sounds beyond the door.  
but then there's a soft click, and the door drifts open. 
the moment haechan sees you, he feels it like a shot to his chest, because something was terribly wrong. 
it's not just the tears running down your cheeks. 
your face is blotchy and red, dark circles under your teary eyes, your hair mussed up and tangled. you're wrapped in layers of clothing despite the cool summer night, your body still trembling with cold, and when you speak, your voice is so hoarse and broken that it makes goosebumps break out over his skin — and an achy tone he never wanted to hear from you ever again.
"it didn't make a difference?"  
his lips part. he tugs on his jacket, trying to to close it, to pull up his collar a little higher, but it's too late — your eyes are already reading the marks on his skin, drinking in every last detail of him. 5 minutes ago he had wanted nothing more than for you to open the door and see him exactly like this — lipstick smudged lips and fucked out eyes, the smell of fake roses clinging to each fibre of his clothing, the rips in his jeans tugged this way and that.  
and all at once he knew — you had wanted to go, and he just accused you of the worst thing. you were going to go, and now he was forcing you to look at him like this. if the trip here made him feel vulnerable and bruised, he knew it must have felt like this for you too on the nights he didn't ask for you — the two of you sharing feelings that you weren't supposed to have, that you couldn't justify.  
now haechan sees the way your face crumples, tears gathering on your waterline. you lift your hands to wipe them away, and it's like he can feel the way your chest shakes with wounded sounds and choked sobs, your fingers clenching into fists as you bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears.  
"y/n-" he breathes. "are you…is everything —" 
"s-so you didn't mean it? when you invited me?" you're trying to steady your breathing. every second that passes where he's watching you fall to pieces in the doorway feels like it's searing into haechan's skin, the heavy feeling in his chest increasing tenfold with guilt. he swallows, as he watches you take a few deep breaths. "i thought… i thought it meant…when you invited m-me you said you weren't making empty promises —" 
"i wasn't." he bites his lip, taking a step towards you. "y/n —" 
but you back away. "i was going to go, haechan. i was really going to go –" 
"i know." he knew now. 
" — but i've been sick since yesterday, and it wasn't getting any better, i couldn't leave the house –" 
"why didn't you tell me?" he desperately wants to run away, but he knows it's worse for you. 
your voice is small. "i don't have your number."
it had slipped his mind. it was something so stupid, something so small – how he never wanted to give you a way to talk to him, or give himself an easy way to access you, didn't want things to be too easy. all of it had slowly built up to that feeling each time he glanced at his phone that night, clutching the lifeless device in his hands. 
the last thing he should do, if he ever wanted to see you again, is blame you. he bites back his question of why you didn't ask jaemin for help, wrapping his jacket around his body self-consciously, running a hand through his hair.  "i forgot," he whispers. hurt flickers across your face again. 
"i d-don't know why i thought this would be different." you wipe at your face, biting your lip again to keep from trembling. "i hoped that maybe, even if i couldn't show up, you'd come here and take care of me. when i heard you outside the door…" 
the words have a bitter bite to them, and you spit them out like you hate the taste in your mouth, hate every memory associated with his care. 
"i'll take care of you," he pleads, quickly, stepping towards you. 
he doesn't know what he expected, if you'd showed up. maybe he'd play for you, and leave with your hand in his. maybe he could have taken you in his car, or in his soft sheets at home. brought you out for a late dinner, sit with you and let you pry him open as you always did. or maybe he'd say nothing at all, and nothing would have changed – he didn't know. 
his touch has always been his apology, always his way of reaching you through the only sure thing the both of you wanted from each other. but the look on your face tells him that the brush of his fingertips against your skin is only cruelty. 
"you're fucked up if you think i'm letting you take care of me now," your voice is grating, rough on his skin. 
"but i-"
"you'll hold me like this? force me to stare at the marks on your chest? breathe the perfume that isn't yours?" your tone is harsh and accusatory. he takes it all. "what were you going to do, if i showed?" 
and for once, haechan can't help but be honest. "i don't know," he mumbles, and he sees the words hit you like a strike to your face.
"you knew i wanted more," you whisper. "you knew i wanted to be close to you, but you always…you always –" 
"wanted?" he asks, quietly.  
"you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. whatever person lies behind all that…" your tears have stopped, your voice unfeeling. the numbness in you mirrors his own. "i want nothing to do with him." 
he can't think of anything to say. he reaches out a hand, and for a moment you let his fingers graze your arm, fear and hurt in the way they curl around your wrist, begging you to hold on to him too. you're scaring him, and he doesn't know how to go back, but he knows he deserves everything you're saying to him. deserves the way you shake free of his hold and close the door, his feet stumbling over themselves as he backs away. 
you said you didn't want to know him, that you didn't know him at all. but he can't help thinking that's not true, because you knew him enough to know exactly how to hurt him through the walls, through the boy he pretended to be, right through his chest and past his ribcage, right into his aching heart. 
ever since your fever broke, your life had been quiet. 
you go to all your classes. you cut down on coffee by getting sleep at night. you take walks with jaemin around the neighborhood, falling back into old routines. movie nights, and grocery trips. he was coddling you, and you felt it every day — coming home to warm meals, the way he was more forgiving over little disputes. you didn't deserve it, watching him slip out of the front door quietly, camera bag slung over his shoulder. 
you didn't deserve it, because you ached to follow. 
some part of you was still trapped inside your room, heady and aching, desperately trying to reach him. needing his apology, needing him to recognise the way he hurt you. you couldn't look for answers in your memories, but you played each scene back in your mind like a looping film reel, letting images suffocate you — his jacket falling open, love bites marking his skin, all the times he's slipped from your grasp. and yet, other fragments come back too — the warmth of his hand on yours in the car, the slight tilt of his head as he brought his gaze level with yours, seeking you out when things got too much. his quiet answers in the dark, the slow smile that spread across his face that made you glow, knowing you'd made him happy. 
"he got off lightly," you tell jaemin one night, the both of you on the floor by the couch. ice cream and wine drip condensation on the table-top, and the both of you are too heavy with the rush of sugar and alcohol, the clock ticking in the silence of the room as you sit.  
"you just want to see him again," he'd replied, quietly. "don't you?" 
"i just wish we could have talked." your voice is small. you and haechan never truly talked, except for some nights in the dark, lying in his arms afraid to breathe, afraid of breaking the tenderness that swelled in the room, afraid of turning on the lights to see who you were holding in the shadows.
"and then what? you'd be together?" jaemin glances over at you, and the concern in his eyes makes you shrink back even more. you were supposed to be doing better. everything in your life was right, it was exactly the way it should be — but why did you feel empty? 
"then i'd at least have closure," you mumble. "i'm never going to get any answers unless i talk to him." 
a brief expression of discomfort crosses jaemin's face, but it's gone when you blink. 
"i just don't want you to see him again, and forget all the ways he hurt you." 
you don't say a word. both of you knew that it was something too likely to happen. 
it's dark in haechan's room. the boy liked it shadowy, black-out curtains drawn over the windows, the air cool from air-conditioning, an air humidifier spewing light blue mist in the corner. the boy sitting in bed had his guitar in his lap, picking at the strings quietly, his phone face-up on the bed next to him, recording his ideas. he was swaddled in a large hoodie, swallowing his frame, shorts riding high on his thighs as he curls into himself. 
he doesn't look up when mark shuffles in, closing the door behind him quietly, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light. 
"jaemin's outside." 
haechan nods. "i heard you." his voice is a soft sound, boyish. mark has heard it enough growing up, that he knows haechan is scared. he knows haechan is waiting for answers, waiting for the verdict.
"he says he'll only continue to work with us if you stop seeing… y/n." 
the name trips in his mouth, clumsy. it feels strange to use it, especially around haechan, who knows you more than any of them do, like he's saying something he's not allowed to, a boy using an expletive he doesn't understand. haechan's body tenses when he hears your name in mark's voice, predictable, almost laughable — the slight tightening of his nimble fingers on the neck of the guitar, slip of his fingers on the guitar pick. 
"okay." and the boy goes back to playing. 
"you'll stop seeing y/n?" 
"yeah." mark moves closer to the bed, sees haechan's lower lip caught in his teeth. 
"haechan, stop." 
the boy shakes his head roughly, plucking at the strings a little harder. 
"what happened? what happened between you and y/n?" 
"i'll stop seeing her." 
"stop acting like i don't know you," mark mumbles, finally sitting down on the bed. haechan stills, as mark pulls the guitar away from him, his hands going limp as he lets mark set it down at the foot of the bed. "i hate it when you do that."  
"i'm sorry." a beat, then haechan buries his face in his hands, pulling at his features, before letting his arms drop down to the bed again. "could you…could you at least tell her?" 
"tell her what?" 
"that jaemin told me to stay away." haechan fiddles with the hem of his shirt, head still lowered. "i…i shouldn't be the one avoiding her. she should be avoiding me." 
"is there a difference?" 
"yeah." he mumbles his words, plush lips barely forming each syllable. "because i hurt her. i can't hurt her and then ignore her…that's…that's not right."
"so you want to keep seeing her?" 
"i just want…" his voice is hollow, and when he looks up at mark — the dim light in the room catching on the features of his face, mark can finally see the way his lips were raw, skin torn and bitten. his eyes, usually sharp and piercing, are puffy and swollen from crying, dazed pupils blinking up at him. "mark, i don't think i've ever hurt someone like this before."
mark wonders what he could have done, but he doesn't ask. "do you want to make it right?" 
"i don't know how." he swallows, throat bobbing. "i don't know if i can." 
"maybe avoiding her isn't the best thing…" mark starts, putting a hand on haechan's arm, but haechan flinches. 
"the band will kill me. jeno will kill me." mark opens his mouth to argue, but already haechan is leaning back against the headboard, head lowered and looking down at his lap. "i'll do it. i won't see her again."
"it'll be fine" mark reassures, softly. "in a few weeks, after a few more people, you'll forget all about her." 
neither of them really believed it. 
as jaemin sits on the couch — jeno sprawled on an armchair with jisung perched on the armrest, mark sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he thinks about how these boys have become his close friends. he fits in with them in a way he never has with his other clients — evenings spent photographing them, understanding them through the lens of his camera. cycling trips with jeno, bringing out mark's competitive streak as they drank in the kitchen, babying jisung and taking care of him when the other bandmates weren't around to do so. 
and of course, getting to know haechan — teaching him how to use a camera, chatting with him easily about the city. if jaemin was to be honest, haechan intimidated him a little with how guarded he was, every sentence he spoke to jaemin felt like it'd been turned over a million times in his head, each word careful and poised. he also disappeared for long periods of time, sometimes never there during parties. 
now jaemin knew what the time had been spent on. who he'd spent it on.
"we're really sorry." it's mark who speaks up first. jisung nods in agreement, while jeno looks on. 
"i don't need you to be sorry," mumbles jaemin. "it's not your fault." 
"still…" mark scratches the back of his close-cropped hair tentatively. "he mentioned it."
"what did he say?" 
"he didn't tell us everything," jisung says, voice hushed. his hair falls over his eyes as he ducks his head in thought. "mostly just told us to stay away." 
"did he sound like he wanted them to be exclusive?" 
mark and jisung exchange a glance, but it's jeno's voice that answers just as mark's lips part. 
"no." when jisung bites his lip, jeno raises his eyebrows, annoyed. "are you kidding? he just said he fucked her more often, and that we should fuck off." 
jisung looked wounded. "he didn't say that." 
"but that's what he meant." 
"mark?" 
jaemin calls out to the boy, bringing him out of his thoughts. mark was staring at his own hands, a frown creasing his face.
"haechan agreed," he says, slowly. your name lingers on the tip of his tongue as he says it, like he's tasting the sound, the unfamiliarity of it in his mouth. "i…i think i might know what's going on with haechan, but it's up to him to explain, not me." 
"so he won't see her anymore?" 
the words come easily to jaemin. he knew it was the deal he was going to make the moment he texted mark to ask if they could talk. he was willing to lose his growing friendship with the rest of the boys if it could give you peace, if all of you could go back to the way things were. 
he think back to how he found you — struggling to head out of the door the previous day, barely able to make it to the door, the fever burning up your brain and making your bones ache. he thinks of coming back home to you after he'd went to the pharmacy to get you medicine, slipping his shoes off at the door and immediately knowing that something had changed, from the tears streaming down your face. 
"how did this happen?" 
"he came to see me" you mumble, struggling with the sleeves of the thick sweater you were trying to pull your arms through. the moment you straighten, you wince as a dull pain throbbed through your head, hunching over again as stars blinked in your vision. 
"haechan?" 
he sets down the bag of medicine on the kitchen counter, picking up the thermometer and pointing it at your forehead. the light on the screen blinks red, and his eyebrows furrow, the displeased expression on his face only growing stronger. 
"why did you open the door?" he asks, slowly. "i thought we talked about this." 
"i thought…." your voice is scratchy, as pressure seems to rise inside your skull, pain that made your eyes tear up. it's laughable that you thought he would take care of you, and instead he ripped you to pieces. tears well up in your eyes again, and your lips part, only to let out a small sob. 
he grips onto your arm, gently but firmly, steering you back towards your room. you don't have any strength to fight back, it felt like the temperature in the room was at freezing point even though jaemin was only wearing a thin shirt and shorts, and the ache in your bones made every movement shoot pain through your nerves. even after lying down on your bed, swaddled in blankets, the dim light slightly easing the pain in your head, you were too weak to lift your head, stretching your fingers out over the blanket and crawling towards where jaemin's hand rested on the sheets. 
he held your hand and listened to you talk, knowing you needed to let it all out. he didn't judge, he didn't make faces. just listened with his eyes closed as you told him about meeting haechan, the way he pulled you away from everyone else and how you'd followed. he observed you quietly through his lashes as you sniffled, breaths breaking up your words. 
the story got harder to tell when you recounted moments of his tenderness — when he'd call you his, when he took care of you, when he'd promise to be harsh with you but never went through with it, the way his face fell when you cried. you stuttered and hesitated through it all, because you didn't know if any of it was real or just imagined.
jaemin knows he could have hurt you further — broken every last illusion, pierced through the image of haechan you had in your head. but he didn't have the heart to, so this was the best he could do — making sure it stopped. 
"it's done," mark nods, but he looks unhappy. 
jaemin doesn't feel the weight lift from his chest like he thought it would. he feels jisung move to sit next to him, a hand on his shoulder as he observes his face. 
"i'm really sorry," he mumbles, lips barely moving. 
"it's not your fault," jaemin replies, leaning back against the cushions, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. 
haechan is dreaming again. 
except it's more memory than dream, the way you're laid up against the pillows, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaves kisses on your inner thighs. it's so vivid, the way you taste, the twitch of your muscles as you tense around him, the small gasp as he pulls away to sit back on his knees. 
"please-" you whimper, needy from being teased. scrabbling, you bring your knees to your chest, hands trembling as you hook them on your thighs, tears smearing your cheeks with a dewy glow. you were trying to keep your voice quiet, small sounds barely escaping your lips as you bit down on them, pleading with him through murmurs and barely coherent words. his shirt on your body crinkled everywhere from how he'd been grabbing at it, the long sleeves falling over your palms. it was straight out of a wet dream, which it now was, as you begged him to fuck you, your wet folds slick with spit and arousal as you bared yourself to him, pleading with him to sink into you. 
in memory, he croons. he gives you what you asked for — pressing your weight into the mattress as he pushes into you, feel you pulse around him as he goes in hard and deep, feel your body trembling against his. 
but in dream, he can be honest enough with himself to admit that it scares him when you cry. that his stomach twists when he hears you beg, like missing a step on a staircase, a second where he's rushing into nothing — not knowing if he'd made you like this, not knowing if he was hurting you. from the girl shaking against him, clumsy hands finding purchase on his shoulders, and you now — hips rocking into nothing, desperate for him. 
"i'm here," he whispers, gently taking your hands and slowly lowering your legs down to the bed. he kisses you until your breathing calms and slows, your hands now on the sides of his face, caressing his cheeks. he likes how you touch him as if you could ever bruise him, loving brushes of your fingertips, urgency making your fingers curl into his skin, hesitant scratches on his shoulders that your hands skitter away from. 
in dream, he pushes into you slowly, watching the way your lips part, breath caught in your chest, eyes fluttering closed as you take him in. wet sounds fill the room as he begins to move his hips, your face shyly tucked into his chest, your ankles sweetly hooked against his lower back as you melt together. the feelings in his chest intensifying the pleasure he feels from you wrapped around him. his eyes meet yours as you blink up at him, and it's so real — the way you glow against the sheets of his bed, eyes all soft and sparkling with tenderness. 
but then he wakes in the same bed: the feeling of you under him, the crash of his heartbeat in his chest, all of it hanging in the dark, a lingering tattoo on his body. 
so it's almost like a dream, when he opens the door to the stranger's bedroom, to see you slumped on the floor. 
the din from below echoes through the hall, the sounds of the overwhelming crowd seeping into the room and reminding him of why he was here. he'd been looking for a quiet place to be alone — the constant eyes on him making him feel self-conscious and jumpy. 
back at the apartment, jeno had said he wasn't being like himself, that he hadn't been himself in a long time, the memory of his laugh ringing in haechan's ears as he climbed upstairs. when has a crowd ever bothered you? when have you ever hated attention? 
he didn't know the answers. 
now haechan stands in the doorway, not believing his eyes. there was no way you'd known he would be here, alone. you're curled in on yourself on the floor, leaning against the bed with your knees tucked to your chest, eyes shut. your body is still, and for just a while longer he lets himself watch you for just a moment — drink in every single detail he'd missed even if it felt like teasing open his own wounds with fingers caked in salt. the rise and fall of your chest, your hair mussed up and falling over your face, the slope of your shoulders, your arms. 
and suddenly he's back in his bed, your weight the only thing he was sure of against his chest, drunk on the soft sounds you made, lips barely forming his name. 
you don't know he's here yet. he could walk away, leave you by yourself. but something in him told him he couldn't leave you like this in the middle of a party, barely conscious in a stranger's bedroom. before he knows what he's doing, before he can fathom the consequences, he's kneeling before you, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your body. you reek of alcohol, stirring when you feel the weight of the leather on your body, your tongue numb and heavy in your mouth, eyelashes feeling stuck to your cheeks as you struggle to open your eyes. 
"y/n?" haechan whispers, choking on the sound of your name. 
"haech-" you trail off, fingers coming up to rub your eyes sleepily, the jacket slipping slightly. "haechan." it's the way you say it, like your tongue is too afraid to form the syllables, like something you can't bear to say. 
"i-i'm going to find someone," he mumbles, backing away from you, clumsily trying to get to his feet. "you stay here, i'll –"
"don't go-" the words almost get lost from the way you're slurring, lips barely moving, shaking your head as you reach for him again. your fingers slip on the sleeve of his shirt, before curling and holding on tight. "please don't leave." 
"i…" pain flickers over his features. he bites his lower lip, body moving towards yours instinctively, your hand crawling up his sleeve and grasping for his arm, fingers digging to the bone as you tremble. but then he feels your breath on his neck, and he pulls away again. 
"what happened, y/n? did someone hurt you?" he feels like a hypocrite. 
"no," you say, meekly. "i think i just had too much to drink." 
"did you come with jaemin?" 
you shake your head, nuzzling into him in a way that makes his heart pulse painfully in his chest. "i don't know anyone here." 
he still thinks he should get help from any of the girls downstairs. even as you meld yourself a little closer to him, he's almost certain you wouldn't be acting this way if you were sober. 
"y/n, i can't. please just let me call jaemin–" 
"want you here." you reach for him again, trying to pull him impossibly closer, fitting his body against yours. "don't want jaemin to see me like this." 
it dawns on him that besides jaemin, he was the only one you felt comfortable around like this. it wouldn't be the first time he's taken care of you when you were vulnerable or weak, and his body reacts out of habit — pulling you into his arms, his hands gently patting your back as you blink back tears in the crook of his neck. but it still didn't feel right, knowing he was the one who had caused this, and yet he was here holding you.
"let me talk to someone downstairs – i'll see if they can take you home," he murmurs. you bury your face deeper in his neck, shaking your head. "just 5 minutes, okay? i just need 5 minutes —" 
"don't want someone to bring me home," you rasp, and his gut twists painfully when i feels your tears damp on his skin. "i don't want to go back to my place. i want to go with you." 
"you're going to regret this," he says, softly. to him it's the truth you're not sober enough to see, even if it hurt to tell you. "you don't really want this, y/n." 
"is it because you want to find someone else?" your words are soft-edged, lips forming the words carefully, but it pierces him all the same. "is it- is it because you want to bring someone else home?" 
"no," he answers, quiet. "i haven't…not in a while." 
"so you just don't want to be around me?" 
his mind is racing, desperately trying to think of how he could help you, but his mind was coming up with nothing. that same feeling he always had around you — protectiveness intersecting with the ache in his chest everytime your eyes met his, all of it roaring in his ears, louder than the cacophony from any party. for all the times he's claimed he knew what was good for you, he's begun to realise that he has a terrible grasp on how not to hurt you. 
"you don't want to be around me," he corrects, but his fate is sealed when you let out a small sob, muffled against his shirt. 
and he takes you home. 
you watch him through your lashes, as he swipes a cotton pad on your face, cleaning off your makeup. 
"close your eyes," he mumbles, a slight pout forming on his lips from how hard he was concentrating, trying to be gentle with you. his touches are far too light, and you're sure your makeup is still on your face, but you let your lashes flutter shut anyway, feeling a featherlight brush against your eyelid as he holds it against your eye. dropping the used pad into a small bin, he brings a warm, damp towel up to your face, the material of it soft against your skin. 
"can you brush your teeth?" he holds a toothbrush up to your face, but he withdraws it once your hands come up to hold it, completely misjudging the distance and landing on his shoulders instead. "open," he coaxes, parting his own lips so you'd mimic him. he smiles fondly as you open your mouth wide, a hand coming up to hold your face in place. "good girl," he mumbles, and you preen at the praise that shines through your drunken haze, following his instructions to rinse out your mouth.  
there's a short pause. having brushed out your hair, removed your makeup and brushed your teeth, the only thing to do next was to get you to bed. 
your legs squeeze around his hips, your back against the mirror on his bathroom counter. "haechan," you mumble, tipsiness making you swallow your words. "don't…my clothes…" 
"i'll leave them on," he promises, ignoring the way your tight dress looks uncomfortable and unclean to sleep in. "don't worry." of course you don't feel comfortable around him, not after everything.
but for some reason, you're shaking your head, two clumsy hands closing in on one of his and guiding them to your back. "take them off. please–" you add, when he hesitates. "please help me."
"of course," he murmurs, familiarity sparking in his fingertips as they grasp for the zipper, a sense of dejavu in how he drags it down your spine slowly, your back arching slightly. you look at him, drink in the proximity like the first taste of rain after a heatwave — the pretty cut of his eyes, the way his pupils float upwards as he focuses on your back through the mirror. the round tip of his nose, and finally the plushness of his heart-shaped lips. it feels like reprieve, the ache in you finally soothed by the way his breath fans over your cheeks, a gentle balm on an open wound. you lean forward slightly into him as if drawn by a magnetic field, one of your hands coming up to trace the arches of his cupid's bow. 
"y/n?" you can feel his lips move, soft like rose petals on your fingertips. "what are you doing?" 
"you haven't called me baby all night," you blurt out. "or…or princess." your thumb dips to brush against his lower lip, before he's catching hold of your hand and pulling it away from his face gently. 
"i shouldn't," he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to your fingertips before letting go. "i can't."
your dress has gone loose around your body, and you push the sleeves off your shoulders with your hands, letting the fabric drop to your waist. you observe him, watching the way he swallows, throat bobbing when his eyes dart to your chest, lace draped over your curves. 
"haechan," you murmur, but then he turns, hands now fumbling with a pile of his clean clothes. he holds out a clean shirt to you, bunching it up at the collar to slip your head through it, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. 
"i want that one," you say, softly, pointing to a long sleeved shirt you'd remembered wearing before in the room he'd shared with the boys. something flickers in his eyes, his hands curling into fists before he picks it up. he's putting it over your head, the soft cotton hanging off your shoulders, his hands coming close to your body to guide your arms into the sleeves, until you can't take it anymore. 
"haechan, don't you want me?" 
his lips part, his hands stilling, slowly unfurling his grasp on you and placing his palms on the counter. "y/n…" 
"why aren't you-" you look up at him, biting your lip, your tongue too slow to form the thoughts your mind was racing with. "why haven't you touched me yet? do you not want me like this?" 
his heart splinters and fractures. you were so used to it — used to all his touches leading to kisses, kisses leading to him all over your body. "you're drunk." it's the only thing he can say. 
"i know what i'm doing," you fire back, but your words lilt and smear together. "ask me anything and i can answer you right now." 
but all he does is resume putting your arms through the sleeves, your limbs pliant against him as always, and soon you're completely covered up, and he can breathe a little easier. his strong arms grip your waist, and you're like a ragdoll in his grip as he guides you to stand, the dress at your hips falling, the shirt brushing the top of your thighs. 
it gets worse when he sets you down in his bed. in another universe, this might be a moment of bliss for him, something romantic and sweet in the way your body curves against his pillows, sinking down into them and blinking up at him hazily. but guilt still thunders in his chest, his vision split by lightning bolts of fear. you would wake up hating him. he would never stop hurting you. you would never want to see him again. 
your arms slide up his, grasping for him. "please," you plead, your voice small. "what did i do wrong? why don't you want to touch me?" 
"you didn't do any wrong," he murmurs, as he lets his weight sink into bed next to you, feel you curl up against him. just for a minute he tells himself — just until you fall asleep. your weight on his chest feeling like someone had doused his body with warmth, a comfort that made his eyes prickle with tears. "y/n, you're perfect," he whispers, the words melting into the dark.
"don't say that." he feels tears wet against the soft fabric of his shirt over his chest. "stop saying my name." 
"baby," he amends. "sweetheart, go to sleep." 
you hum. "haechan." 
"don't," he echoes. 
"what's wrong?" you mumble, your question heavy with sleep. 
he grips onto you tighter, holding you fiercely as tears cloud his vision. 
"i'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "i'm so so so sorry." when you don't respond, he nuzzles into your hair, freckling wet kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry," he repeats, long after you've fallen asleep. 
you wake up to the sound of laughter ringing out against the walls. 
the room is as dim as it was last night — dark curtains drawn and the lights turned off. time seemed to have come to a standstill, you couldn't tell if it had been days or weeks or even months since you'd fallen asleep. your body ached, still heavy with sleep while your mind cleared — it had been a while since you've slept this well.
blinking your eyes open, you slowly sit up, feeling sheets warm and soft against your skin. you sit there, dazed, getting your bearings as you survey the unfamiliar room again. your clothes, folded on a small couch next to the window. your jewelry on the bedside table, your phone plugged in to the charger. 
the only thing you recognised was the long sleeved shirt unmistakeable on your body, the familiar smell of perfume and body lotion in every fiber of the sheets.
stumbling over to the bathroom, the warm light brings back every memory — the party, the drinks, stumbling upstairs into a room as your consciousness slipped away, and then haechan, haechan, haechan. haechan leading you out of the party, taking you home in his car, taking care of you. your fingers ghost over your forehead, where you swear he kissed you just before you woke up.
you turn off the tap. in the silence, there's another round of giggles, bright like a child's, and then —
"baby, don't move!" 
haechan's voice rings lighter than you've ever heard it, and the smile in it is evident. this is a voice without shadows, fondness in every lilt and inflection. with something like urgency, you dry your hands on your shirt, padding out of his room, hesitantly blinking into the sunlit living room. 
you almost don't believe your eyes. 
haechan is sitting on the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pink lips stuck out in a pout. sitting on the floor, cross-legged between his knees, was a little girl — her hands busy with a doll, while her own hair was being meticulously braided and arranged by the boy…whose head snaps up the moment he hears the creak of the door. 
"you're awake," he blurts out, and the girl looks up. 
"hi!" she waves shyly, leaning forward towards you, but whining as the motion tugs on her hair instead. "hyuck! it hurts…" 
his eyes finally dart away from yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs, lightly massaging her scalp with the tips of his fingers. 
"you're making it messy —" 
"right, sorry." he grabs a sparkly pink hairbrush and combs through her hair gently, beginning to rebraid. the girl goes back to her doll, settling back down and quickly losing interest in you. 
his eyes flick up to yours again, the tiniest hint of blush on his cheeks. "did you sleep well?"
you nod, feeling like you'd walked in on something you weren't supposed to. 
haechan studies your face, a strand of hair falling from his grasp before he tucks it in diligently. "are you hungover? there were painkillers on the bedside table, i don't know if you saw…" 
"i'm fine," you croak out. 
"and there's breakfast on the table," he murmurs, ducking his head back down to focus on the impressive french braid he was attempting. he looks back up when he feels you staring, as if fixed to the ground beneath your feet. 
"is she…?" 
"this is my baby sister," he answers, smiling softly. "sorry, i didn't know she was coming over today. her kindergarten is near here so sometimes i walk her to school." and then, with a nod towards the table, "please eat — i made too many sandwiches." 
the girl smiles, mumbling softly to herself. "hyuckie makes the best sandwiches." 
you can see 'hyuckie' blush at that, his lips pressed together tightly to keep in his smile as he pokes the little girl's cheek softly, going back to the braid. you cross over to the dining table, feet shuffling slowly, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the two siblings, watching the fondness in haechan's eyes. quietly pulling out a chair, you sit down and pick up a sandwich, holding it gingerly between your fingers. 
a hushed voice breaks the silence, and you turn to see his sister, cupping her lips against haechan's ear whispering so loud that her words fill the room. "is she your friend?" the girl asks, pointing her pinky finger at you, head tilted with curiosity. haechan's head tilts too, but his eyes wander over to yours as he hesitates. 
"yes, she's my friend," he says, slowly. "we're…good friends." sliding the hair ties from his wrist, he finally finishes tying off the braid, before giving the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder. "you can play for 5 more minutes okay? hyuckie needs to talk to his friend." 
her round eyes blink at you as she slowly gets to her feet, before tottering over to the window, where another pile of dolls lay. haechan clears his throat, before shuffling over to you and sitting down in a chair next to yours. 
although he adjusts himself to face you, he keeps his distance – legs drawn in under the chair, hands placed carefully on his knees in a way you'd never seen him do before. it feels like the space between the both of you spans for entire oceans and continents, an invisible force field that holds weight against your limbs, keeping you from leaning in, incapable of even moving your fingertips. 
"are you sure you're okay?" 
he looks at you — his expression soft like wax melting around a candle wick. 
"do you…do you remember how you got here?" 
you nod, taking a deep breath. "the party?" 
"i'm sorry that you're here like this," he says, quietly. "i didn't know you were going to be there, i wasn't trying to corner you, i swear." 
you nod, dazed. 
"are you upset with me? for bringing you here?" at the conflict in your expression, he adds on, hurriedly, "i-i know it wasn't the best thing to do. i could've called jaemin, or mark, or anyone downstairs…it's just that i didn't know…i didn't know if it would be okay–" 
" — i'm not upset," you cut him off, the pressure easing as you raise a hand jerkily to place it over his. "i believe you. thank you for taking care of me last night."
he exhales slowly, and when he speaks he sounds even more troubled than before. "you…you shouldn't thank me. you shouldn't thank me for anything."
his eyes dart over to his little sister, checking in on her, and the sense that you're intruding on something creeps up on you again. 
haechan had been right — there was so much of him you didn't know. you hardly recognised the boy sitting beside you, despite a vague sense of comfort and familiarity in the slightest traces of his expression, the look in his eyes, his thumb absentmindedly stroking yours. it scared you. 
you withdraw your hand, pushing your chair a little further from his, the scrape of it dissonant in your ears. "so, uh, i'll just wait downstairs for the taxi if you don't feel comfortable —" 
"taxi?" he looks at you, confused. 
"i…i should go now, right?" 
"i wasn't going to ask you to go," he says, his voice small. "i was…i was hoping we could talk." 
"talk?" you echo. after weeks of nothing? "now?"
"i mean, not right now-" he glances over at the clock, wincing. "but can you stay today?" 
there's a pause. you don't think you've ever been able to read him — you've spent days second-guessing every emotion you thought he had, the meaning behind each expression, whether he ever told the truth. but something about him like this makes you hesitate, made your breath catch in your throat. all the ways you've tried to learn how to be immune to his words and his touch slowly melting away, because that was your defense against the version of haechan you thought you knew before. 
"i'll understand if you say no," he says, quietly. "but i have things i need to say to you. please." 
you don't know what to do. 
"hyuckie?" 
you both turn. haechan's baby sister is waddling over, her fist clenched around her hair ties as the last remnants of the french braid unravel from her head. she sniffles. "it fell." 
haechan's eyes dart back to you quickly, before refocusing his attention away. "it's okay-" he soothes, taking the hair ties from her as he swipes the pad of his thumb on her cheek, brushing off the teardrops that have begun to spill from her lashes. his lips jut out into a pout, his head tilting to meet her gaze. "let's just tie it up and go to school, hm?"
"but i want it in a braid…"  
"i can't finish it in time," he says, gently, touching the strands of her hair. "i'm sorry. i promise, we'll do it next time, okay?" 
her lip wobbles. "but…"
"let me help," you say, suddenly. 
he turns, round eyes wide. "what?" 
"i'll do her hair. you still need to get her things right?" 
he nods, a little dazed. "really?" 
"i'll stay," you murmur, and you slip the hair ties from his loose fingers and sling them around your wrist. "i need to talk to you too." 
you can feel his eyes on you as he coaxes his sister towards you, the girl shyly hiding her face in your hands as you swiftly braid two pigtails down her back. he still watches you out of the corner of his eye as he packs her bag, noting the way you listen to her babble on about her days at the school, the way you help adjust the straps of her backpack onto her tiny frame.
he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you think you know the feeling. 
— 
the bed dips under his weight as he sits down. 
"hey," you hear him murmur, and you stir. his hair falls over his face, and he's changed out of his clothes, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perches on his dainty nose. it's foreign, and new…until he pushes back his hair boyishly with an open palm, flicking his head like a puppy after a swim, and the skip in your heartbeat feels all too familiar in your ribcage. 
"did you get her to school?" 
he nods. "i got us lunch too. and stopped to get groceries." studying your face, he leans in. "i didn't want to wake you up so soon. do you feel better?" 
you hum. the morning now seemed like just a dream — haechan and his sister, the breakfast sandwiches. he'd left to walk her to school, telling you to rest in his bed until he got home. now, late afternoon light seeps into the room through the open door, until haechan gets up to close it, once again sealing the room in cozy darkness. 
"may i…?" he lifts up the corner of the covers, and you nod, easing yourself to the side as he gets into bed, leaning up against the headboard, his eyes trained on his lap. you lay on your side, that same feeling — as if you couldn't reach out and touch him, as if he existed in a world of his own without you, slowly settling in your body like a familiar ache. 
but then there's a shift — and you can feel his gaze warm on your skin. you blink up at him, his pupils focused on yours, pools of the darkest molten brown sucking you into his world. he wets his lips with his tongue nervously, taking a shuddering breath. 
"y/n, i'm really sorry." 
your heart squeezes a little in your chest. "for?" 
"for what i said that night…when i thought…when you didn't show up." he takes another breath. "and for not trusting you, for going to your place after i...." his fists clench the fabrics of the sheets, twisting it in his hands. 
you bite your lip. "haechan —"
" — i'm not done." he swallows, voice dipping low. "you were right. i knew you wanted more, i always knew exactly when i hurt you. but i never tried…i never tried to change anything. i'm sorry." his hands reach towards yours for a second, but he hesitates, dropping them back on his lap. 
"what would you have changed?" you ask, softly.
"i could have stopped seeing you," he murmurs. 
you smile, sadly. "i'm not convinced that would have hurt any less." that was something you knew for sure. 
"and i don't think i could have stopped myself," he admits. 
"haechan," his eyes move to yours. "why did you invite me?" his breathing picks up, and you want desperately to comfort him, to curl up on his lap and soothe him, but you knew the both of you were afraid of what would happen if you touched. knew the possibility that you'd try to find answers in skin-on-skin, lips-on-lips, and the possibility that it would all be lost in translation again.  
"i'm sorry, –" he looks at you sadly. "i think i was just trying to get you to stay. i…" he chews on his lip, glasses sliding a little lower on his slender nose bridge as his head dips. "i regret what i said, but some of it was true. i don't know what i would have done, and i don't think i was ready for…for what you thought it was." 
you nod, cheek rubbing against soft sheets, thinking about what he said. "haechan, i don't regret not going. i only wished i'd done it intentionally." 
"yeah?" he whispers. the sound sticks in his throat. 
"if you hadn't found me yesterday…would you still have looked for me? talked to me? i'm not hurt that you didn't find me sooner-" you cut in, when you see the guilt on his features, the parting of his lips in apology. "time apart….time apart was good. i needed it to clear my head. i….i couldn't stop myself around you." 
he doesn't say anything, for a while. "jaemin came over," he says, slowly. "and he said i couldn't talk to you or he would stop working with the band and it was decided for me." 
"he what?" 
haechan shakes his head. "i don't blame him. i'm not going to pretend that i couldn't have still talked to you if i really wanted to. i'm selfish enough to do that, i'll admit. i didn't reach out because i didn't know what to say, and i didn't know what i wanted." 
"and now?" 
he closes his eyes. "time apart was good," he murmurs, echoing your words. "it gave me a chance to go back to a time before." 
your breath catches. 
" — but i couldn't. i don't think i can take it any longer. i missed you, y/n. i miss you now, even as you're here." 
"you miss me?" 
something bothered you about it, hearing him say those words. when he'd pulled you away repeatedly in the weeks you've known each other, when he came for you time and time again, was that missing you too? were things different now? 
"i miss spending time with you," he says, almost timidly. "not just…not just sex. everything. i know it's selfish…" his eyes blink open, and he pushed his glasses up, avoiding your gaze. "i didn't mean to pressure you to come back. you can forget i said that." 
he shakes his head, trying to clear it. 
"i just wanted to tell you i'm sorry for hurting you." 
you'd never dared hope for a real apology from him. some part of you expected, or even secretly wished, he would find you again after that night, lie through his teeth to win you back. and in the weeks that followed, you took his silence to mean he didn't even care enough to do that.
and now here you were, sitting with him. after days and nights, he's had time to really mean his words — he wasn't himself, which is maybe why you believed he was telling the truth.
you think you know now, why he refused to let you in. why he hadn't wanted to take your first time, something so intimate and romantic that it would have pierced right through the layers he'd built up around himself. why he drew away so many nights when your touch lingered on each others' skin, when you wanted him to stay. 
"haechan," you say, quietly. "i need you to understand that i…that i've learned how to be hurt by you. i don't want to go back to how we were before." 
he nods, quickly. "of course." 
"and…you say you knew i wanted more. so you know that i wanted to be with you…romantically, right?" 
"i know." the words are so quiet, you barely catch them. 
"if…if i come back, i don't think i want that anymore." you say, gentle, but firm. jaemin was right — you couldn't let yourself forget all the ways he hurt you. "i associate us with too much hurt. i can't trust you with my heart, can you understand that?" 
there's silence. he's nodding, but when his lips part, he's wordless. 
"haechan?" 
"i understand," he murmurs. "i'm…i didn't…" he breaks off, fiddling with the covers, lip caught in his teeth. "whatever happens next will only happen on your terms," he says, softly. "i only want to do what you want to do, okay?" 
your brow furrows. "but haechan, if you don't feel comfortable with something –" 
"i'm fine as long as you still want to see me," he whispers. 
"if you don't want to let me in, i won't push anymore." you realize you truly mean it when you make the offer out loud. even if it hurt to know that you may never see him like this again, you press on, jaemin's advice resurfacing in your mind again. "you don't owe me any more of yourself. if you want it to just be sex, we can do that – but you have to commit to it too. so no more getting jealous, or —"  
" – that's not possible." 
"you're not making any sense." you should've been hurt, but sitting here now — looking at him, the way he melts into his room, fuzzy at the edges, soft curves of his face, you can't feel any of it. finally, you're beginning to see that he's just as lost as you are. his head is still bowed low, taking in every word you say like a weight he carries upon him. 
"it's not possible because you already know me. you know enough of me that i couldn't perform with you in the crowd, can't be myself around you at a party. i can't stand there onstage, do things like eyefuck girls and play the guitar and pretend to be someone else, while feeling your eyes on me. you'd see right through me."
he sounds like he's on the verge of tears, his voice achy and raw. and as you look up at him, tears are smudging on his waterline, his cheeks glistening as he sniffles. 
"i said i'd be fine with anything," he breathes shakily, as he starts to cry, sharp inhales punctuating his words. "and i am, i really am. i-i'm not in the position to set terms. it's fine if you don't want to know me, but i can't pretend we're just strangers anymore. i won't be able to." 
words you'd said to him — you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. 
for a moment, you entertain the idea that you've hurt him too. 
"i don't think i can pretend either," you murmur. "i hated it when you pretended like you didn't know me. like you'd never seen me before." 
i'm s-sorry, he chokes, but the syllables scattered across his sobs. he claps a hand to his mouth as his breathing speeds up even more, tears wetting his shirt, achy sounds muffled against his palm. and finally you sit up, limbs still clumsy and heavy from sleep, and you wrap your arms around him, and arm slung over his chest, another around his waist, just like you wanted to all this time.
his breath shudders against your palms, warm body against your skin. you bury your face in his neck, breathe in the familiar smell of him that changed no matter who he was or whoever he was pretending to be, until his breathing slows and his sobs come to a shaky stop. 
"i missed you too, haechan," you breathe. he shakes his head. "i did-" you insist, but he shakes his head again, a hand coming to touch your arm on his waist, squeezing tight. 
"not haechan, donghyuck," he whispers. 
"donghyuck," you correct, stroking the side of his cheek lovingly, your fingertip stained with his tears. "i missed you." 
"i missed you too." he says it like the words are dangerous, hushed and quiet. "are you…are you really coming back to me?"
"do you think we can be friends?" you ask, tentatively. not lovers, not strangers. this was the only in-between you knew that could do justice to the ways you knew each other, the only way you could see yourself holding on to him now.
he looks at you for a long time, until you forget your question. his nose is tinted pink, his eyes still watery as he drowns in his thoughts. 
he swallows. "are you sure?" he asks, softly. "your first time being with someone…and it's not even a real relationship." 
"you're doing that thing again," you murmur. "where you tell me what's good for me. how i should do things." you soften when you look up, seeing the guilt in his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. "i'm asking you again," you say, slowly. "do you think we can be friends?" 
this time, he nods. "yeah," he murmurs. "friends who…"
you nod too, feeling your cheeks burn, and then you lean in — slotting your lips against his. 
for a second, he doesn't kiss you back, and your stomach swoops. 
but then his mouth is moving against yours, soft and gentle. a close-lipped kiss, just the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses together, your eyes slowly fluttering shut to focus on the feeling. and even though you'd just agreed — even though you were the one who suggested it, a part of you wondered if you could ever only want to be friends with lee donghyuck.  
you sit at the dinner table, and haechan's entire body aches with a longing that crests over him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs. 
he recalls the way he'd felt earlier, walking back across the park from the kindergarten, stopping by the grocery store and wandering the brightly-lit aisles, turning over pasta sauce and soup stock in his hands. the knowledge that you were in his home, sleeping, that he would turn the key in the lock and you would be waiting for him — burned down his throat like alcohol, a bonfire in his stomach. it felt like playing pretend. he was afraid to even drive you back to your apartment, to walk you to your door, to look at you too long in the moments after. and yet here he was, tipsy off the sweetness of being able to come home to you. 
after the talk, neither of you had gone much further than kissing. 
"i missed you so much," he murmurs – his voice crumpling under the weight of his own words. 
"do you want to show me?" your tone is lightly teasing, dipping low as you keep your smile on your face. the warmth coursing through your body has nothing to do with the blankets pooling around your thighs, and everything to do with the boy sitting across from you — doll-like legs with miles of silky skin splayed out over the sheets, back slouching against the headboard, all crumpled in and soft and worn. 
if you had gone to the bar weeks ago, let him guide you to this home, to this bed, you might already be familiar with this soft mattress in a whole different way.  
neither of you can deny the way your minds wander there still, despite everything. him missing your body framed against his, you craving the sink of his chest, the curve of his waist.  
there's silence, as his words register in the boy's head, pain flickering over his features. if he was feeling more like himself, he would pulled you in, caged you under him. tugged at that side of you that was always so pliant and easy for him and watched you unravel under his fingertips. the words are on the tip of his tongue — i'll show you. did you miss me too? kiss me. stay with me.
instead, his fingers withdraw, and gently touch the soft cotton of his shirt's hem, warm light flickering in his eyes. "not like this," he murmurs quietly. "not…not now."
you let out a breath, tension dissipating. "yeah," you'd murmured. "you're right." 
you'd gone to take a shower while he prepared dinner. there was something terribly domestic about all of it — you padding into the living room again, each fiber of your being smelling so much like him. the way he turned from where he stood guarding the soup bubbling on the stove to see you in one of his shirts, a towel draped over your shoulders. the feelings he hadn't learned to pin down, hadn't had the time to sort, intensified in his chest, an ache lodged inside him. 
friends. he'd introduced you to his sister as his friend, watched you braid her hair and laugh with her softly, heard your sweet voice wishing her good luck with school. the nights he'd spent with you by his side — talking about the band, about his tattoos. asking about how he did during the show, seeking your praise, wanting to know so badly how he appeared in your eyes. the way you somehow reached right through him and made him listen, made him stop. was that friendship? 
now with all the plates cleared and washed, the sounds of your clothes tumbling in his washing machine in the background, the smell of black nail polish prickled his nose as you leaned over. your fingers brushing his, holding them in place. 
"should i make it a little messy?" your voice is light. 
"it's usually messy because i get my sister to do it," he tells you, softly. "you don't have to mimic how it looks." 
you nod, a small smile on your face as you dip the brush back in the bottle. there's silence, for a while, as he watches you, studying the way you look with your head bowed, feeling each careful touch of your fingers, and then — 
"do you want to talk about rules now?" 
you look up at him just briefly before going back to the task. he swallows. 
"sure." 
another pause. and then quietly, "you can't get jealous anymore, you know that right?" 
"i know," he murmurs. "you told me to stop before…but i didn't. i'm sorry." 
you nod. "you can't be possessive of me, either." 
he hesitates. "so…no marking?" 
slowly, you let go of his left hand. "you can still leave hickeys and bruises," you mumble. "just don't…don't call me yours you know?" 
he didn't know if he could do that. "okay," he says, softly. "i'll try." and then, slowly and carefully, he asks, "are you going to keep coming to our shows?" 
the slide drag of the brush on his nail stops. "do you want me to?" 
he bites his lip. "i want you there," he says, slowly. "but i don't know if i'll be okay with having you in the crowd." 
"oh." 
"maybe you can watch from backstage. or the wings. i want you to," he adds, when you look troubled. "please." 
"are we still a secret?" 
his lips part. he wanted to say yes — but it was the way you'd asked it, like it was something you feared, that made him hesitate.
"because," you continue. "it didn't feel good, keeping it from jaemin. and as i said, i hated it when you pretended we were strangers." 
he felt your hands leave his, capping the bottle of nail polish as you leaned back in your chair, tucking your knees to your chest. he keeps his hands splayed on the table, taking a deep breath.
"no more secrets," he agrees. "and stop going to those parties, y/n. if you want to see me, just tell me." 
you raise your eyebrows. "we're not exclusive," you point out, slowly. "i don't go to the parties just for you. haechan, if you don't think you can do this…" 
"i can," he says, hurriedly. "i'm sorry. if i see you at a party…i'll say you're my friend. i'm sorry, it's just that i…i'm just…."
"it's okay." giving him a small smile, you get to your feet, shuffling over to the kitchen. you don't hear him come closer as you fill up a glass of water on the kitchen, only know of his presence as his hand touches your shoulder carefully. 
"don't go," he murmurs. his arms slide around your body, gently pulling you towards him, and you turn slightly so you can see his face.
"i'm still here," you respond, softly. 
but he shakes his head. "don't go." 
you turn around in his arms and your lips brush, his own parting against yours, seeking permission. all the time he wonders when he'll stop kissing you like he's swearing an oath — devoted in the way he wraps his lips around yours, patient and true in the way his tongue moves against yours, and even now, something loving in the way he murmurs your name into the cavern of your mouth. his hands move carefully on your skin, nail polish still drying on his fingertips, and if either of you question the way you kiss, you keep it to yourselves. 
it's different, watching haechan perform, when he's not performing for you. 
you saw the way his eyes flitted through the crowd, making and breaking eye contact so fast it was hard to keep track of, each twitch of his expression rehearsed and calculated. a teasing part of his lips, sinful face fluttery and slack as the music crashed all around him, like he could physically feel it. he was right — you didn't see him the same. you knew it was the performance, that he was really the one trying to please the crowd, riding off the pleasure of attention. but despite seeing through it as he had said, it still had you feeling tightly wound inside, pressure building up inside you, a craving for his touch intensifying with each time his hips shifted against his guitar. 
and even worse was the way your heartbeat would trip over itself every time haechan's eyes flickered over to you. never during a song, but in the moments between — mark's voice speaking through the mic, the rest of the boys checking on their instruments or interacting with the crowd. he would look over at you briefly, almost shyly, his heart-shaped lips creasing into a smile. 
"friends?" 
the moment you'd arrived home, you had pleaded with jaemin not to be upset with haechan, but it turned out you didn't need to. haechan had left a message the night of the party, and when you'd walked in looking more well rested and collected than you'd had in days, jaemin knew that you had been safe. you'd reassured him too, when he asked if keeping you from him only made things worse. both of you had needed that time to come to this conclusion. only time would tell if it was the right one. 
"so you're going to be friends with benefits?" jaemin raised his eyebrows. "was this his idea or yours?" 
"mine," you mumble. feeling the need to defend yourself, you raise your voice just slightly. "i just think that…i want to keep seeing him, and i want to get to know him…but i don't want him in that way. anymore," you add, when jaemin bites his lip.
"did you really lose feelings, or are you just not ready?" he asks, quietly. 
you force a laugh out of your chest. "you think i'd still have feelings for someone who hurt me that much?" you try to say it sarcastically, but you don't have the heart to. the words have no bite, and instead truth echoes in the spaces between.
"that's not the worst thing in the world, y/n." his voice is steady, and calm. "it's okay to take your time. if you remember that lying to yourself will only hurt more." 
but there are things to soothe the ache. 
"did you like the show?" 
haechan roughly tugs off his jacket, letting it slump off his shoulders and onto the floor. the moment the last song ended he'd rushed off stage and right to you, eyes blazing under his heavy makeup, the both of you stumbling into one of the small storerooms backstage. 
a single small lightbulb barely illuminates the small space, bathing you in warm light and shadow. shelves of boxes line most of the walls, except for a sliver of space that currently presses against your back, your fingers touching the cold surface. 
"it was good," you murmur. 
"yeah?" 
he's still hungry for more. you can see it in his eyes — for all his good girls and you're perfect, you knew he craved to be adored too. 
"you were right," you say, softly. "it feels different, watching as your friend." 
his smile falters.
"i…i like it more," you continue. "being in the wings…makes me want to get your attention." 
"you have my attention now, princess," he points out. he touches a hand to your waist. 
it's almost scary, how you slip back into old patterns. a heady rush filling your senses, slowly dragging you under. this is why i couldn't stop, you think, as he leans in ever closer, his eyes glazed over as his gaze slides to your lips. 
there's a beat. 
"i forgot to ask," he mumbles. "no possessiveness right?" 
your mind clears, just a bit. you nod, breathlessly. 
"what else?" he asks. looking at you, timidly, he asks. "can i…are pet names okay? can i still call you baby?" 
"baby's fine," you whisper. 
"princess?" 
"hmm?"
"no," he smiles fondly at you. "i was asking if calling you princess was okay." 
you want to bury your face in your hands. or his chest. "princess is fine." 
his smile grows wider, before he suddenly turns serious again. "are we starting anew?" he asks, hesitantly. "can i…can i bring up things from before? or are we pretending that this is our first time…" 
"no more pretending," you murmur, feeling like a hypocrite. "why? did you want to bring up something?"
"kind of," he nods towards the door. "just thought you're going to love this," he says, slyly. "hearing stage crew and bandmates walking by, knowing that at any point someone could hear us, someone could come in…"
and now you do bury your face in your hands, and when he reaches around to hug you, you lean against his chest, feeling his laugh vibrate against you, feeling you with warmth. 
"it's okay," he murmurs, as his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. "i won't play with them this time, baby. today's all about you, hm?" 
his hands falter, perhaps realizing the words were too tender, a little too loving for what you both claimed this would be. 
"lets try not to do anything…romantic?" you mumble. 
you regret the words as soon as you say them, your teeth biting into your lip sharply. 
haechan's face has shuttered down. you can't read his expression, as he nods, taking your hands in his and kissing them. 
"please." you look at him, this time taking the dive, feeling yourself free-falling towards that familiar desire, letting the current swallow you whole. "i need you." 
in spite of everything, haechan's lips are as gentle as they've always been. 
his lips brush yours, once, twice, before he locks in his kiss, hands trembling slightly as he touches the side of your face, cups you in his palms. you want to ask him what's wrong, pulling away slightly, but he makes a wounded sound from the back of his throat, pressing you against the wall, his head dipping to kiss you fiercely. his tongue slides against yours, and he groans low against your lips. 
your hands fumble on his shirt, skimming his broad shoulders, strong arms. he pants into your mouth when your drag your nails down his chest, breaking away. tugging his shirt roughly over his head, he grabs your hands and places them on his chest before leaning in to kiss you again, this time working his way down your neck, his wet kisses making your body shudder as you cling onto him for support. 
"please," you murmur, wondering why he was staying so silent. "please-" 
but he shakes his head, fingers tracing your jaw, tilting your head up so he lap his tongue over a newly formed bruise. the room is silent save for the sound of his lips, but you crave his voice, his words guiding you through everything, the lilting cadence of it. 
"haechan-" a foreign feeling spikes in your stomach as he ignores you, continuing to kiss his way down to your collarbones, fingers tugging your collar wide open. it felt like he wasn't there at all. 
he breathes heavy against your skin as he curls his hands around your hips, holding on tight. still he doesn't say a word, or even make a sound, as his caress the back of your thighs.
"stop-" you blurt out. roughly, you take his hands in yours, gripping them by the wrists. 
he lifts his head. 
"haechan," you start, but he just looks at you. your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. 
"haechan, you're scaring me." your voice is panicked and tight, the tension so overwhelming that tears begin to blur your vision, your chest rising and falling faster. 
"baby?" he asks, alarmed. "what's wrong?" 
"please talk to me," you beg, wiping away the tears on your cheek. the ache has soothed slightly at his voice, but you need more. "why…why aren't you talking? you always…you always used to-" 
"i'm sorry," he whispers, pulling your body into his, wrapping his bare arms around you. "i'm here," he soothes, in your ear. "i'm here," he mumbles again, and again, until your breathing calms down. 
"i'm sorry," he repeats, kissing you softly. "i'm here now, baby, okay?" 
you nod, and now you guide his hands to your thighs, feel the way his breathing hitches.
"can i…?" 
"please," you say, breathlessly, and his hand cups your warm core. 
"fuck," he blurts out. you were so warm, the seat of your panties completely soaked through. he slides them to the side with nimble fingers, inhaling sharply as he strokes your folds. 
"how are you so wet? fuck-" 
"take them off," you plead, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin. immediately, he tugs your panties and skirt down roughly, almost frustrated, barely waiting for you to step out of them before encouraging you to spread your legs wider as he strokes you, fingers dipping to catch at your entrance, your swollen clit. 
"so fucking wet," he marvels, groaning slightly as he swipes his fingers softly . 
"from watching you perform," you say, softly. 
the words send pleasure thrumming low in his navel. "yeah?" he murmurs, eyes meeting yours. 
slowly, he drops to his knees, and suddenly you feel hypersensitive — his breath on your thighs, hands gripping you tightly. he suckles a kiss close to your core, and you whine, loudly, the sound too loud in the small space. 
he looks up at you, sultry eyes framed in dark eyeliner. "let me hear you, baby," he coaxes, easing your legs open. he sticks out the tip of his tongue, and gives your clit a gentle flick, your hips bucking into his face before you can stop yourself. "i've been dreaming about this," he sighs, before he closes in and suckles on your clit. 
he lapped at you like all he'd done in your days apart was think about how best to do it — alternating between suckling on your clit, licking your folds with his tongue wide and flat, and prodding at your entrance. one hand keeping you pressed against the wall, his other slips around your entrance, sliding in one long finger, the way your walls suck him in making him moan, vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. you can feel the jut of his finger joints, the pad of his finger curling against your walls, while his tongue focuses on your clit, drawing shapes and letters expertly. 
you slump further against the wall, the pleasure making your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up, your hands tangled in his hair, knotting them around your fingers. 
"i can't stand-" you're cut off by a moan, as he bites into your thigh, licking up the wetness that stains them, a mix of your arousal and his saliva. "please," you wish you were on a bed, wish both of you had had more patience to go somewhere and do this right, feel the whole weight of his body on yours. 
"cum," he pants, sucking on your clit with his plush lips as he coaxes another finger into your warm, now mimicking a vibrating motion with his hand as he pushes in hard and fast. he doesn't break away even as he moans out, now curling his fingers languidly against your walls. "fuck, baby, i need you to cum now because i can't wait any longer-" 
his tongue presses onto your clit, and the pressure pushes you overboard. his hand the only thing keeping you upright, pushing roughly into you, he eats you out until your orgasm is over, kitten licking your clit as his head moves this way and that. you open your eyes and see him staring right at you, desire pulsing in his pupils, eyes blown out and dark. 
"good?" he breathes, both hands now gripping you tight. you nod, swallowing and gasping. his face is smeared with you, mouth and nose shining and glossy. he licks around his lips, mouth hanging open as his eyes glint. 
"more?" he asks, and you nod, gasping, falling to your knees. now, you're finally able to touch him, as your body crashes into his, causing him to nearly tip over from how he kneels, sitting back on his ankles to draw you into him. you kiss him deeply, letting his lips wrap around your tongue just the way you loved it, feel his hum vibrate against your own chest. 
his hands ghost under your shirt, and you help him pull it off, his hands cupping your breasts with his familiar touch, sucking kisses down your cleavage as you gasp for air. his hands roam your body indulgently, as if he was afraid you'd dissolve if he wasn't mapping your skin with his palms, his tongue, his lips. one hand trailing up and down your back, unclasping your bra, while the other squeezes the back of your thighs, resting his hand on your ass. 
he suckles on your nipples like he had all the time in the world, as if you weren't in a cramped store room feeling as if you were about to explode from his touch alone. gentle tongue drawing circles around the bud, eyes staring up at yours with devotion. your hips move against his, and his eyes flutter shut as he sighs, his hips starting to grind up against you as well. 
"turn around," he mumbles. "now, princess." 
"i want to see you," you protest, hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly walks forward on his knees, pushing you towards the wall. 
"i'm sorry, baby-" he kisses you, placatory and sweet. "we'll go again in my bedroom later, okay? need you like this now."
you let him maneuver you until you're facing the wall, legs spread apart as he kneels in between. trying to soothe you, he rubs a hand over your stomach, reminding you of his presence the entire time he rids himself of his jeans and underwear, rolling on a condom, tension building with every small sound, until you can feel something thick and heavy press between your legs. 
"haechan-" you pant, your back arching just slightly as you lean towards the wall for support, feeling his hand squeeze your hip. 
"i know," he mumbles, making slight shushing sounds as he eases himself against you. "i know, baby." 
even though he was behind you, you knew the face he would make as you felt his tip slowly push past your entrance, the way his eyebrows would float upwards as his eyes went unfocused, lips parting in a lovely 'ah- ah' that he tried hard to contain behind hisses and bitten lips. part of you still wants to see it, but all thoughts are lost as he fully sheaths himself into you, feeling him deep inside from the position. his hand on your hip creeps over to your navel, and he pushes gently over where he was buried inside you, the pressure somehow intensifying as you feel full from all sides. 
slowly, his body presses you further into the wall, and you gasp as the cool surface brushes your chest. he kisses the nape of your neck, and your body trembles, shifting against him and whining as you clench around him from sensitivity. behind you, haechan mumbles out a string of curses, hips jolting forward unsteadily before he stops himself. 
"please move," you whisper, and he moans, finally thrusting into you. he finds a rhythm that's slow and deep, feeling full and stretched out each time you throb around him. a particularly harsh thrust has you whining, your hips tilting towards the wall, trying to get away, but suddenly the solid weight of his body presses against you ever harsher as he rolls his hips, his chest pressed to your back. he feels stronger, and sturdier than he ever did before, as a hand creeps down to your clit and begins to rub slow and lazy circles, his body attuned to yours. you jolt away from the simulation, ass suddenly jolting back against his length, making you cry out again, sandwiched between pleasure. 
"don't run from it," he coaxes. "just take it, hm?" 
you had nowhere to go as he fucks himself into you, wet sounds filling the small space, and you're sure the floor is wet with your arousal, can feel your next climax approaching fast, making you forget about the ache in your knees and in the way your head pressed against the hard wall. you begin to shake in his hold, trying to fuck yourself back on his cock while he bullies your clit relentlessly, but once again his chest presses into you, strong arms holding you firmly in place as he overflows your body with pleasure, a hand slowly grasping yours and squeezing.
"i missed you, baby," he says, quietly, voice surprisingly steady despite the way he was ramming into you. "i really missed you." his lips brush the shell of your ear. 
you cum unexpectedly, crying out, squeezing tight around him as all the muscles in your body tense. your hand squeezes tight around his as the other rubs quick circles on your clit, working you through your orgasm. you can feel him still behind you as he cums too, whining in a pitch and tone you'd never heard from him before, desperate and achy as you clench around him again from the sound, so sensual that it rekindles a fire inside you despite the soreness in all your limbs. 
your weak hands fumble against him, scrabbling against his strong grip. he pulls out with a hiss, helping you turn around to face him. in the semi-darkness, you can see the concern pooling in his eyes, bright and scared. 
"was it too rough?" he asks, breathlessly. his hands skim your frame, pulling you onto his lap. 
you shake your head, nuzzling into him. you're torn between watching that silvery glow in his eyes, makeup smudged around all his corners, and burying yourself deep inside his chest until you can feel his heartbeat on your cheek. 
"baby? are you alright?" he rubs gentle circles on your back, as you nod. "use your words, please," he says, softly. 
"you got stronger," you blurt out. 
"did i hurt you?" he moves against you, something protective in the way he holds you that makes your body sing with warmth. 
"no," you say shyly. "i loved it." 
you lift your head just quick enough to catch the way his face crumples. before you can ask, he leans in and he's kissing you again — soft, gentle, sweet and almost shy. when you part, he looks dazed, eyes drifting down to your lips and wandering back up to your eyes. 
"you deserve better," he says, quietly. 
he looks down, at the way you're sitting in his lap, and then tilts his head sharply to look around the store room, as if he meant you deserved better than this for your first time back with him. as if this was about sex at all. 
you take a deep breath, and shake your head. "haechan, you're exactly what i deserve." 
the name rings out in the space. it seems to ground him, and he shakes his head to clear it, slowly untangling himself from you as he gets ready to help you up. 
you swallow. "take me home," you tell him. "take care of me." 
he does exactly as you say. 
attention simmers on your skin, a palpable heat you're unable to shake. 
girls circle the kitchen island like sharks, eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights, but they're never able to come close as it's so clear haechan's focus is entirely on you. haechan's back is turned to the party as he sits on the counter, long legs spilling over and the muscles in his thick thighs accentuated by the way he sits, denim stretched tight and each gaping hole making you doubt your decision to come to the party here, instead of going over to his home. 
it was his party, and he should go. the fans would be upset if he didn't at least show. now you were seriously regretting it, as you ducked your head to avoid the glare of another crowd as they passed by, while haechan knocked back another drink. 
he had been alight with energy ever since the show ended — agreeing amiably when you suggested going to the party, his smile only wavering when you reminded him he couldn't get jealous. and while your eyes wandered around the party, drinking in the scenes you hadn't seen in awhile, he was doing everything in his power to keep your attention on him, camera strap hanging from his neck as he clicked through the photos, pointing out the parts where jaemin had helped him, explaining the stories behind the pictures. 
"i didn't know you were into photography." it's a stupid statement, that you want to retract immediately. of course you didn't – you didn't know much about him at all. but it makes him smile a little proudly, clicking on the dial to speed through the photos. 
"yeah well, i've never taken a photo of you." he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. "i know for sure because when we…you know…when we weren't seeing each other, and i missed you…" his cheeks are burning up, his mouth barely moving as he tries to fumble through the rest of the sentence, plush lips swallowing his words. "i couldn't find any photos of you. on my camera or in my phone or…" he trails off. 
your heart thrums harder in your chest. "yeah?" 
"do…do you have photos of me?" he asks. timidly, softly. his eyes trained on his camera, unseeing, breath held in his chest waiting for your answer.
"of course i do," you murmur. you hope he can hear the smile in your voice, know that it's for him.  "rockstar." 
his fingers twitch, and he looks up at you, a searing intensity in his eyes that wasn't there before, flames licking at your cheeks as you hold his gaze, a warmth that sparks down your spine like fireworks. the sounds of the party fade away, sealing you in the vacuum of his attention.
"y/n,"  his voice drops an octave, all the softness drained out of it. 
"haechan?" 
"let me take a photo of you," he murmurs. "please." 
"now?" 
"no, not now," he says, slowly. "you know what i mean, princess." 
but you never get to clarify, because someone taps you lightly on the shoulder. haechan's eyes flicker behind you, all the intensity faded out, and it feels like your lungs fill with air again as you turn to see jisung, holding two cups in his hands, one of which he's holding out to you. 
you're torn between crushing guilt, and relief that he doesn't hate you. 
"j-jisung," you splutter. "jisung, hi." 
"hi, y/n." he smiles, nudging the cup towards you again, and you take it. almost against your will, your eyes dart over to haechan, but his face is impassive and neutral, camera laying forgotten on his lap as he turns quickly to survey the party behind him. was he trying to offer you privacy, or was he upset? 
you sip from the drink, trying not to make a face at the overwhelming sweetness that floods your tastebuds. the boy had barely put any alcohol in it. your hand almost inches towards the cup haechan made for you, wanting to balance out the taste, before you stop yourself. 
you didn't want to hurt his feelings again. 
"it's been a while," you say, sheepishly. "and again, i'm really sorry about last time."
"it's okay," he says, cheerfully. "haechan already apologised. besides, you can make it up to me on our date."
jisung's words have a physical effect on haechan. you feel him tense up behind you, body going stiff as he turns back to watch you, eyes trained on the side of your face. 
"you still owe me a date." you don't know if it's determination, or sheer recklessness, that inspired jisung to say this to you as you stood in the kitchen with haechan just inches away, the side of his thigh still brushing your waist. "are you free tomorrow night?" 
you try your best not to look at haechan. he had no right to care, you didn't owe him anything. you didn't know what you wanted to see on his face either way — whether his jealousy would make you angry, whether his sadness would hurt you instead. 
"i am," you agree, hesitantly, and jisung's close-lipped smile blooms. 
"you know there are other boys out there right? that there's a world beyond the band?" 
"shut up, jaemin," you mumble, checking your reflection in the dressing room mirror one last time. 
"this is good for you." his tone has changed, as he leans against the locked door. "jisung is nice. i hope it works out." 
tonight's show had been different. jaemin had reluctantly confirmed that it wasn't just your imagination — the way haechan was quieter throughout, more self-conscious in his performance, eyes barely scanning the crowd, taking longer glances at you throughout the show. jisung's confidence, on the other hand, poured off him in waves, his jacket unzipped, gums showing as he smiled wide. 
"i know." you sling your bag across your body, adjusting your skirt, as you turn to face him, taking a deep breath. "i'm really giving him a chance, jaemin. i'm…i'm taking this seriously, even if you don't believe me." it wasn't a lie. you barely knew anything about jisung, and jisung barely knew anything about you — but he was always sincere and sweet, quietly brave under his shyness. you couldn't forget the way he looked at you even with haechan by your side. it made you want to give him a chance too.
"i believe you," he reassures. "good luck, okay?" the door unlatches with a small click, and he gives you one last wave before heading out into the corridor. 
your eyes dart back to your reflection one last time before you turn back, satisfied with your appearance, and start towards the door. you barely take a step before there's a creak, and you think it's jaemin coming back, or perhaps jisung, wondering why you took so long. 
but of course, things are never easy. 
a familiar face enters the room, pushing the door open wide. he doesn't bother to close it, just takes you in for a second — eyes sweeping your frame, taking in your jewelry, the hints of makeup on your skin, your clothes, your neat hair. dejavu crawls over your skin, remembering the first time you'd met jisung, the way haechan had cornered you in the dressing room after, too. you tense your shoulders, preparing for the fight. 
"you look nice," he says, quietly. 
your lips part. "haechan-" 
but before you can speak, he's blurting out his next words. "j-jisung's going to love it," he stammers out, shadows flickering in his gaze as he swallows, throat bobbing. "i… i just came here to say good luck." at your surprised expression, his lips curve up into a sad smile. "that…that's what friends do, right?" 
"yeah." your hands grip onto the sling of your bag tightly, afraid of what your hands would do if you let go. 
"i'm going to go now," he mumbles. "i…have fun, y/n." 
there isn't a trace of sarcasm in his tone, his eyes soft and fond. he leaves before you can say another word, not closing the door behind him. you can hear his boots all the way down the corridor, can hear him disappear up the stairs. 
you try not to think about his voice, as you take the back exit out of the venue, see jisung standing in the warm summer night, smiling under a streetlight. try not to dwell on the fact that haechan might have actually wished the best for you – no more layers of pretense under pretense, no more feelings without reason. 
it's easier said than done.
two hours pass, your food gone from your plates, only the dregs of your drinks left in their glasses, before jisung finally clears his throat. 
"this isn't working out, is it?" 
"i'm sorry," you say, biting your lip. you'd walked to see a movie, something jisung had picked out, but had been mind-numbingly dull to you. you settled to watch his reactions instead, the way his hands flew over his eyes at the more intense scenes, the way he bit down on his fingers when the tension spiked. it was cute, but less so when he started asking you questions about the movie, and you had to admit you didn't remember any part of the plot past the first 20 minutes. 
late night dinner hadn't been better, each topic running itself to the ground quickly, your opinions and lack of opinions causing each conversation to crash to an uncomfortable halt. good things take time, had been jaemin's text to you when you asked for help. you were sure that jisung and you weren't acting like your true selves, the prospect of the date altering the way you talked and responded to each other, until you'd finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you just weren't compatible. 
"i really thought this would work out," jisung says, a tinge of sadness coloring his words. 
"i wanted it to," you confess. selfishly, you had almost been excited at the prospect of things working out with jisung — needing confirmation that you could still feel for others. excited for the date leading to the next, to fall in love with surety. 
excited to find the first relationship, the first 'you and i' that haechan seemed to think you deserved. 
"it's okay," jisung reaches out, pats your hand clumsily, shyly, as if surprised that reaching towards you meant he actually got to touch you  "i didn't know much about you when i asked you out, anyway. just thought you were really pretty." he looks mortified again, and it makes you laugh — everything about him still endearing.
"do you want to just be friends?" you ask, gently. 
it's like a weight lifts from the conversation, and he sighs, relieved. "yeah," he echoes. "friends." 
the silence that follows is a lot more peaceful. jisung slumps slightly in his seat, like the tension has left his body. his deep voice somehow still manages to sound timid when he speaks up next. 
"since we're friends…" 
you nod, encouragingly, taking a last sip of your drink. 
"can i ask…do you like haechan?" 
you nearly choke. jisung was looking at you carefully, although he smiled at the expression on your face. 
"a-are you sure you want to talk about this?' you stammer. 
he shrugs, but there's something unreadable in his expression. "i'll always be curious about it, and i guess this is my chance to ask." 
you don't have the heart to answer him directly. 
"i…i used to," you say, slowly. "but that was when i didn't know him." 
"know him?" he asks, confused. 
you nod. "yeah. i didn't really know him as a person….just…knew the performance, i guess." 
jisung still looks confused, but he nods along. "well, do you know him now?" 
you think of the sunlight in his living room. the faint dimple on his cheek as he showed you a photo of his sister running towards the camera, her face alight as she called out for her big brother. his arms around you in the kitchen, as he asked you to stay. the slope of his neck as he turns towards you at the end of a song — the fading sound of his guitar as his eyes sought yours. 
"maybe," you say, softly. 
"and?" jisung prompts. "could you like him now?" 
you don't answer him aloud, but your unspoken words ring in your head. 
it's different this time, haechan tells himself, as he grips his phone in his hands. 
it's different this time, because he knew where you were. he knew why you weren't calling. 
he slumps back against his bed, his body heavy with alcohol but his mind racing wild, each thought outpacing the next. 
the apartment was silent and empty. both jeno and mark were gone for the night. haechan hadn't bothered to go to the party, knowing that he would feel jisung's absence like a pain lodged in his ribs. he wonders if jisung will bring you home, here, whether you'd let him, even if he knew jisung wasn't the type of boy to go further than hand-holding on the first date. he thinks of it anyway — of hearing your sounds through his bedroom wall. whether it would make you needier to know haechan was listening. 
he feels like a loser. he's never felt more uncomfortable in his own skin, more unclean, more ashamed. but then again, there's no one around to know, as he lets his mind wander a little farther, away from you and jisung, away from his phone, sinking deep into the last time he'd touched your skin, images and sensations jumping out eagerly at him when he closed his eyes. flicks through moments that caused a heat to lick down his spine, the familiar hum of pleasure buzzing low in his navel — your legs on his shoulders, your hands in his hair. your taste, the patterns he would draw on your body so you'd shake just the way he liked, the spot on your neck he could kitten-lick to feel you tense up all around him. 
that night, even after he'd fucked you in the store room, you had been insatiable. 
he'd tried to touch you like the other girls he used to play with — never speaking much, preferring to use his mouth for other things, let their own imaginations run wild with what he could be thinking behind his hooded eyes. he'd taken you with your face turned away from him, pleasure without intimacy, sucking bruises as a keepsake for you after the night ended, not as if you were his to keep or to lose. 
let's try not to do anything romantic. 
but then you'd begged him to talk to you. told him to take you home. he'd hated it — hated the way you folded for him, like someone had given him powers he couldn't help abuse. do you know how tender this is for me? he'd wanted to ask, as he was touching you again in his sheets back home, racing to meet your every demand before you asked for it. 
your legs parted for him as he entered you, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure to watch your every expression, the look he'd been dying to see — your eyelashes fluttering, lips parted silently, the sharp gasp as he found your soft spot, your hands scrabbling against his skin. he held your gaze even as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, ankles locked in a sweetheart's cross behind him as he pushed your legs even higher, letting him in deeper. he'd never imagined himself with anyone like this before — a position so full of love and closeness, feeling your body and ripple against his, leaning in to kiss your lips softly, kiss away your desperation. 
he'd almost gone crazy when you found your voice amidst all the pleasure. 
"donghyuck," you'd breathed, saying the name like a prayer. "feels so good." 
he had stilled, slowing to a stop, even though he was painfully hard in you. his heart racing in his chest, pounding so hard he felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.
"you," you mumbled, slowly grinding your hips against him. "you make me feel so good, 's like no one else-"  
"yeah?" he picks up the pace again, tilting your body at an angle now so he could go even deeper, watches the way your face changes. he was the one who pulled that sound from your chest — sated but desperate at the same time, needy but satisfied. "i make you feel this good, right? i'm good for you, everything's for you-" he babbled, not making sense to even himself, your praise burying itself deep inside him like a siren song. 
you'd choked out more praises, pretty words tumbling from your parted lips, your eyes never leaving his. 
"more, hyuck-" you pulled at him, nails scratching down his back. "hyuck-" 
it's like he can hear your voice, as his hand slides down to his hip, down to his leaking cock. 
he jerks himself off like that — to the images of you pressed under him, your voice calling his name. he does it fast, with no finesse — tugging roughly, the slide too dry, but he doesn't care about drawing out the pleasure, doesn't think it matters if you're not here with him. 
he feels even filthier after he finishes — peeling off his soiled shirt, as he stumbles to the bathroom. he knows he won't hear from you tonight, that you wouldn't do that to jisung, but still he keeps his phone unlocked with the ringer on next to his bed as he lays down again. 
maybe he would wake up, and you would tell him he could never see you or touch you again. his mind wanders in another direction now, away from your body, away from pleasure — to the ways you made his heart squeeze tight in his chest. when you said his name. when you'd comforted him as he was crying, the kindness in your eyes despite all the ways he hurt you. sitting on the kitchen counter, thinking of ways to keep you with him as your eyes wandered off. look at me, he'd wanted to beg. think of me. just me. 
he goes to sleep thinking about how this could be the last night before you'd really only exist in memory and fantasy, before everything changes.
@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35
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totalswag · 2 months
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love love love ur writing babes!!
maybee u could please do one where reader begs rafe for a darry ring, like the $500 ones u can only buy once in ur life and u have to submit ur id to buy it.. i want to know what ur thought process on how rafe would go about it? 🫣🫣🫣
promise sealed — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note I don't think you guys realize how much it means to me when you compliment my writing. I hope you enjoy this request lovie.
summary rafe buys you a darry ring showing his love and devotion to your relationship.
warnings none
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Rafe Cameron was not used to hearing "no." In his universe, money and power could sway any circumstance to his liking. So, when you casually mentioned a Darry Ring—an unique sign of eternal love that could only be acquired once in a lifetime—he became fascinated.
You were seated on the patio of Tanny Hill with Rafe to your right, his arm over your shoulder, watching the sunset from afar. The summer wind on your skin and the birds chirping made the moment feel especially pleasant.
"Baby have you heard of a Darry Ring before?" You blurt out, playing with Rafe's gold ring.
"I've heard about those rings," Rafe replied, and raising an eyebrow at you. "Why do you want one so badly?" He was curious and wanted to know more.
You took a deep breath, knowing that you needed to express your feelings clearly. "This isn't just any ring, Rafe. This is a promise. They only allow you to buy one in your entire life, and you must submit your ID to confirm it. It signifies that the person wearing it is the only one for you. Forever."
"Forever, huh?" he wondered, more to himself than you. His fingers tapped against the armrest, and you could see the wheels churning in his head.
You nodded, thinking he understood how much this meant to you. "Yes, forever." It's not about money, Rafe. "It's about the promise."
Rafe loves you more than anything in this world. You're his everything. He would do anything for you, literally. One thing he fears the most is losing you and breaking the promise of never hurting you.
Everyone sees how in-love you are with each other. The way you look at each other is like you two are the only people in the room. The moment you got together, friends started talking about your wedding day.
But as he saw the openness in your eyes, he felt something shift. You weren't asking for financial things; you were asking for a pledge, a piece of his heart.
As the rest of the night went on, the conversation about the ring stayed in Rafe's mind.
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Over the next four days, Rafe found himself continuously thinking about the Darry Ring. Constantly on his mind going back and forth. One thing Rafe doesn't want to do is buy this ring for you then could do something that may hurt you; never in his life does he want to hurt you.
You asked him about the ring one of the days you were hanging out. He told you he was looking into it but never gave you a final answer.
He did research, learning about the company's ideology and the importance of the ring. He even read comments from other couples who had purchased the ring, and each story touched a deep part of him. He wanted this to be perfect.
Once Rafe came the finalization about the ring he started to search for the perfect one for you. Luckily for him, he's been saving up money for special things like this.
Rafe spoke with his sister, Sarah, about the concept of getting you the ring. She was quite excited about the ring. She assisted him with the design because you two hang out occasionally.
Rafe accepted that this wasn't only about you; it was also about him. It was about his willingness to venture into the unknown and truly commit to someone he loved. The Darry Ring's exclusivity was both scary and thrilling. It meant he'd always put you first.
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A few days ago the ring was ready to be picked up on the mainland. He was so excited and nervous to see how the ring turned out; made sure it was perfect.
He decided on a simple yet intimate setting. He took you to your favorite spot by the beach, where the two of you had shared countless memories.
You were sitting on a blanket with food you ordered from a restaurant down the road. The waves hitting shore filled your ears. People talking amongst themselves, kids running on shore, etc.
"The sunset looks beautiful tonight, don't you think?" Your gaze is drawn to the sunset in front of you, with the waves gently touching the shore. 
"Not as beautiful as you" Rafe replies, kissing your cheek while reaching in his back pocket for the Darry Ring.
You could feel his heart racing thousands miles per hour with your back pressed against his chest. Frowning with concern before he spoke up again.
"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," he began, pulling out the small, elegant box from his pocket. "About promises and forever."
He actually got it.
Your eyes widened when you realized what was going on. Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. Getting chocked up by the moment. Searching for the right words to say.
Rafe opened the box to discover the stunning Darry Ring inside. "This ring represents something to both of us. It's a vow that you're the only one for me, and I'm willing to commit to you for the rest of my life."
Tears slowly fall down your face; carefully wiping them off your face. Now your heart is beating thousand miles per-hour. Your entire body is on cloud nine.
“Wh-a-t did I get to deserve someone like you Rafe?” You cry, lifting your shaky left hand, allowing Rafe to slide the ring on your finger.
"I love you so much, sweetie. You mean the world to me. Our love is stronger than any other." You cut Rafe off by pulling him in for a long kiss, your arms gradually tightening around his neck and his hands grabbing you around the waist. 
It was the perfect moment that you'll cherish for the rest of your life. You couldn't take your eyes off the ring, admiring its beauty for the rest of the night.
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my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
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sourbinnie · 1 year
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☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆
♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!
maknae line
a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]
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chan ✉
arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.
then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 
"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."
"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 
"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."
eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.
minho ✉ 
fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.
"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.
"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.
"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.
"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.
"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.
changbin ✉ 
it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.
"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.
"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."
he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 
"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.
"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.
hyunjin ✉
as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 
"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.
"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.
"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 
"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."
"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 
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cuteselle · 2 months
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⊱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱.
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𝓢 — enha maknae line saying you remind them of their ex in an argument
maknae line 𖹭 fem reader , angst , cussing , breakup in riki , u don't let it slide w jungwon , not proofread — 991 wc
ac 𖧷 .. when fluff comes yk i gotta double it w angst! this isn't that good because i haven't written it in months.. enjoy!
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YANG JUNGWON ᰋ you and jungwon had been bickering all evening, and the tension in the room was thick. it felt like every little thing was setting the other off, and you were both getting more and more frustrated by the minute. as the argument escalated, jungwon's frustration finally boiled over. "you've been ditching our dates for two weeks, this is the first time i've seen you!" you yelled, not minding the fact that everyone else was only upstairs.
“oh my god yn, you're acting like my ex can you calm down?” he snapped, his words cutting deep. your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, and you felt a rush of anger and hurt. "i can't believe you just said that," you shot back, your voice shaking with emotion. "i'm not going to stand here and take that kind of disrespect."
jungwon looked taken aback by your reaction, but he didn't back down. "well, maybe if you weren't acting like her, i wouldn't have said it," he retorted, his voice defensive. you felt your anger rising, and you knew you needed to get some space before things got even worse. that's when jake had stepped down, listening to the argument and debating when to step in.
"i need you to leave," you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. jungwon looked at you in surprise, but he didn't argue. he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, but before he left, he turned back to you. "yeah okay," he said, his voice softening slightly. "we can talk about this when we've both had a chance to cool off."
you didn't respond as he walked out the door, and you heard the click of the lock as he left and slammed the door. you fell to your knees, feeling exhausted and drained from the argument. everyone quickly rushing downstairs to your side, “aish, don't cry yn.. i'm sure he'll come around, yeah?”
KIM SUNOO ᰋ “really, sunoo? it's not even that big of a deal, he's my friend.” you continued, running your hands through your hair. you've known gyuvin longer than sunoo, so why would be be so mad that you want to hang with your friend every now and then?
“do you not see the way he looks at you? it pisses me off,” he started, you and sunoo had been arguing for at least an hour, and you could feel the tension building between you. you were both getting more and more frustrated, and it felt like every word was just adding fuel to the fire. "you're acting like giselle, she always said he was just a friend." he snapped, his voice filled with frustration.
your heart sank at his words, and you felt a wave of hurt wash over you. giselle was sunoo's ex, and he had always spoken of her in negative terms. to hear him compare you to her was like a knife to the heart. “how could you say that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "you know how much it hurts me to be compared to her.”
sunoo looked away, his jaw clenched. "i'm sorry, my love" he muttered. "i didn't mean it, i swear." but the damage had already been done. you could feel yourself starting to overthink, wondering if sunoo still had feelings for giselle, or if he thought you were just as bad as she was. you knew you needed some space to clear your head.
"i think i need some time alone," you said, your voice still shaking with emotion. "i'm going to go for a walk." you grabbed your jacket and walked out the door, not looking back as you headed down the street. you didn't know how long you would be gone, but you knew you needed to sort through your thoughts before you could face sunoo again.
NISHIMURA RIKI ᰋ you and ni-ki had been arguing for what felt like hours. it had started out as a small disagreement about household chores, but it had quickly spiraled out of control. you were both tired from a long day at work, and your tempers were short. you felt like you were doing more than your fair share of the chores, while ni-ki felt like you were nitpicking and being overly critical.
the more you tried to explain your perspective, the more defensive ni-ki became, and before long, you were both shouting at each other. you knew that this wasn't productive, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from engaging in the argument. “ni-ki it isn't that hard to just clean up around the house, i get you're busy but sometimes you're doing nothing!”
"you're acting just like my ex, can you quit it?" he spat, his words cutting deep. “i clean around, i tell you i'll do things later.” he continued on this rant, but you were still stuck on one thing. you? acting like his ex? he must have just hated you then cause he hated his ex with his heart. your heart sank at his words, and you felt like you had been punched in the gut. you knew how much ni-ki had been hurt by his past relationship, and to hear him compare you to his ex was the ultimate blow.
"if i'm such a terrible girlfriend, then maybe we should just break up," you cut him off, your voice trembling with emotion. "if that's how you feel, then there's no point in continuing this relationship.” you turned around to get your bag, ni-ki's eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately tried to backtrack.
"baby, i didn't mean it like that," he stammered, trying to apologize. "i was just upset, i didn't mean to hurt you.” you scoffed, opening the door to what was your shared apartment. “well you did, i won't be a burden to you anymore.” you took off the promise ring he gave you, and his eyes swelled with tears. “bye riki.”
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© copyrighted by cuteselle. do not repost, ask to translate. comments and reblogs appreciated !
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yoongsisbae · 10 months
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Seven Days a Week | JJK
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idol!jungkook x noona!reader. Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week.
Happy holidays! I'm thankful for my sweet readers who will forgive me for taking so long to post (I hope) :'D
Warnings: pwp (so basically like the song), bdsm because I feel like it's on brand, jealous/clingy/possessive jk because also on brand, dubcon, soft yandere, jk is sf obsessed with u, he kinda toxic tbh so if you don't like that don't read this lol, rough sex, voyeur, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation, voyeur, tied up, sweet aftercare eventually lol
---
Jungkook wound himself around your body, held you tighter than he should. If he could bring you closer to him, he would. He couldn't help himself, sometimes, he wanted to make you cry out, make it hurt, so he could be assured of your devotion, that you'd still love him, that you wouldn't leave him at his worst. It eased his anxious heart when you leaned into his rough embrace instead of shying away, looked back at him with glistening eyes full of tears, gripped him back just as tightly and cried a soft moan.
He couldn't help himself, Jungkook loved you, and he wound himself up over thoughts of you leaving him for someone better, for someone with more time for you, someone who could show their love better than Jungkook could. Jungkook could only whisper his love to you when no one else was looking, show how much he needed you behind closed doors, in dark rooms, hidden from the public always.
Jungkook wanted to scream out to the world his love for you, but he couldn't, for so many reasons he shouldn't. It wasn't fair and it made him mad, made him jealous, so he made you scream his name instead, into pillows, behind his palm, underneath him, just hoping it would be enough to keep you with him forever.
He wanted you to ache for him night after night, think about him as much as he thought about you, at every minute, every second, every day.
MONDAY
Jungkook opens the door to his apartment.
He smiles to himself as he takes off his boots. The smell of home-cooking hits him immediately. Jungkook can hear you in the kitchen making dinner, chopping vegetables and singing.
He creeps closer, watching as you dance to music playing loudly, and unbeknowest to you, putting on a rather nice show for your mischievous boyfriend.
Jungkook can't help himself, and honestly you should be more aware of your surroundings. He's teaching you a lesson!
"Boo!"
You crumple onto the floor, screaming like you've just seen a ghost.
You smack your terror of a boyfriend as Jungkook joins you on the floor, doubling over in a fit of laughter. "You're going to give me a heart attack!" You clutch your racing heart, glaring at your giggly attacker.
"Yah! How did you not hear me? What if I had been a burglar?!"
"...in this building?" You shove him.
"What if you were alone at your place? You need to pay attention. You could have been taken advantage of!"
You cross your arms. "Shouldn't you still be at work?"
Jungkook's eyes sparkle with mirth as he helps you up. "Should I go back?" He laughs and kisses you when you pout, breathing you in.
"You look beautiful," he murmurs into your neck, hands gripping your ass, pulling you into him. "Why are you dressed up? Planning on going out while I'm at work?"
"I'm not dressed up," you argue. Your face feels hot as his eyes rake over your body. "And no, of course not, I wanted to look nice for you."
"Good." Jungkook buries his head in your shoulder, taking his time slipping his hands under the hem of your dress and exploring your body. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you in this dress but me, okay?"
He kisses you, licks across your lips, swallowing up your protests. "I'm not done cooking," you mumble between heated kisses.
Jungkook reaches over and turns off the burner. "It can wait. Right now, I want something else to eat," he teases.
"But-"
He nips at your lips, rolls his tongue in your mouth until you're gasping. "I'm not hungry. Well..." his gaze travels down to your lips and then lower. "I'm hungry for you, Noona," he whispers in your ear, hugging you to him tightly.
You let a moan escape you as his breath tickles your ear, and he lets out a low heavy grunt, nipping at your lobe. He wants you closer, he grips your ass, yanking you into his growing erection.
You kiss him, giving in. Jungkook is always so very good at distracting you.
And his distractions often hit you like a whirlwind. Your idol boyfriend can easily turn up the heat from zero to a hundred with his adept hands and talented tongue.
Those hands roam your body, that tongue plays with your own. And before you know it, Jungkook is easily pressing two digits into you.
The sudden intrusion stings even in your growing wetness, filling you with pressure that turns into inescapable pleasure, sending trembles through you.
Jungkook's lips never leave yours. He loves kissing you until you're whining for him to slow down, heaving in air in the seconds his lips part from yours, your soft lips becoming swollen and sensitive the longer he stays pressed to you, until you're pushing against his chest to let you breath.
Jungkook loves the way your body squirms against him, he grabs your wrist, moving his mouth down to nip and suck at your neck as his fingers press deeper and faster into you. No matter how many times he does it, it feels like fireworks, electrifying you, an overwhelming touch that makes your legs buckle and your body shake.
You welcomed his rough touches. You couldn't pinpoint the day his usual gentleness became something more, the hesitation in his movements became confident hands holding onto your throat and deep rough thrusts he was no longer holding back, or when your stilted moans became loud and shameless, but you craved seeing that side of him, one you could only bring out of him.
Perhaps you shouldn't feed into your younger boyfriend's demanding nature so much. When he held your hand against your back, nipped at your shoulder, you should have put your foot down and told him to stop and let you finish cooking, but it felt so much better to wrap your legs around him instead and kiss him back, to let him move your body the way he wanted and give into everything. Pleasure, pain, both made your heart race the same, rose the temperature in your body almost indistinguishably.
Jungkook groans, low, hissing, whimpering. He is a vocal lover, it was never a surprising fact and only excited you more to hear how much you affected him, made you gush wetness at his deepened voice.
Jungkook groans even louder as you coat his fingers in more slick, thumb circling over your clit as he rocks his hand against your core, making you quiver and let out the most obscene sounds Jungkook's ever heard. Your sweet voice always delighted him, but this, made him rock hard.
"I missed you, Noona," Jungkook whines against your throat. Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sucks harder on the sensitive skin of your neck, making sure to mark you so others know they can't have you, so even though you can't let them know Jungkook is yours, you will have something to show off his devotion.
If Jungkook could not be with you out in the open, he would make sure your body revealed his presence nonetheless. So many times he would grip your thighs, dig his fingers into your flesh, so you would have to cover your legs from prying eyes or admit you've been held, touched, fondled to any man who dared to look at you. Just the thought of their eyes on you made Jungkook press down harder.
This tiny dress, this low cut hem and short skirt wouldn't hide his marks. He swallows down his growing irritation when he thinks of you leaving his home in something so revealing. Part of him wants to rip it off you, hide it so you'll leave in his sweats and hoodie, so you'll have part of him around you all day until he can hold you again.
Jungkook wanted to watch you fall apart on his fingers, but he had riled himself up too much now, he needed to silence his worries again, he needed to feel you around his cock instead, right now, in his kitchen. He quickly turned you around, hugged your body close to him and replaced his fingers with his thick length instead.
You loved his soft caresses, but the desperation in the way he wanted to bury himself inside your body made you burn all over. "I missed you too," you whined, pressing your hips back into him.
You cried out from the burn as you stretched around his length, gripping the counter as Jungkook filled you fuller. Jungkook fucked into you over and over, letting the frustrations of his work day out, forgetting everything but the warmth of your body, until he felt like he was bursting, then he pulled out and slapped your ass hard, pulling you into his arms.
He decided he would have his meal in the bedroom instead.
TUESDAY
You sit in Jungkook's studio, enjoying your day off with him. He's working on his newest song. You catch him staring at you and it makes you smile. He chews on his bottom lip as he mumbles the chorus to himself and you stretch your sore limbs.
Jungkook twirls his pen out of habit, singing the soulful melody softly, restless legs knocking into yours as he taps his foot.
"This is putting me in the mood," you tease when he goes over another rather scandalous line in his song.
"Yeah?" he smiles.
"Your voice is so sexy."
He smirks, tapping his pen. "Come here."
You definitely promised a certain leader you would not be a distraction when visiting. Jungkook leans back in his studio chair, spreading his legs and instead of repeating himself, he taps his knee impatiently.
What if someone comes in? What if they hear you? What if you get caught? You glance toward the studio door. "We shouldn't..."
Jungkook can't help himself when it comes to you. How can he stop himself when you say it like that? Breathy and low, and a touch of playfulness in your voice, a cheeky half smile across your full lips? He licks across his own lips, adjusting his lip ring, imagining all the things he'd like to do to you in his studio. Your gaze follows his actions, your fingers absentmindedly brushing across your mouth in response.
"Ride me." Jungkook grunts, adjusting himself. "No one will find out if you keep quiet," he whispers, smiling deviously.
You scoff, standing up and settling yourself down in his lap despite your apprehensions. "Just kissing."
"Kissing, annnnd?" He teases, grabbing you roughly to bring you closer.
"We can't," you groan when his hips press up into yours, his strong grip on your body tightening.
"So what if someone catches us? You're mine, aren't you?" he mutters.
"Yes, but-"
"I want you," he whines. "I need you. Please Noona, give it to me." He slides his hand in between your legs, fingertips dancing over your panties, pressing against the wet fabric at your center.
"I can't stop thinking about how good your pussy would feel." He steadily rubs across the sheer cloth, "Fuuuuck, let me feel you just for a second."
Your breath hitches at his obscene words, how can you deny him now? "A quick one," you kiss him with no time to waste, hiking up your skirt higher. "Just for a second," you remind him.
Jungkook grunts in satisfaction, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down and exposing his already solid erection, tongue exploring your mouth as if the taste of you is the only cure for the hunger inside of him.
"Slow," you tell him, rubbing your pussy over his leaking cock, but he only smirks and pulls your hips down on his cock, swallowing up your whimpers.
He thrusts up fast, fucking you hard, enjoying the sight of you as you bite down screams of ecstasy, unable to keep yourself completely quiet. It's like a game, one he intends on winning, and one he certainly has the stamina and strength to win, but your tightness is proving to be formidable at unraveling his conquest of you.
He drags your shirt up, yanks your bra down until he unveils your perky nipples and he is quick to devour you, suck until you are all but overcome by the fevered attention of your body.
Until you are overcome, coming hard on his cock, shaking against him, quivering for him to relent as he does a victory lap across your body, pinching and sucking and fucking you until you are boneless in his arms, pliable to his whims.
The way you mold yourself to him, surrender your body to him, sends Jungkook over the edge quickly. It's all he wants, it's all of you.
WEDNESDAY
"Noona, it's been so long since we had sex," Jungkook groans.
"We had sex yesterday, you crazy!" you remark, giving up on the movie in front of you.
"Yeah, that was yesterday, we haven't had sex today at all." Jungkook runs his hands down the curves of your body, enticing you even further away from the action on the television.
It works, his hands touching your body, his softly spoken words of encouragement, so needy and persistent, rile you up to the point where you can’t help but give in to Jungkook.
The tips of his fingers are electric as they run down your skin. It's like you are hard wired for him, turned on by him so easily like a flip of a switch.
And you can feel his switch turning up too, pressing against your leg, growing bigger and bigger and more demanding to be touched.
Jungkook was practically hardwired for you too. It's probably why he gets hard just sitting beside you, so suddenly when you are just cuddling or talking. And like a switch being flipped, his whole demeanor changes, gone is your cute cuddly boyfriend. Jungkook's eyes go dark and determined, he breathes out low and seductive, and you can't help but fall into him further.
The way he explores your body and groans deeper sends jolts of energy through you, his strong hands caressing your stomach and sides, carefully pushing up your shirt and grabbing your tits, his body pressed tight against you as he moves on top, in between your legs, your heat and his meeting and fitting together so perfectly; it makes you frenzied for him.
You finally reach for him, grip his shoulders in a vice and arch into him, needing him impossibly closer.
Jungkook presses his head deep between the valley of your breasts and inhales raggedly, it’s shocking and makes you practically delirious with lust. You thought your sex drive was abnormal, but your younger boyfriend really could go all day and all night, probably every hour on the hour, if you let him.
”Please…” you rasp.
”Please what, baby?”
You bite your lip, too shy to ask him. Jungkook grins. He loves when you act like this, needy and whiny for him, cute and shy.
You may be older than him, but Jungkook’s always been the dominate one in the relationship, and if it weren’t for a few very calculated ‘y/n Noona’s amongst company, your friends would have never guessed he was the youngest between you.
You acted like you hated when he called you ‘Noona,’ as it was a sore reminder that you were at a disadvantage by societal standards, but really, alone together, when Jungkook softly whines for you, it’s just another switch that brightens your love for him, your desire for him….
“Please, fuck me,” you whisper, barely audible.
”What, baby?”
You wrap your legs tighter around his lean waist, diving your hand in between your bodies to reiterate your desperate need for him.
Jungkook moans deeply and lays heavy over you, head nestled back into the softness of your body. He lets his tongue lick across your neck and shoulder as you wrap your fingers tightly around his erection.
With his eyes no longer penetrating you, Jungkook falling apart over you, your head less cloudy by his intoxicating attractiveness, you can whisper what you want most directly in his ear. “Please fuck me. I’m so wet for you.”
Jungkook groans, “Fu-uck.”
”Fill me up with your cock.”
He lifts himself up. ”Yeah, you want my cum?” 
His eyes rack over your body. You nod quickly, wavering in your confidence. 
As if somehow your boyfriend knew the insecurities surfacing inside you, he runs his hand softly over your cheek and down your neck, cupping your breast. “You’re so sexy, so good to me,” he breathes out, barely containing himself from ravaging you. “Want me to fuck you full of my cum, Noona?” He smirks, hand placed back against your cheek, thumb finding it’s way inside your mouth to press against your bottom lip.
He knows it already, he knows you.
”Yes,” you whisper breathlessly, grinding against his cock. “I want you, fu-uck —oh— please.”
Jungkook dives in for a kiss as you guide his cock through your slippery folds. He swallows up your moans eagerly as he thrusts his hips to meet yours.
You choke on your own cries, the air knocked out of you by his deep thrusts as you tighten yourself around him, holding onto him like a lifeline.
You really could drown in him, let yourself float deeper in the ocean of Jungkook’s love until his slippery embrace was all that surrounded you and all that you wanted. It was easy, natural, to sink deeper, to love him like you needed him to breathe.
One day you’ll reach the climax to that movie, but not tonight. Tonight, his climax is the ending you excitedly reach for.
THURSDAY
Sometimes you went days without him, some nights you would be fast asleep before Jungkook came home, some mornings he would be gone before you woke.
So each moment you had with the famous singer you treasured. But…
You also have to admit, there are some moments where you just want to…
Smack your boyfriend in the back of his beautiful head for being so aggravating!
You get so little time with him…not enough…and today Jungkook chose to spend that time giving you…the silent treatment!?
-
“Why are you mad? Talk to me.” You ask, after riding home with him in silence.
Jungkook bites his tongue.
“I’m leaving!” You groan, turning on your heel and heading back towards the front door. You didn’t want to leave, but being ignored by your boyfriend after missing him for so long was far far worse.
“Where are you going?!” He yells. “Going to see Jaehyun!?”
“What? No?! Wait, what?!” You stammer, perplexed.
Jungkook crosses his arms and looks away muttering to himself.
“JUNGKOOK, WHY ARE YOU SO MAD?”
“WHY DID YOU LET HIM FEED YOU?” Jungkook bursts out.
“Huh? Who? Jaehyun?!”
“Yes!”
“When did he-”
“The wrap!”
Your mind runs through tonight’s dinner party where you met up with Jungkook and his friends. You hadn’t even wanted to go, things like that made you anxious, but you missed your boyfriend like crazy and didn’t want to wait a second longer to see him.
In places like that, you had to make sure to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length, you never knew when a close moment in public could be used against you; so the few, the better.
You sat next to his friend Jaehyun, and he might have helped you make a wrap, now that you think about it…
The others teased Jungkook, noticing the irony of the situation when Jaehyun helped you pull away two perilla leaves stuck together, and Jungkook whined and acted angry and eventually laughed along.
Well, at least you thought it had been an act…
Clearly, it was not.
“Jungkook, really, Jaehyun? You’re jealous of him?”
“I'm not jealous!” And then he can’t help but add, “When we first met, whose picture did I find in your phone?”
“....I don't r-remember?” You definitely do remember.
He looks at you pointedly.
“…Jaehyun’s?”
He glares at you, seemingly furious at the fact that he made his point.
“Okay? So, what? You think this whole time, I’ve just been pining for Jeong Yuno? Just biding my time with you until I can be with Jeong Yuno?!”
“No-” he pouts.
“You don't believe me when I tell you I love you? You think I'm a liar?” You ask, on a tirade now.
“No-no. I just-”
“What?!”
“I'm sor-”
“Jungkook, I haven't seen you for over two weeks. Do you know how much I looked forward to tonight, to finally be with you? To see you? to spend time with you? The only reason I went to dinner is because you asked me to!”
Jungkook stays stubbornly quiet.
“I should go.”
Jungkook hugs you from behind before you can reach the door, pressing himself to your back. “No, don’t go, please don't go.”
You reach for the door handle. “I want to leave.” You didn't. You much rather enjoyed the heat of Jungkook’s body wrapped around you. But you’re mad now too and wanted to make a point.
“No.”
“Let me go.”
“I can't.”
Jungkook kisses your neck. He extinguishes your anger with each little peck, kisses like raindrops against your skin, fizzling out your heated disposition.
You turn around, glaring into his eyes. He would hate it if you ignored him like that, he would whine about it for hours!  And Jungkook is still mad, it’s a hard emotion for him to just let go of, even when he believes you. He had worked himself up thinking of his friend and you, imaginary scenarios where you left him for someone easier to be with, someone better than Jungkook.
He kept catching moments where his friend and you held each other’s attention. The way Jaehyun and you looked at each other and giggled when ‘it’ happened. 
Argh he hated it!!!! 
Jaehyun’s chopstick touched yours…he basically indirectly kissed you at that point! The next time you meet him, what’s gonna happen next, are you gonna fuck each other-
”What’s wrong now?” You whine out.
Jungkook gripped your head in his hands, smashing his lips into yours so fiercely you squeal in surprise. 
It almost works, his kiss and his body that you ached for all this time. You don’t hate him, you love him, you love his stupid over reactions and his possessive nature and his passion-
“Ow!”
You smack him away when he bites your bottom lip harshly.
“I'm sorry.” Jungkook is not sorry.
And you know it. You glare at him, grip his neck and kiss him roughly, biting down on his bottom lip, paparazzi photos be damned.  Jungkook hisses in pain, gripping you back harsher. You try to move away, close your mouth tightly, knowing he will try to bite you back harder, but he becomes desperate to kiss you, have your mouth, your tongue, have all of you, gripping your jaw tight, pressing so hard into you that your lips finally part for him.
You struggle and whimper and it only makes Jungkook more fevered. He yanks you off your feet before you know it, dragging you away from the exit, from the possibility of leaving him alone-
No no no, you had been so far away from him for so long. He needed you here. Right here with him. He needed your mouth on him and your skin on him, he needed to have you, and he especially needed to keep you away from anyone else.
His teeth drag along your skin. Jungkook is harsher than he usually is, which is saying a lot, and his rough touches make you feverish and aching for what’s to come and questioning if you want to continue. You dig your nails into Jungkook’s wide back, he sucks marks into your skin without any hesitation.
You squirm, his overwhelming affection rips through you and leaves you tingling, pulsing, gushing. He touches your body like he owns it, and he tells you so, grunting “mine” against your heated skin.
You're going to come for him, you're going to bare your body for him, you're meant for him and no one else, he can't take the thought of you with anyone else, he can't…
He kisses you like he has something to prove, wanting to make up the hours not with you.
You push against him but he's solid like a rock, he’s not going to move from on top of you.
He grunts, smelling you. “I don’t want anyone else to touch you but me.” “He didn’t touch me,” you remind him.
“His chopstick touched yours-”
You giggle, half groaning. “His ‘chopstick’ did not touch me.”
“His actual chopstick.” Jungkook’s anger is still evident, even when his eyes soften, his gaze darkens again.
“Okay, okay. Just don’t ever ignore me like that,” you pout. “You would hate it if I did that to you.”
”I know. I’m sorry, Noona.” He kisses you softly in apology. And once again, his kisses become rougher, more urgent, until you’re yanking at each other’s clothes again, squeezing handfuls of each other, becoming louder and louder in contest.
Perhaps you are too forgiving, but no one is perfect and yet your boyfriend comes very close.  
Perhaps you just want to appreciate these moments, so sweet and delicious, forget the sour ones, and your appetite is too ravenous, you hungered for him, you drooled for a taste of him.
“So wet...Noona, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s fingers sped up inside you. His other hand tangled itself in your hair, kept you from avoiding his gaze.
You gripped his thick cock in response. “So hard,” you moan.
You match each other’s pace, an unspoken race to see who reaches the finish line first. Jungkook refuses to lose, so he hikes you leg up higher, pushing his cock into you instead, setting his own brutal pace.
He fucks you hard, until you cry out the way he likes and shake exactly how he wants.
He circles your clit until you’re trembling. You grip his wrist but he's stronger than you and it doesn't deter him, digits pumping inside you at an unrelenting pace, intent on punishing you for the earlier night, Jungkook thinks you deserve a little punishment as long as you are enjoying it.
You clench around his cock so tight it’s painful for him to try to hold back any longer, but it’s an ache he accepts for you, like the ache he feels in his heart when you are not around, it’s all worth it to hold you in his arms and watch you fall into bliss.
“I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Kookie.”
”Again?”
“…We’re gonna have to change these sheets.”
FRIDAY
Jungkook set his suitcase down and walked quietly through his apartment, not wanting to wake you. He found you sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, cute as ever. He gave you a quick kiss before showering. When your boyfriend came back to you, you had contorted yourself in another position, arm hanging off the bed. He moved you gently and cuddled into your side, finally feeling at home and at peace in your warmth.
His hectic lifestyle meant this often happened, even when he had you, you were already gone far away into dreamland, and it would be Jungkook's turn to wait for you. He didn't mind it, even if your mind was resting, your body was fully aware of his presence.
He rests his head on your shoulder and runs his fingertips along your body, focusing on your nipples, teasing them until they stand erect.
It was his night time ritual at this point, sometimes he'd gently pull your shirt up and admire the way they hardened slowly. Sometimes he'd lick them, desperate for a taste of you. He would play with your body until sleep overtook him, until your softness and smell and the comfort of your presence lulled him to sleep. Hotel rooms without you were such a cold loneliness in comparison, he needed to feel that heat inside you.
And occasionally, like tonight, he would reach in between your legs and softly caress your folds for even more of a taste of you, hoping to rouse you awake so he could bury himself inside the heat of you. 
"I love you." Jungkook kisses the side of your open mouth and rubs your pussy slowly.
You were so tired you couldn't even find the energy to open your eyes, you just grunted softly, acknowledging his doting presence.
Jungkook slowly presses two digit inside your leaking hole, lying his head down on your chest. He alternates his attention between your breast and your cunt, lazily licking and dipping his digits inside you, occasionally rutting against you with his semi-firm cock, content only in the exploration of your body.
Until eventually, your arm finds its way into his hair, petting the soft ringlets of Jungkook's damp strands. "Feel good, Noona?" he murmurs.
"Mmmm."
Your eyes were still closed, your jaw still slack, part of you still present inside your dreams. But your legs widened and your cunt tightened around his digits, your walls sucking his fingers in.
"Can I fuck you?"
"Mmmmm."
You were dripping wet at this point, and it takes only one more squeeze from your silky walls for Jungkook to roll himself on top, pressing the head of his cock into you.
Jungkook lies on top of you, relishing in the feel of your pussy, tight and wet around his cock.
He almost falls asleep, the way your entire presence envelopes him makes him feel so relaxed and safe. After a long plane ride home, he wanted nothing more than to sink into you further.
But you whimper softly, gushing wetness around his member, so he gives you what your body wants, give it to you slowly, steadily, building the pleasure up for both of you. He could do this all night: rock into you, hold you and lie with you.
But you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his back and whimper, kissing his forehead, moaning out loud.
Jungkook finally lifts himself up, thrusting into you hard. Normally you would have squirmed and cried out at his sudden roughness, but your sleepy body rocked against his sheets and you arched your back into him instead.
"Fuuck. Noona, can I come inside?"
"Mm."
Jungkook spills into you, cock pulsing against your walls, filling your pussy full of his cum, then falls on top of you, spent, sighing against you.
You arch into him further, wanting release but too tired to voice your needs.
"Let me rest," he murmurs tiredly, slowly pressing his fingers inside your throbbing core, plugging his cum inside you. "Just for a bit, I promise, I'll make you cum, Noona." Jungkook rests his head next to you and closes his eyes, fingers stilling inside your walls.
It's almost torturous, but you don't even realize how needy you've become. You softly lift your hips up, rutting against his palm, until your dreams take you away again.
You dream of him, of course. You dream of his tight muscular body pressed against yours, his soft lips and sweet voice whispering dirty things into your ear. You dream of Jungkook fucking you until you scream and cry out his name over and over again. You dream of his fingers deep inside your walls, teasing out your orgasm until you're shaking, convulsing in unimaginable pleasure.
And suddenly your whole body stiffens and your legs lock around Jungkook's head as you come violently on his tongue.
You lift your head up and see your boyfriend smiling wide, head resting against your mound. "Morning, baby."
SATURDAY
"Jungkook, help! Jungkook!"
Jungkook comes running into the room, panicked at your yelling, and then he finds you...
…and begins to laugh.
You can hear your boyfriend's hysterics behind you. "This is not funny! Help!" you grunt, annoyed.
Jungkook sees you, legs kicking, body upside down over the armrest of his sectional, stuck in between the couch and the end table. "I tried to find where the cell phone charger went," you whine.
You push up on your elbow, but you have put yourself in such an awkward position you can't catch enough momentum to lift yourself up. "Heeelp! Pull me up!"
Jungkook surveys the situation closer and you closer. With the help of gravity your night shirt has ridden down over your behind, presenting the most enticing view of your bright red panties to your still laughing boyfriend. 
You grunt and try to push yourself up again, palms pressing against the wood flooring, but your center of gravity is too low to lift yourself alone and you can not change your position in the cramped space without bumping your head. Your boyfriend places his hands on your hips and you sigh in relief, until-
"Hey!" you yelp. Your very mischievous boyfriend starts to massage your backside, kneading your suppleness, moving closer and closer to…
"Fuck, you did this on purpose, didn't you?" Jungkook groans, gripping you tightly, two big handfuls of your bare ass. "Damn…"
You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "I'm not!" Jungkook slaps your backside hard, his palm spreading across the arch in your back. "Hey!" You squeal. "Help me up!"
"And if I fuck you instead?"
"Or you could help me up and we can-" your arms are getting tired, "-ugh— go to the bed?"
He pats your backside again, "Get up then," he laughs.
"I can't," you whine.
“Aww you really can’t lift yourself?”
“C’mon, you’re making me feel old,” you pout.
He yanks you up. Just a bit. Just to position yourself better for his viewing pleasure.
“Try again,” he laughs.
You straighten your arms once again, lifting your body. You almost made it, so close, but your backside collides with the growing bulge in Jungkook’s pants and you fall down over the couch’s arch again. Is he j-just over you? Watching you?
“Sorry, Noona,” he pauses, “but can’t we try it out?” He resumes the kneading, moving closer and closer to your core, until his nimble fingers slide over your slit and under your panties, pulling them down.
Jungkook’s proposal is tempting, his touches feel good, and although you and your boyfriend have christened most of the areas in his apartment, this is definitely a new endeavor.
“I guess- oh!” Jungkook presses himself all the way inside you. Had he been ready this whole time?
His pace is quick, not wanting to waste any time. He thrusts into you deep, the hard cushion of his couch making it so there is no escaping the length of his cock and the deepness of his ruts. There’s no escaping him, not that you want to…
You can’t do much of anything but hold yourself up, keep your arms straight, be good for him and take his cock.
It makes your toes tingle realizing how trapped you were to his whims as you let yourself be used by him. You wonder what Jungkook’s thinking, why he’s so enthusiastic, does he enjoy the fact that he has you helpless, unable to fight back? Does he like using you like this, a hole to fuck?
Is it depraved that you are enjoying this so much, that you are so turned on, that you’re nearing climax already.
His hand spreads your cheeks wider so he can admire himself disappear inside you. His thumb presses against your other hole as he takes in all of you, all his.
His thumb presses inside as he grips your ass tighter until its disappeared inside you like his cock. You’ve never felt so full before, so thoroughly used. Jungkook can feel your tightness, your gushing wetness. He listens to the heightened pitches in your moans. He’s nearing his high as well… 
His cock swells as he moves faster, finding the pace that he likes most, cock rubbing your slippery walls at the perfect angle to send him to climax. 
“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, shoving himself inside you deeper, cursing at how good you feel wrapped around him. He could never get tired of this, your silky walls and soft skin and the smell of your arousal consuming him. It makes him addicted, he’s addicted to you.
“Oh shit,” he pulls out, finishing across your exposed ass and finally finally Jungkook lifts you up and lays you across his couch, taking space next to you to relax.
“Fuck, I liked that.”
”Yeah?” You hum.
“Noona, I want to tie you up.”
Your cunt clenches at his confession.
“Hmm tomorrow.”
SUNDAY
"The food was so good," you hum, "thank you." You squeeze your boyfriend's hand as you walk hand in hand to his motorcycle. The plates presented to you were so beautiful, tasted amazing, and the whole night felt so romantic. The cozy atmosphere made every moment feel so special, made you fall in love with Jungkook all over again.
And stepping into the cool night air made the end of the night feel like a weightless dream. Walking hand in hand with your boyfriend under the stars as the wind picks up, you think this must be how birds feel flying together. You feel so free.
"I'm fine with takeout for next time, you know. You don't have to be so...extravagant." You sigh.
"It's our anniversary. You deserved a real date."
You chew on your lip, bringing up the giant elephant you tried to ignore all evening. "What if someone took a photo-"
Your idol boyfriend kisses your worries away. "That's what the private room was for, baby."
You fidget anxiously. "What if one of the servers recognized you, or the kitchen staff-"
Jungkook shakes his head, smiling, "My friends come here with their girlfriends all the time."
"Yeah, but they're not you."
Jungkook hugs you, leaning the weight of his body into yours. You stumble into the side of his bike and giggle but hug him tighter.
Under the dark night, the yellow street lamps, you give Jungkook a chaste kiss.
He smiles, licking his lips and kissing you again.
"What if someone sees!"
"The restaurant has been closed for over an hour, everyone's gone home," he murmurs into your lips.
"Not the staff," you mumble as he kisses your neck.
"No one is around," he whispers teasingly. He wants you, here, now, all of you around him. "This might be the only time we can..."
Maybe it was the romance of the night, or your need to please him after such a grand gesture, or your ache to indulge in him and his irresistible charm, but you couldn't find it in you to stop Jungkook's advances, even when his hand went under your dress.
He grips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his hip.
You lean against the seat of his motorcycle. This is crazy, this is insane. It's like he's asking to get caught. He's insane. He's...so sexy.
You hide your face into his shoulder, listening to him quickly unzip his pants.
It's so out in the open, so impulsive. The bike's metal is cold against your thighs and Jungkook is so so hot. You grip his biceps, nails digging into his big muscles. The angle is awkward and the stretch is tight, and his first thrust in knocks the wind out of you.
Fuck...fuuck...it feels so good, he smells so nice, and your adrenaline is so high over the thought of you both getting caught you think you may come with only a few more deep plunges of his cock inside your tight walls.
Until you think you might have caught something out of the corner of your eye and you hastily stop him and plunk his helmet right on top of Jungkook's head, concealing his identity. 
Jungkook hugs you close and you laugh when his helmet knocks into your forehead. "C'mon you crazy. Let's get out of here and finish what we started, hmm?"
-
Jungkook was worked up, painfully hard, and you very naughtily only made it so much worse for him on the ride home with your body pressed tight against his back and your hands caressing his abs down to his cock. He almost takes you again once he arrives in the safety of his garage. He almost takes you in the elevator when it feels like time stretches the closer you get to his floor. He almost takes you right against his front door as you play with his belt buckle and nip at his neck while he fumbles to open the lock.
And then back in seclusion again, back home, he can have you finally...
 Jungkook drops you onto soft sheets, crawling over you. 
"I want to tie you up." It is a special day.
"Okay."
"Yeah?" he smiles cutely, or perhaps deviously, it's so hard to tell sometimes with your boyfriend.
"Yeah," you kiss him, "Happy Anniversary." You kiss him again. "Please, tie me up, Jungkook," you whisper in his ear.
"Fuck." Jungkook has been practicing his knots, and he decides he wants your hands behind your back, one of your legs tied to his headboard. He secures a knot under your knee, spreading your legs.
Perfect. You're perfect. You were perfect tonight, the way your eyes sparkled during your date with him, perfect when you cheekily teased him and that sparkle turned mischievous, and now you're so perfect as you look at him shyly, your eyes shining in anticipation at what he's going to do next to you. 
Jungkook can't wait to make those eyes cry in pure bliss tonight.
He kept the expensive lingerie you wore tonight for him on. He pushes your panties to the side so he can run his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness to push back into you. You're so wet for him, already soaking from the night's previous activities.
"How's it feel, you okay?" he asks, "Nothing too tight?"
"No," you mewl out, squirming against his knots.
"Ugh, Noona...you’re so fucking wet," he grunts, quickening his pace as he watches his fingers disappear inside you. He presses down on your untied thigh to hold you still and hooks his fingers inside you, pads prodding around until you arch your back, responding to his stroking of you.
When your boyfriend sets his mind on something, there's nothing that can stop him, and Jungkook's decided he is going to make you fall apart, put you back together, mold you for him.
He strokes you with his fingers until your thighs are shaking. You grip onto your bindings, let the rope around your fingers ground you as you tighten your hold and clench down on Jungkook's digits. 
"Ahh that's it, look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty. You're my fucking girl, all fucking mine."
"Oh, Jungkook." You're so close, it's building, tickling and deep and so overpowering, letting go is the only thing your body can do now. You spasm around Jungkook's digits, so tight around his fingers they finally stop their unrelenting movement. He pulls down the cup of your bra to massage your breasts until you fully relax and your harsh breathing becomes only soft pants.
You're tired but you open your mouth wide and invite him in when Jungkook crawls higher, positioning his throbbing cock against your lips. He slides his length over your tongue and down your throat until you're choking, gagging. And he fucks your mouth again and again, until you're sloppy, crying from his thickness, at how tight it feels, at how good it feels to see his brows furrow and his tongue play with the ring on his lower lip as he watches you choke down his length.
"You like that? You like being treated like a slut, yeah?" You whimper against his cock, thick and hot on your tongue. "My dirty little slut."
He grunts out louder, fucking your throat faster, deeper. Your high pitched whimpers match his moaning, becoming louder and more protracted, until he stills, his hips stuttering, and you start to feel his hot cum pool in your mouth. Jungkook slumps down against you, lying his head on your stomach.
You let his juices flow out of your lips and down your chin as you take in breaths. You're so warm and soft between your legs, everything about you is soft, your skin, the curves of your body, and he enjoys grabbing at you, holding you in his arms. Your slick is covering your pussy, and Jungkook starts his ministrations again, fingers deep in your sex.
"Noona, you look so sexy." You look down at your handsome boyfriend, smiling in between your legs. You feel so vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to shy away from his gaze, but the fluttering inside you jumps to your heart when Jungkook smiles and mouths 'I love you.'
He fingers you skillfully, and you don't even realize how close you were until you're coming again, body programmed to give Jungkook what he craves. He continues to play with your pussy, stroking against your sensitive walls. It becomes too much, inescapable pleasure, burning you from the inside out. The sounds of sex fills his quiet bedroom, the noise of your slick, your whimpering, your cries. He closes his eyes and revels in it, taking in your sweet sounds and the smell of you.
The pressure is too much, "I can't, no more," you whine. 
"I'm not done. Be a a good girl for me, Noona." You clench around him, at his words spoken so heatedly yet so softly.
"No- m-more," you cry out.
"I said I'm not done, understand?"
You shudder, writhing under him, your bindings pulling tight around your limbs. He replaces his fingers with his cock. You clench around him tighter as suctions his lips to your nipple, sucking harshly, thumb pressing against your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good. I could fuck you every day." He finds your tied wrists, interlacing his fingers in yours, rocking his hips into your core so deep the pleasure blinds you.
You breathe through your teeth, limbs locked at the pleasure inflicted across your body. 
You cum in silent ecstasy, drenching his cock in your juices. Jungkook's release follows you almost immediately, "Yes —ah— yes." His breathy words echo in your ears, every other thought lost in his presence.
Jungkook finishes and quickly unties you, pulling you into his embrace. "Let's go shower?"
"I think...a bath...my legs," you pant.
Jungkook kisses you sweetly and nods, lifting you in his arms.
You sigh and rest against him. You feel secure and safe with Jungkook, in his strong embrace, the way he holds you easily, you know he's got you and he'll never let anything happen to you. It's probably why you let him get away with so much, because he always takes care of your needs in the end, makes you feel loved like no other.
You gently kiss his neck, cuddled against him as his large tub fills with water.
The filling bathtub makes it easier on your tired limbs and you turn around, straddling your boyfriend.
"Mmm," Jungkook smiles against your lips as you place a series of quick kisses against his mouth. "Just relax, Noona."
"What? You don't want to?" you giggle.
"I just want to relax with you."
"Well maybe I don't want to take no for an answer," you tease.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm," you sigh, letting your body slump into him more.
"I don't think I can go another round tonight," he laughs.
"Really, you sure you're okay?"
"Ahh maybe I'm getting old too."
"TOO?"
Jungkook laughs and hugs your tightly, tickling you before you anger becomes too palpable.
"I love you."
"I love you too, old man."
---
Let me know your favorite day :3
2K notes · View notes
absolberts251 · 6 months
Text
Dear Il Dottore,
I love you so much it cannot be contained into words. Even this letter is but a mere fraction of my affection. But I hope it gets the point across!
Every night when I cannot sleep and you're busy with work I imagine you laying next to me, your warm arms feel so real. I imagine you giving me snuggles and kisses. Even if in reality it is a mere delusion, it makes me happy. I care not if it is hurtful to me to love you so much, the happiness I feel with you by my side is something I will never forget nor change. Your existence brings me motivation and strength; something I find slipping from my grasp everyday without you.
In the early hours of the day I love it when I eat with you, even if it is a mere scrap or another tub of ice cream. Having you there with me is comforting. I know i'll never be alone because I have you with me! and i'm here for you as well! No matter what i'll always be here for you! 💕💕💕💕💕 I will be here to make you happy!! 💕
I love it when you tell me about how the serum you injected into patient 67 was a success or how you figured out what the missing component was to a machine. I love you so much Dottore!!!!!!! I feel like crying when you arent with me, even writing this im getting so emotional im.not evem joking.
AAhhhhh I just love you so much !!! I love you eyes, your face, your hair, your wardrobe, your ideals, your inspirations, your smile, and your EVERYTHING!!!! I just love you so much <3 WHENEVER I LOOK AT YOU I GET SO OVERWHELMED !!! I have to scratch and claw at my bed to calm myself down !!!
I love you so much I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU DOTTORE!!!!!!!!!!
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I remember you were so happy when I suprised you with that cheesecake for your birthday. You picked me up and gave me so many kisses!! I was so happy. And then for my birthday you made me a giant killing machine 😊 It was the best birthday present EVER!!!!!!!! I still love to snuggle with it!. I even got it a cute pink bow so it could match with you! It's so cute!! (but you're cuter~)
I love all the segments if it wasn't already obvious too!! Even if you cringe at things you did when you were younger, which is pretty funny :3 I love our son babyttore who gets rocks thrown at him!!! I love playing lps with him (he likes pulling them apart but its ok because he puts them back together afterwards) I love snuggling with you and all the segments!!!! 💖💖 YIPPE !!! *jumps around joyfully* I LOVE U DOTTORE!!!
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*BEAMS MY AFFECTION DIRECTLY INTO YOUR HEART* *BEAMS MY AFFECTION DIRECTLY INTO YOUR HEART* *BEAMS MY AFFECTION DIRECTLY INTO YOUR HEART* *BEAMS MY AFFECTION DIRECTLY INTO YOUR HEART*
I love you dottore!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you are so silly...... you are silly man :] 💕☺️ I love big spooning because it means I get to feel your soft hair!!!!!! YAY!! I LOVE YOU DOTTORE... You mean so much to me!! YOU ARE SUCH AN AMAZING MAN!!!! A BEAUTIFUL MAN!!! YOU ARE SO ADORABLE AND CUTE!!! I JUST WANT TO SMOTHER YOUR FACE WITH KISSES!!!!! AND I WANT TO HUG YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!!! you hold such a special place in my heart, all my thoughts lead to you. I see you EVERYWHERE!!!! I hear you EVERYWHERE!!! I'm so in love with you Dottore!!!
My dreams, which used to be empty now have you in them, whenever I close my eyes I see you there smiling at me. I love you! you are my everything in life, my sweetie pookie bear kitten. I love being with you every day 💕 you make every day worth it!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U DOTTORE!!!!!! i love you :3 you are so smart and pretty, you're the prettiest man EVER!!!!!!!!! and I love you!!!!!!!!!!! :]
When im sad I think of you and my day immediately gets better! You bring me so much joy ! you make every day my best day! I love listening to you ramble about your experiments and theories! and I love seeing you happy.
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I love kissing you!!! seeing you cute face blush whenever I kiss you makes it so worthwile! I know you think that you don't deserve it, but I will always be here to remind you otherwise! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU DOTTORE!!!! 💖💖💖💖
I have some other things i'd love to say too but... *giggles* ehe! not here *blushes* thats for private ;) giggles :3 lets just say!! I wanna make whoopie with your cushions! 💖💖💖💖💖💖 *blushes madly* hehehe..... >//////< got a bit too carried away there sorry sweetcheeks <3 lets get back to the more sfw stuff~
You have such a beautiful smile that it rivals the world. Your eyes are like a sunset and your hair is the blue sky. Your smile shines like the clouds which litter the sky and the stars that scatter at night. You're my favorite view. You light up my world.
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Even if others throw rocks are you I wont!!!!!! I will shield you from those rocks and bear the pain. I will protect you my princess! I will save you from the evil tower!!! and then I will kiss you 💕 I will give your face kisses.... and then I will kiss your lips!!!! 😊😊😊😊
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A world without you feels so far away, the thought of you vanishing is one that brings me pain. I would rather bear the heat of a thousand suns than think of leaving you, my beloved sopping wet beast. I'll stand by your side no matter what!!!!!!!!!!! because I LOVE YOU!
You're so smart and determined that it inspires me to be my best self everyday!!! to not let others bring me down! You bring out the best in me and I bring out the best in you 💖 we bring out the best in each other!!!! We fit together like puzzle pieces 💕 Whenever i'm with you i feel like im drowning in a sea of love and affection, a blue abyss of serotonin 🥰
Your eyes are the same color as that which keeps my body alive, maybe this is why I always find myself getting lost in them. Whenever I think of you my chest feels like its going to explode! my love for you is so strong. Your happiness is my happiness, Dottore 💕 I love your eyes so much!!! they are so beautiful and I love how you get flustered when I compliment them ☺️ you're just so cute when you blush!!! It makes me want to kiss you all over! ♡
The warmth of your body when we snuggle is a comfort I love experiencing every day!! I used to have a hard time sleeping but with you I don't! The love of your embrace never fails to lull to me dreamland at night 🥰🥰 I LOVE YOU DOTTORE!!! I LOVE YOU!!!
You bring me so much happiness, I can't even imagine a world without you!! I would probably be withering in the corner of my room like a dead fly in a fridge (reference to the dead fly that was in my fridge). I would have been turned into tiny little mold particles!! but IM NOT BECAUSE YOU'RE IN MY LIFE!!! :DDD
Ill fight the heavens to save you. ILL PROTECT YOU MY SNUGGLE BEAR!!!!!!!!! I love you so much. Even writing this I feel my cheeks heating up! 😊 and when I hear your voice I feel butterflies in my tummy !!!!! i love you so much 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕😊☺️😊😊
I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOBE YOU I LOVE YOU 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
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Ahhh! so joyous!!
Love, Absol ♡
787 notes · View notes
hiraya-rawr · 1 year
Text
maybe we can be more than this (servant/master)
characters !! diluc, ayato
contains !! just dialogues of gn reader. angst/comfort?? i think
synopsis !! thinking about servant and master where it's so obvious you're both in love but you can't bring yourself to cross the line and it hurts him sm—
+ + +
D I L U C
He's frustrated, pacing around as you desperately try to explain.
"Master Diluc, you must understand why–"
"Just Diluc."
"But Master Diluc–"
"How many times must I tell you, (Name)?" He turns towards you, a scowl on his lips as his voice rises. He breathes heavily before his shoulders lower, relaxing, and his face changes to that of hurt.
A quiet heartache.
"How many times must I hear you call me that? We've been friends for so long. I've loved you for so long. Can't I be more than just that to you. . .?" He looks down on the ground, unable to meet your gaze.
You feel your lips part, heart aching. How could you dare?
". . . Diluc," You whisper and his eyes snap towards you, hopeful, as your hand makes its way to cup his cheek, "You are already more than just that to me."
"Then allow me to be with you." He begs quietly.
"You know why I can't." You sob, feeling his own warm hands cupping your cheeks.
"Please, (Name)."
"Don't."
"Please,"
". . . I have to go help Adelinde turn off the gas lamps. Please get some rest, Master Diluc."
+ + +
A Y A T O
"Look at this, (Name)," He states harshly, stomping into his office as you trail behind, helplessly explaining, "Look."
Ayato roughly gestures to the pile of papers on his desk. Each in beautiful stationery, stamped cleanly.
"Marriage proposals. Each and everyone of them, I've rejected. I did this for us." He turns to you, a look of hurt in his eyes.
"Lord Kamisato, you know why–"
"You didn't use to call me that. I was Ayato. I was-"
"-That was when the Kamisato household was falling apart! It's different now and you know that-!" You cut in.
"It is different! Now the Kamisato household has the power and influence. If you marry me, I will take down every obstacle in our way."
Silence. He stares at you from across the dark office, only moonlight filtering in to highlight his baby blue hair. You know he's desperate, having danced around the topic for ages, but how could you be the clan's weakness? You can see how everyone would talk— how history would talk about it.
'Such a fine bachelor yet he chose a mere servant. Is there something wrong with the clan?'
'He was seduced. Held down by a childhood friend. You can't even trust a servant.'
'The clan had only recently gained its influence, yet it's falling apart again, all because of some—'
"Ayato," You try to hold back tears. You know it's unfair to him if you use this card. "If you love me, then please— don't make me do this to the clan. Don't make me do this to you."
He looks defeated. Shoulders slumped, tired, as he brings up a hand to rest on his forehead. Looking away from you, he sighs, "Had I known it would be like this, I never would have taken you in as my servant."
character m.list || ko-fi
note !! nothing hits differently than men with everything except the love of their life *shrugs* anyway my links have been weird lately idk why so hopefully this story posts without issues
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sp4ceboo · 6 months
Note
NO NEED FOR ME TO HIDE🙏🏾🙏🏾
Bestie, are you going to continue Atonement universe?🥺 I am very curious on how their interactions could look like in the future, now that they have an accurate understanding of their intents
A/N: U ASKED JUST THE RIGHT QUESTION MY FAVOURITE BUNNY, but bc im evil i've made this into a bunch of feyd headcanons even tho no one asked
tw: 18+, smut headcanons (switch feyd ladies and gents), cannibalism (by the harpies), i dropkick everyone with feyd's trauma, therefore mentions of sa and pedophilia (fuck you vladimir), 'who did this to you' because man if that's not one of the yummiest things ever, nightmares, children and pregnancy, also sterility, swearing somewhere probably,
wc: 2.3k
part 1 (this can be read as a stand alone, it's just feyd headcanons)
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feyd does everything he can to make up for how he treated you in the first months of your marriage
you assure him that it's fine, that he doesn't have to beat himself up over what he has done, but you still notice the pain in his eyes when he looks at you
he hovers close to you at all times, keeping a hand at the small of your back or pulling you close into his side
it's a strange process, only getting to know your husband in the fourth month of your marriage, but it's a process that you treasure
you'll ask him silly things from his favourite food to his opinions on the carvings on the table over there whenever the questions occur to you
it's late at night, while he's gently cleaning you up after sex or holding you tightly in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, when he tells you the deeper, more painful things
the grief in his voice is so raw as he describes to you how his uncle pitted him and rabban against each other from a young age, how his childhood was stolen from him - you ache for him, for the things that were taken from him before he could even fight for them
you find out about his nightmares soon after that - not because he tells you, but because one happens
you suspect there was something he wasn't quite ready to tell you, but you didn't press; no hands have handled feyd's heart the way he lets you, and you're determined to honour that privilege
a storm howls outside, and you think that the rumbles of thunder were what woke you
you turn over and realise it's feyd, his features contorted with fear even in his sleep, eyes rolling under the lids as he trembles, broken pleas leaving his lips
all you catch is a 'don't' and a 'please, uncle'
something cold slithers down your spine
touching his face, you grab his shoulder, shaking him, whispering his name, trying to wake him gently
a tear leaks down his cheek, and a meek sound leaves him, ripping your heart in two - you need to wake him up, free him from this dream
'feyd.'
his eyes snap open, and in them, you clearly see the expression of a trapped, cornered animal
you say his name again, and he looks at you sharply, unseeing
he's awake and yet somehow he's still trapped in the nightmare; he wraps his hands around your throat, and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms in an effort to wake him up
with precious air, you rasp out his name again, and he blinks, slowly gaining consciousness
his face crumples when he finds his hands around your neck
distress limns his features as he backs away from you, shaking his head, horrified by his own doing
your head spins with lack of air but you reach out to him, refusing to let him slip away - you snare him in your arms, hold him tightly, kiss his face
he doesn't move, afraid to hurt you
you pull back to stare him in the eyes
'i'm okay. i am okay. you hear me, feyd? i'm fine. i'm not hurt.'
he buries his face in your shoulder and when you feel hot tears on your skin, rage simmers and seethes, wrathful in your chest
'who did this to you?'
your voice is dripping with fury; he shakes with a sob, and you run your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him and the anger inside you
eventually, he calms, and you tilt his face up, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks, waiting
he holds out his arms again, and you oblige him, letting him hide his face in your shoulder as he tells you the substances of his nightmares - memories of the baron, eyes rabid, hands reaching, and it makes you tremble with rage
you crush feyd in your grip, and he clings onto you, his eyes wet, letting you anchor his drowning spirit
the two of you fall asleep twined together, feyd cradled in your embrace
in the morning, you cup his face in your hands and tell him that you will protect him, fight for him, love him until your blood stills in your veins
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one of the first thing feyd does is dismiss his harpies from their duties
originally, he was going to get rid of them permanently, but you convinced him not to, telling him you wanted to meet them
to be honest, feyd didn't really understand (he thought you wanted to 'use' them for a bit and was kind of taken aback until you reassured him you just wanted to talk to them)
he stayed in the room anyways, knowing that his harpies could be jealous, but he had nothing to fear
all you do is chat to them, and in the same way you charmed him, you charm them
feyd marvels at the way you reach out to them and connect with them with so much ease, laughing and joking with them, complimenting their pretty eyes and tattoos as if they are your long time friends
from then on, they are no longer feyd's harpies, but yours
they accompany you around the palace and sometimes to court
the latter causes quite a stir; none of the nobles can make sense of why the na-baron's feral cannibal troupe are now dressed in fine clothing and following the na-baronness around
you enjoy their company - they brighten your day considerably, and are not afraid to make remarks a little too loudly in front of nobles
you have to hide your laughter when one of them comments on the scruffy facial hair of the duke addressing feyd, even more so when he stares at them wide eyed, a little fearful of them
in a way, they protect you and you protect them
if a noble approaches you with disrespect, they'll joke loudly among themselves about the taste of his flesh
in the same way, if someone makes a snide remark of their presence, you're quick to challenge it
the perplexed look on feyd's face amuses you to no end when he realises they prefer you now
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feyd and the harpies teach you about harkonnen culture
feyd especially tells you stories about how he hunted on forests long cut down when he was a boy, and you love to listen to him, watching his face and drinking in the softer, nostalgic tone in his voice
he shows himself to you in little ways
feyd complains to you about the nobles in the court, how he hates their decorum and their entitlement
he talks to you for hours about different fighting forms, occasionally getting up to demonstrate them to you, and you marvel at the accuracy and fluidity of his movements
he takes you to his favourite parts of giedi prime, shows you the volcanoes and the less polluted parts of the capital city
he tells you the story of every scar on his body, and you find yourself captivated by the look in his eyes as he recalls a good fight
he whispers on your skin promises - promises of love, sweet on his tongue but never cloying, always true
in turn he asks you about your old life, about your home planet and your family
you answer happily, loving the way his eyes follow you, their blue tone becoming your favourite colour
you tell him about the time you visited to see him fight, how you saw the fire within him even then, and he chuckles, enthralled by the idea that even when the two of you were too young to really comprehend what your arranged marriage meant, you were still drawn to each other
he tells you how when he raised his knife, victorious, he spotted you in the crowd - a small girl, her back ram rod straight - and thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on
not that you seemed breakable to him; no, he thought you were formidable, too, not even bothering to hide your frown in an arena of cheering, happy faces
it felt right that he would marry a woman who wasn't afraid of him
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feyd teaches you how to fight
he delights in the way you grow so bold with him, delivering snarky remarks if he teases you, rising to meet everything he throws at you
you're a good fighter - unpredictable in your moves - and he's immeasurably proud that he was the one who taught you
sometimes, once you're good enough to duel, you'll end up staggering to the nearest somewhat secluded area to fuck
now that you know you're not alone, you're so confident of yourself, confident in the electrifying look in your eyes and confident in the way you make him beg
feyd never thought he'd like to give up control, but with you it's addicting
he trusts you
he lets you ravage him, lets you use him until he's spent, panting, thighs shaking, knowing that you would let him do the same - knowing that you do let him do the same
there's something so raw about letting himself go in your touch
his head spins when you tie him up, your deft fingers checking the knots and tightening the bindings across his torso, making art with his skin as the canvas
feyd is addicted to you in every aspect
he can't get enough of your pussy; he'd spend hours between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make
he thinks that the closest he's ever come to heaven is when he's buried balls deep in your cunt while you beg him harder, faster
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A/N: i couldn't choose between these two scenarios so have both
EITHER after almost a year, you begin to wonder why you haven't pregnant
especially with the way feyd fucks you
so you seek the help of a doctor - the test results come back a week after, accusatory, damning
you're sterile
your first reaction is to tell feyd, but once you find yourself face to face with him, his gaze concerned as he holds your waist, you can't tell him
you just fall into his arms, staying your tears, doubts crawling into your skull and gnawing at the edges of your mind
you can't give him an heir
there's no way around it
what if he takes a concubine? what if he realises you serve no purpose to him? what if he stops loving you?
feyd doesn't pry about the tests results until the next day when he finds you in the shower, hands trembling and head bowed
he tips your chin up so he can look you in the eye
'tell me what troubles you, my love.'
so you do, with his fingers curled around your waist, the shower water running over your skin
he kisses you once you finish, and it tears at his heart the way you're looking up at him, trying to hide the worry in your eyes as you wait for his reply
feyd doesn't mince his words when he tells you that he doesn't care if you cannot give him an heir, that all he asks of you is to let him love you - it's then that the tears fall, and he kisses them away, holding you close to him
you grieve for the children you can never have, but feyd remains by you, almost supernatural with the way he senses your pain
your gaze might fall upon one of the servant's children, causing an ache in your heart, and within a few seconds his fingers will twine with yours and he'll tuck you into his side, kissing your hair
OR you have twins: one girl, one boy
the girl is three minutes older than the boy
feyd is obssessed with your pregnant body; he always has his hands on you in some way
he gets more protective, if that's possible
sometimes he lies between your thighs, his palms spread over your stomach as he talks to the two of them, and the softness and wonder in his eyes brings a warmth to your chest
feyd is with you when you feel the first contraction and promptly carries you to the midwives
he lets you crush his hand in your grip as you give birth to the lives you've made together, wiping the sweat off your forehead and quietly encouraging you
the first time you hand them to him to hold, he's hesitant, hands fluttering over you as he figures out what to do, but he's a fast learner
there's a fierce protective glint in his eyes when he cradles them in his arms, one that you glimpse when he looks at you too, and within it there's a deep, pure joy
he teaches them how to fight, and yet he's still so gentle with them, laughing as they giggle and cling to him, one latched onto each leg
the girl is how you'd imagine feyd was as a boy: half feral, yet charming when she wants to be, while the boy is a little calmer, more unflappable, and happy to entertain his sister's mischievous endeavours
both love the harpies, and there have been multiple times when you walk in on the twins gaping wide eyed at the harpies as they regale them with old tales
sometimes, feyd will scoop them up, one in each arm, so they can reach up and give you a little kiss on the cheek before he pecks your lips
you think it's beautiful, the family that you've made with him
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feyd loves the way you look at him, with that mischief in your eyes, as if you're sharing a secret with him
he loves your sweet laughter, the softness in your hands when you touch him and how you don't shy away from protecting him, defiant even in his uncle's presence
he knows he would kill for you, die for you - he'd do anything for you
you would do the same: it makes feyd's head fuzzy, when you get so fiercely protective over him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you glare at the baron, lacing your words with venom when you address him
you'd stop at nothing, just to protect his honour
when you're after something, nothing stands in your way, and yet you can handle him with such soft, gentle hands, banishing his nightmares with the light tracing of your fingertips on his back
feyd heals in your presence, and you grow in his
your love is eternal
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urfriendlywriter · 2 years
Text
prompts for your characters having a crush:
(no because 9, 16, 20, 21-- I'D KILL FOR IT TO HAPPEN TO ME :') (feel free to usee and tag me when yall writeeee :) )
tries to deny it. tries to undo it.
"yo, you seem to like [name]?" "SHH, WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT SO LOUDLY??"
they're having a crush on you and they offer to help you a lot!
"you know I'm always there for you, right? :)"
that 0.001 second of eye contact when they catch you staring at them. WHAT YOU DIDNT NOTICE WAS THEIR SMILE AFTER!!! (which means they've a crush on u too dumb bitc- CHILE ANYWAYSSS)
bumping into each other in the hallways
slightest of physical contact and it sends you reeling into another universe
them being so oblivious and continuing to do all the adorable things they do
OR they know what they're doing because they fell for you first. like leaning over you to hear you better, cupping your face to take a fallen eyelash!!! OR patting your head often :))
hugging and hearing their heart beat rise
thinking they have a contagious laugh
them trying to confess to you but you're so oblivious it hurts!!
"[name], what do you think of us?" "us?" "you and me, us, love."
avoiding them to stop your feelings from growing further
"you've been avoiding me." "someone's got a braincell."
"we're not like how we used to be, [name]." "my bad for catching feelings. don't worry I'll get rid of it-" and they get kissedddd "took you so long to confess, love :)"
craning your neck to see if they're there (bonus points if they're already looking at you)
having a good laugh together!
walking home together and your hands graze e/o's
^ and they slowly take YOUR HAND IN THEIRSSS W RIZZ FR
"he is sick so i spent the night in his.." ".... YOU ARE CRAZY WHAT DID YOU DO?? ARE YOU IN LOVE [NAME]??"
"you have pretty eyes." "oh? oh. i- thank you? °\\°"
feeling tingly around them.
using codenames when talking about them with your friends!
"hey, are you sure your crush on 'pineapple' is one sided?? they look at you with a twinkle in their eyes."
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hoshiina · 2 months
Text
pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
request: hiii idk if u take these kinds of requests but id like to see jealous reader (preferably if reader and hoshina are already in an established relationship and reader works in a different division, meaning they dont get to see each other much) like maybe he’s used to calling okonogi “my dear” and its the first reader heard him call anyone with a pet name like that and she starts to overthink and gets pouty/ sulky and hoshina doesnt notice it at first but when he does he starts teasing her which doesnt help HAHAHAHA if its ok can it be hurt/ comfort and end in fluff & HELLO!! can i request an angst to fluff with hoshina where reader thinks he likes okonogi more than him especially since he is against revealing him n reader’s relationship to the third division (for other reasons of course). hopefully this isnt too specific!! i hope u have a wonderful day:))
notes: hoshina calls the reader “darling”, hurt comfort, him accepting jealousy a valid emotion (very important to me i fear), so sorry i merged the reqs!! i hope this was satisfactory for both TY FOR THE REQ!, this is a twt thread i thought about while writing this, (l/n) mention in the bonus part
wc: 1400
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Oh, you hated when this happened. You hated when your heart started to tighten in this horrible way you knew well. You hated being jealous.
You hated how self centered it made you feel and how it ate away at your thoughts and feelings. It made you feel like your good thoughts were disintegrating to horrible ones. However, what you hated even more was how it meant you were doubting his love for you— and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to doubt him, nor did you doubt him, but when the jealousy got to your head it was over. You were stuck in a loop.
To top it off, the cause of this all was truly harmless and hardly that big of a deal, but that's usually how most anxious thoughts start. They start little.
You were called to visit the 3rd Division to help with research on a field you were particularly knowledgeable on, and you happened to hear Hoshina's laughter from the operation room, so you went in to take a peek.
“It was not that funny,” Okonogi was saying to him, but Hoshina only continued to laugh.
“Yes, it definitely was,” he laughed. “I knew Kafka would forget about that hole in the training grounds again.”
“Why don't you remind him, then?”
“Comedic relief, of course.”
“Alright then.”
“Okonogi dear, you're no fun,” he said.
They said a few more things, but you couldn't seem to focus on their words. ‘Dear’? Was that merely a simple pet name? Or was there more to them than you initially expected?
Oh, the worries started to fill your head. And they were things you didn't want to be worried about— Okonogi was always so sweet to you when you popped by and you knew Hoshina loved you. The last thing you wished to do was doubt them, nor did you want to make things awkward around them. There were just so many things that you just didn't know about, being in a different division as him. You doubted they even knew you were dating, and the voice in your head would only get louder.
It was then that Hoshina saw you at the doorway and called over to you.
“Are you done with work?” he asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Your heart stung.
“Not quite yet,” you tried to sound disappointed, but for the right reason. “I’ll get going now.”
You walked away from the room as quickly as you could, seemingly naturally. You didn't want to be there and you didn't want to talk to him before calming down first— you were sure you'd say something silly if you spoke now.
Yet, immediately you heard footsteps behind you and a hand you knew well grab yours.
“Soushirou?” you asked, turning to look behind you.
“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and visible concern in his eyes. “Do you feel unwell?”
Pang in your chest again.
“Not at all, nothing's wrong?” you said, but you could see the way he pursued his lips— the hurt in his eyes from how you wouldn't tell him what was troubling you. Gosh, why did you feel this way? Why must you feel much silly emotions.
“It's truly so stupid,” you said. “I'll tell you another time.”
“Alright,” he said, letting go of your hand. That one was your bad— you knew he wouldn't push you any further, even if he wanted to.
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Dinner that night was awkward. You weren't even that jealous, but the fact that you felt something was gnawing at your brain upset you. Not to mention the fact that you were keeping something from him made you feel even worse.
“How was your training?” you asked.
“Alright, I suppose,” he said. There was a horrible moment of silence. You weren’t sure what to say.
“I think I’m getting a hang of this new technique,” he finally continued, but you wouldn’t look up at him— you were afraid he wouldn’t look your way.
“I see,” you said. “That’s really cool… I’d like to see someday.”
“I’ll show you as soon as its better,” he said.
The rest of dinner felt… quiet. The two of you still talked throughout it but it was terribly different from the usual lively catch-up you’d have— it was heart-wrenching quite frankly.
So as you’d imagine, going to sleep was even worse. You subconsciously faced away from him and pretended to fall asleep quickly, hoping he’d sleep soon too. You hated what was going on, but you just couldn’t bring this up. You knew it was silly and you knew you’d forget soon enough. You’d probably regret making such a big deal out of it.
“Darling,” he said, and immediately you turned to face him. He was already facing you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it… I’m sorry I pushed you.”
Gosh, you thought. You gulped. You wished he wasn’t so kind.
“You’re going to think I’m so annoying though,” you said, voice cracking in a way you didn’t wish for it to and immediately his eyes widened.
“Darling, what happened?” he asked, suddenly worried. “You could never be annoying to me.”
“I… heard you…” you started and he just listened— he waited. “I heard you calling Okonogi, ‘dear.’ And suddenly I—”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, without hesitation. “I hadn’t even realized I did that, it was completely by habit. I won’t anymore.”
You finally met his eyes and the way he looked so horrified he had made you feel bad was so prominent in his eyes.
“No, Soushirou,” you said. “I didn’t mean for you to have to change anything— I know so well that both of you are so sweet to me and there’s nothing going on. I just—”
“Darling, calm down,” he said, cutting you off. “You’ve done nothing wrong, why are you beating yourself up? This was my bad and that’s about it. None of this is you.”
“I—,” you said, taking a moment to collect yourself. “I hate to be jealous, Soushirou. I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” he asked and you paused to look up at him, utterly confused.
“Why?” he asked again.
“It’s such an… ugly feeling,” you said.
“Is it?”
“Is it… not?”
“What’s wrong with being jealous?”
“Because it’s like I’m doubting you or something… when I don’t at all.”
“I think that’s a different thing entirely, no?” he asked. “You can know in your head that I’m in love with you and still feel something else— they’re not always the same. A little jealousy is perfectly healthy, I think.”
“Oh…” you said. You wanted to say so much more but there was so much to process first. Your heart swelled with such warmth.
“I get jealous too. I hate when Narumi gets too close to you or bothers you when I’m not around,” he continued on. “But in my head I know you’d never do anything to hurt me and you’d stop him if he crosses a line. I’ll try to stop if that bothers you though.”
“No,” you said. “That sounds… nice. I’m rather… happy… you were a jealous actually. But I’ll make sure to keep some more distance between Captain Narumi next time.”
He laughed. “Sounds good. But you tell me if there’s anything more that bothers you okay. I’ll fix myself up.”
“I will,” you said and he kissed your forehead. “But Soushirou, I don’t mind much anymore. You can stay the way you are.”
“No, no, stop overthinking. You need to sleep now, you have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Yeah. You too Sou,” you said and he hummed.
Once you were certain he was asleep, you kissed his cheek and slipped your hand into his. You liked holding his hand when you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if it made it harder for him to fall asleep.
“Thank you,” you whispered to him. “You mean the world to me.”
You lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him up, but to your surprised he smiled. He squeezed your hand and without opening his eyes, “You missed,” he said.
He kissed you on the lips and you laughed, snuggling up against him. “You were awake.”
“I was waiting for you to hold my hand,” he said. “I like when we hold hands when we sleep.”
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BONUS:
From then on, Hoshina stopped calling Okonogi “dear” as much, and it’d only happen when it truly slipped out of him from force of habit.
“Vice-Captain, you’ve started dating (l/n), haven’t you?” she said to him one day while they were sorting through files.
“How... did you know?” he asked. The two of you had been dating for quite a while now, but he was more surprised she guessed you correctly.
“It’s terribly obvious you’re completely in love,” she said.
He blinked. And then he laughed. 
He’d have to ask you that night if he can share the news with everyone, properly, then.
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annievrse · 6 months
Text
chapstick & cherry blossoms
dazai x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: mention of suicide (it's dazai what do u expect) a/n: inspired by that one wan! ep where atsushi and dazai's convo literally broke my heart into a million pieces and i was left writhing in pain on the floor :)
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“Hey, what flavour is your chapstick?” You ask Dazai, who lays his head in your lap. The breeze is passing through the cherry blossom tree above you, and the rustling of the flowers is a welcome distraction from the stress of a day at the agency.
“Why? So you can tell me it's the one you poisoned?”
“No,” You giggle, covering his eyes with your hand and looking up at the flowers. “I just liked the taste when you kissed me.”
Turning your attention back to him, Dazai's cheeks flush pink, which rarely happens, making your chest hurt. He pulls your palm off his face and brings your knuckles to his lips.
"If you did poison it, I think it would be a perfect way to go," Dazai mumbles into your skin. "Your lips on mine and a hundred cherry blossoms raining down on us."
You almost roll your eyes at his cheesy line, but the ache in your sternum grows after you process his words. "I'd prefer you didn't go at all."
Your soft confession makes Dazai's heart skip a beat, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He's speechless for the first time in a while, and he can barely believe you've just expressed such vulnerability. He only wishes he could, too.
Instead of replying, Dazai shakes his head softly, turning his head away to peer at the park before you. His lack of eye contact doesn't irk you; you know he finds it hard to face intimacy, especially when you're not afraid to voice your thoughts.
"You have to stop doing that."
You barely hear him. "Doing what?"
The park falls silent, and it's like the universe is waiting for his answer alongside you.
"Making me feel human," Dazai sits up, his hair falling over his eyes. The silence rings in your ears as you stare at him.
"Osamu, look at me," You reach for his hand that lays limply by his side.
The man, whose personality is sometimes comparable to that of a child, shakes his head and tucks his hands into his coat pockets. The action draws a laugh from you and a smile from him. "Don't wanna."
Your head falls to the side, contemplating him. "Please?"
Dazai rolls his eyes dramatically and turns his head toward you, lips pouting.
You pinch his cheek between your thumb and forefinger, causing his face to warm. "I'm serious, 'Samu. You're so special to me, I really don't know what I'd do without you."
"Pish," Dazai mutters with an upturn of his lips, though you can see unguarded pain and bashfulness in his gaze. Ignoring your previous statement, Dazai lays back down, his head returning to your lap. Closing his eyes, you notice he's still tense.
You push the brown locks off his forehead and lean down to kiss the crease between his eyebrows. With your hand resting on the side of his face, your thumb brushes his cheekbone, admiring the flutter of his eyelashes against his skin.
"I live to make you feel human," You whisper, feeling warm, wet streaks run over the back of your hand.
And then the sounds of the world come rushing back. The cherry blossom tree has stopped swaying, yet the pink petals still delicately fall to meet you on the floor.
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redr0sewrites · 6 months
Note
omg lowkey having a shitass day and i’m too tired to write for my comfort character and your my fav so 😭😭 literally just any fluffy vox headcanons. literally any! could be only one paragraph IDC i just think it’s so cute how you write him 🙏🙏
OFCCCC!!!!! heres some hcs ab vox comforting u after a long day ♥️
🥀 Cw: none, just fluff!
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vox is no stranger to long, tiring days. he's had his fair share of shitty work days and when he comes home to see you exhausted, he immediately notices what's wrong.
vox is very goofy, he's good at reading people and can immediately know if someone's upset, but it's how he reacts that throws him off. like he'll notice something is wrong but won't know how to respond.
he's so used to manipulating people (such as valentino) or just shoving down his own emotions to put on a persona that he isn't great at verbally comforting someone, but his actions make up for it.
he pulls you onto his lap and will run his hand up and down your back to soothe you. while his claws are sharp, he would never hurt you with them, and its much more of a ticklish sensation then anything
speaking of, vox loves it when you laugh. if you're pissed at someone in particular, he will definitely make fun of them to help cheer you up. don't be surprised if they "disappear".... he is an overlord after all. he'd only do this if you want him too tho
vox claims he isn't insecure, but in reality he knows exactly how it feels to feel shitty about everything around you. he's surprisingly empathetic, if you're in a relationship with him he definitely cares about you a lot and i genuinely see him being upset in the situation that you're upset
if you cry, vox may be a little awkward but will go to get you a glass of water. he'll also dim the light of his screen to make sure he doesn't give you a headache and, if you're really upset or tired, he may even take the day off of work to comfort you
vox is the type to turn on soft music when you're sad and pull you into a slow dance right in the middle of your apartment. he doesn't care that you're bleary eyed and that you keep stepping on his feet, he doesn't care that its sappy or that it makes him seem vulnerable to care about you so much. as long as he gets to see you smile and giggle as you both clumsily swirl around eachother, he's content in staying in this moment forever.
if you're ever angry/frustrated and take it out on him, he may be a little pissy but he can take it, especially if you feel really bad afterwards. he doesn't take it to heart if you have a bad day and snap at him, hell, he does it all the time. he may be a little pouty if you don't apologize but don't worry he'll get over it in a few minutes once he sees how tired you are
while vox is a little chaotic, he's a genuinely good person to vent too because he will literally always agree with you no matter what. you murder someone? its their fault for walking into your knife. he absolutely supports your rights (and wrongs) no matter what
he's also a pretty good listener in general because he just. listens. he doesn't give unnecessary input, he doesn't try to play devils advocate, he just listens and shows interest in what you have to say and comforts you when necessary. he doesn't see why thats such a big deal, but he genuinely is a pretty decent listener.
vox is also a yapper though, if you need to get your mind off of your day just tell him and he'll start explaining the most random things to you. oh, you had something really embarrassing happen today and you want to forget about it? well now you're going to listen to 500 shark facts while also hearing the entire princess bride lore. sorry not sorry.
vox would find the shittiest movie with the worst cgi imaginable for you both to watch after a long day, he loves curling up with you on the couch and making fun of horribly animated graphics together
i also think he's (secretly) a fan of corny romance films and/or romcoms, and would want to recreate cute scenes with you (but would literally never tell you that) so you both may end up watching cutesy romance movies too
(this is the song i had in mind bc its soo vox, so u can listen to this for the "full experience")
"aw c'mon bub, don't tell me your too mopey to dance?" vox extended his hand to you, yet his smile was a little more forced than usual. his eyes were wide on his screen, almost concerned about the teats staining your cheeks.
"m' fine voxy.." you mutter, turning away. "it was just a bad day." vox pouts, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.
"trust me, this will make you feel better," he assured, pulling you to your feet. vox snapped his fingers and a bright, upbeat tune began to play in the background. pulling you in close, vox twirled you around before stepping back, switching to a simple slow dance.
you can't help a soft smile from creeping onto your face as vox continues to exaggeratedly spin and pull you around. hell, if anyone could see you both now, they'd be shocked.
"who knew that the overlord of technology was such a sap?" you giggle, pulling vox down by his tie to give him a kiss, and he chuckles in response. vox pouts, yet his eyes crinkle a bit as a genuine smile graces his features. "only for you!!".
i saw this and immediately opened my drafts 🫡 it is a CRIME that i haven't written any vox fluff when he's literally one of my fav pookies. i have literally only written smut for him 😭 anyways, i hope this made ur day at least a bit better!!!! sending lots of love ur way ♥️♥️♥️♥️
also i am SO honored to be called ur favorite bc hello??? ur my favorite too?????
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bruhnze · 2 months
Text
Fuck this - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Summary: Jealous Lucy.
Warnings: A lot of bad words, smut. Minors DNI. Not proof read :) THIS IS X-RATED!!!
Wordcount: 4k
i dedicate this one to you @onabronze and to the anons that asked it's not really good but i tried :).
(i've emptied my inbox so if your ask is not on my WIP pls send again (if u still want it done) because i had so much garbage in there i just removed everything in one go, sorry not sorry😬)
Ps: We do not hate Germany (don't come for me, it was for the plot)!
´´fuck this shit´´ Lucy mumbled to herself as she was running faster and faster on the treadmill, ´´fucking dick-head ref, that’s not a fucking yellow´´. ‘’Cata is a fucking goalie, you fuck ass pigfucker, really strange for her to use her hands, huh, dumb fuck’’.
´´that’s a lot of f-bombs Bronze’’ Millie tried to joke, not noticing how worked up the English defender really was.
‘’Fuck off Millie’’, Bronze called as she stopped the machine and ran off with her eyes glued to her phone.
‘’Bruh’’ Lauran giggled, ‘’you know Spain Germany is on right now’’.
‘’Oh really’’ Millie said confused, ‘’ohh, fuck, her girl is playing for Spain right’’.
‘’Yeah, they’re losing’’ Sam called from the bench on the side of the gym, ‘’Gwinn is about to take a penal and she hasn’t missed a single one for club’’.
‘’Are you watching that?’’ James asked while she strutted over to the Australian, ‘’let me watch along’’.
‘’Ofcourse mate’’ Sam chuckled, ‘’I watch everything’’.  
‘’Do we check on her?’’ Millie asked, mostly directed to Lauren, as she knows her best.
‘’Nah’’ James says, ‘’if you like to live you’d best leave her alone’’.
‘’Sure?’’.
‘’Yes, we’ll just give her some boxing gloves as the game is over’’.
..
‘’Ona doesn’t deserve this shit, what a horseshit head coach’’.
‘’Putellas missing a penalty what a fucking joke’’.
‘’You’re a cunt Berger, A CUNT!’’.
Lauren knocked on the doorpost of the locker-room, ‘’Ey Luce, they’re looking for someone to break in the new boxing gloves’’.
‘’I hate those German wankers with their ugly kits’’.
The English forward suppressed a giggle, ‘’yeah they suck, but you should turn it of bruv, it’s no point of watching them cry’’.
‘’Ona is going to be devastated’’, Lucy said as she looked up and stared ahead, as if she’s just realized it.
‘’Are you seeing her soon?’’ Lauren asked carefully.
Lucy snapped out of her trance and looked at her friend, ‘’yeah she coming tomorrow’’.
‘’To London?’’.
‘’Yes, she has ten days off’’.
''Well then you have enough time to comfort her''.
Lucy sighed ''yeah, I'll just quickly send her a text and then we'll box, I'm going to turn off this stream bullshit''. She says as she looked back at her phone and saw Paralluelo crying. ‘’my heart can’t take this’’, she muttered quietly without James hearing it.
..
When she was driving back ‘home’ from the training ground she received a call, it was Ona.
‘’Hey love’’, Lucy said timidly, not sure about if Ona’s mood would be more sad or angry, or maybe both.
Instead Ona answered pretty lightly, ‘’hey Luce, how are you?’’.
‘’Huh?’’ Lucy said, maybe a bit too loud ‘’I should be asking you that’’.
‘’Montse just scolded us for an hour’’ Ona said, ‘’but for some reason I don’t care about the loss, Germany was just better and I think Cata needs a psychologist after she’s broken her nose, she’s been out of it for every game after it’’.
‘’You deserved to win’’ Lucy said with tears in her eyes.
Ona chuckled ‘’I love you Lucy, but honestly, I’ve got respect for the Germans, they played well’’.
‘’I hate the Germans’’.
Ona chuckled louder, ‘’no Luce, you can not say that because they won Bronze’’.
‘’I hate Montse then’’.
‘’Okay’’, Ona laughed ‘’I agree with that one’’. ‘’But I am going to dinner with my family tonight, so I have to get ready in a little bit, you texted me to call you when I had time, so that’s why I called’’.
‘’Oh wow’’ Lucy said, a little hurt ‘’not because you wanted to hear your girlfriends voice’’.
‘’I see you tomorrow’’, Ona chuckled.
‘’That’s true but I still miss you today’’ Lucy sighed, ‘’maybe I’m a wuss, but I just feel bad for you Oni and I thought you might have needed some comfort’’.
‘’I love you, but I have to get ready’’ Ona laughed, ‘’see you tomorrow?’’.
‘’or you can call me tonight after dinner?’’.
‘’I think I will go to bed straight after, I am extremely tired’’.
‘’I understand, do you want to stay on the phone when you get ready?’’.
‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she put her phone on speaker.
After Ona had hung up because her cab was about to be there, Lucy thought about what she would eat for dinner.
She looked around her kitchen, ''fuck'' she mumbled ''i should clean this shit up''.
She opened her phone and ordered some sushi for tonight, 'because she deserved some comfort food' and got to work.
Her appartment was still a bit of a mess after the quick move in, and she needed it to be presentable for her girlfriend tomorrow. Ona would probably start cleaning her place and she didn't want to be a partner like that, that would be stupid because it was one of her own icks.
As she had cleaned up her apartment the bell rang.
With the sushi she took place at the table and opened the ipad that layed there.
Mindlessly she went on Twitter, she was logged on to her anonymous account and went on the hashtag 'Ona Battle'. She knew she shouldn't, but she was curious what the people thought of her performance this game.
Lucy had seen Ona was tired, but when you took in mind she'd played every single minute, and Lucy knew Ona slept very bad in the hotel, she had played very good.
She froze when she saw people joking about Feli and Ona being back together ''what the hell?'' she said to herself as she went deeper into the rabbithole and eventually came aross pictures of Ona in a Germany shirt, and not just any German shirt, it was the ugly 'Rauch 19' one.
Lucy was tempted to send a teasing text, maybe even with the picture attached, but she chose not too.
She couldn't help to feel a little anger inside her towards Feli, and as she came across a video of them chatting and giggling Lucy lost her shit and quickly closed the Ipad.
She jumped up from the table ''Fucking hell, not bothered about losing, fuck that'', she started pacing the room ''Germay deserved it'' she mocked, ''sure Ona, if you want to fuck her just say that''.
Lucy walked to her kitchen and fetched a beer from the fridge that was left from when Jorge had helped her with building some furniture ''fuck it'', she thought she might aswell have this because it was such a shitty night.
She took the beer to the bathroom and ran a bath, after that she went back to the kitchen to grab her ipad and got in, eventhough she had already taken a shower this afternoon.
Finaly she felt a little better, she had watched some episodes of a series she was watching and after two hours she decided to just go to bed early, Ona didn't want to call anyways so she didn't see the point of staying up. Might aswell get some rest before she saw Ona again tomorrow, eventhough she'd probably be very tired, so Lucy doubted they'd do anything, but atleast she'd be able to take care of her better.
As she got comfy in her bed she opened her phone to check one last time if Ona had sent her a text.
She hadn't.
Then she opened Instagram, scrolling for a little while.
She was just about to shut her phone when she saw @feli_rauch on her timeline, ''bitch'' she grumbled and as she took a better look she saw it was a teamphoto of the Germans, she only saw one person wearing a red shirt in the whole group.
''No way'' she said out loud as she zoomed in, ''are you kiddin' me'' - ''the only fucking shirt swap and it's my girlfriends' ''.
She closed her phone, trew it on the nightstand and dramatically dropped herself on the bed to go to sleep.
As she remembered she still had to put on an alarm and it would be probably best to have her phone on the charger she reached out to put the nightlamp on and fetched it.
When she held her phone it automatically unlocked with face-ID, and she saw that god-awfull team picture again ''fuckkkkkk'' she groaned as she swiped instagram away ''this is one big joke''.
After she had finally put in an alarm and found her charger, she put the light out and layed down again.
She tried hard to sleep but her mind kept wondering off to Ona.
Normally she wouldn't mind that one bit, sometimes her hand would even find it's way between her legs when she thought about her hot, beautiful girlfriend.
But not this time, her mind was polluted with images of Feli and Ona laughing together.
She knew Feli was Ona's ex, she had never really been bothered about it, eventhough she knew her mind was just being a bit stupid, she couldn't help to think back about what Ona had told her about Feli after Lucy had asked her how she had ever been with Feli.
''I wasn't really with her, we just fucked''. Ona had said laughing, ''but i soon found out she was very vanilla and for a relationship we would never ever work''.
Lucy knew she shouldn't have asked the question, but she had, ''but was she good?''.
Ona had asked her if she really wanted to know, and she had confirmed that she did.
After the answer she had regretted asking it, ''uhm, well, at the things she did do she was pretty good at, it just got boring very quickly'' Ona had said.
Now she was laying in bed with the thoughts of Feli fucking Rauch having her way with her precious Ona.
The thought that the German had tasted Ona sickened her.
The thought that the German had been inside Ona sickened her.
But the thought that Ona had, at one point, enjoyed it, got her blood boiling.
Maybe it was the distance.
Maybe it was because they hadn't been able to be intimate for a few weeks now.
Maybe it was the fact Ona hadn't told her about the shirt swap.
But Lucy felt jealous like she had never before.
..
Lucy woke up from her alarm, and checked her messages.
None from Ona.
She freshened up and got dressed.
Nothing from Ona.
In the kitchen she made herself some breakfast.
Nothing from Ona.
She went through the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator and wrote out a grocery list.
Nothing from Ona.
Lucy knew she would be flying in a couple of hours, so she decided to send a text herself, eventhough she had wanted Ona to text her first.
..
It was afternoon, Lucy was waiting in her blue Skoda outside of the airport. When she saw the beautiful freckled woman walking outside, searching for her, she jumped out of the car.
Ona was wearing sunglasses and a hat, but Lucy would always recognise her.
She opened her trunk and walked towards Ona.
''Hello baby'', she said happily.
''Luce!'', Ona said as she sped up her pace walking to her girlfriend.
They shared an embrace, ''i have missed you so much'' Ona muttered against the taller woman.
Lucy held Ona away from her to take a look at her face, ''i have missed you too''.
''I want to kiss you, so lets get in the car please'', Ona said smiling.
Lucy hastily threw the suitcase into the car and got back in the drivers seat as she saw Ona was already in the car.
''Your suitcase was pretty light'' Lucy said as she hopped in next to Ona.
''Yeah, i gave a lot of my stuff with Joan, i'm planning to wear your clothes anyways'' Ona stated.
''Oh'' Lucy said as she smiled at her girlfriend, ''and cool frames by the way''.
She leant in to kiss Ona.
They shared a kiss full of love, it was adamant that they had both missed eachother.
Not wanting to risk being spotted by anyone Lucy pulled back and got ready to drive off, reversing out of the parking spot.
''What yours is mine'' Ona chuckled, ''you said it yourself''.
''True'', Lucy said as she put her hand on Ona's thigh and drove away ''it's cute''.
..
Lucy carried Ona's suitcase to her apartment, and handed Ona the key to get them inside.
''Should i unpack your stuff? is there anything in here that needs to be washed?''.
''Uhm, i don't think so, i have only worn a few clothes, mostly the olympic stuff and those are with Joan, he is going to wash that for me''.
''Clever'' Lucy chuckled, ''putting your brother to work''.
Ona grinned, ''ofcourse, but maybe i will take a shower now and then we can nap together?''.
''I'd love that'' Lucy said, ''oh and let me show you around quickly, i almost forgot''.
It was a pretty quick tour, as the apartment wasn´t that big.
´´So here is the kitchen´´, Lucy said smiling as she turned on her heel and spinned.
Ona laughed, ´´are you making us dinner tonight?'' she asked stepping closer to Lucy.
''Of course beautiful'' Lucy said as she pressed herself against the Catalan, ''i was thinking that one tofu dish you like''.
''Hm yes''. Ona groaned, thinking about the dish Lucy made her often, because she liked it so much.
''Good'' Lucy said ''because I bought stuff to make that this morning''.
''You know me so well''.
''Yes'' Lucy smiled, ''and to be known is to be loved''.
''So romantic'' Ona laughed.
''Oh i'm feeling really romantic'' Lucy said as she bit her lip.
´´Really?'' Ona smirked as she put her arms around Lucy's neck and crossed them.
Lucy kissed her softly.
Ona hungerly answered the kiss and tried to get impossibly closer, getting up her tiptoes.
Lucy pulled away with a smile on her face ''but first you wanted to shower right?''.
The Catalan pouted ''i do.. but i also want you''.
The English defender kissed her girlfriend ''i'll be still here after the shower, and i know how you like to shower off the travel''.
''sí okay''.
They went to the bedroom, Lucy leading the way.
Lucy showed the on-suite bathroom and pointed to the towels.
''Leave the door open?'', Lucy asked in the sweetest voice she could put on.
''Sure'' Ona chuckled, ''are you staying in the bedroom?''.
''Yeah i'll put away your clothes really quick, i don't want you living out of a suitcase when you're with me, and i left some space in the closet for you''.
Ona kissed Lucy, ''you're cute''.
''You're cute'', Lucy repeated.
Lucy opened the suitcase, ''you need some underwear? and what do you want to wear or were you really planning on stealing my clothes''.
''huh'' Ona said, ''it's not stealing, it's my right''.
She chuckled until she watched Lucy's face who could appearently not laugh about it, ''what?''.
Lucy stayed silent.
''Sorry'' Ona ''i'll wear my own clothes if you really don't-
''No'' Lucy said, ''why don't you wear this'' she asked with a sarcastic laugh as she held up the white football shirt.
Ona chuckled.
Lucy looked at her in disbelieve ''you think this is funny? tell me why i have a damp German shirt in my hands right now?'''.
''I said my brother was going to wash my stuff right'' Ona said, ''well, match worn is worth more, you know you're supposed to keep the shirts you trade unwashed right?''.
''Fuck that''.
''It's financially responsible'', Ona laughed and stepped towards Lucy to kiss her.
With a quick peck she wanted to walk away.
Lucy didn't have any of that and grabbed her wrist, ''more please''.
Ona chuckled, ''let me shower, then we nap together''.
''Ona''.
Ona sighed but gave in, she held Lucy's face as she kissed her again, this time more slowly.
Lucy hands travelled to Ona's ass and squeezed her cheeks as she pulled the Catalan in closer.
Ona grinned into the kiss, ''you missed me'' she said, with a tone sounding somewhere between a question and a statement.
''Where did you and Feli talk about after the match?'' Lucy said before she could stop herself.
Ona looked up with a mischievious smirk, ''is that what is bothering you?''.
Lucy huffed out some air, ''why did you swap shirts with her''.
''She wanted too''.
''So you said yes? and giggled about it with her?''.
''What did you want me to do then'' Ona chuckled, thinking it was funny seeing this jealous side of Lucy, it was something new.
''I dont know'' Lucy scolded lightly, ''just to tell her to fuck off with her boring shirt''.
Ona laughed ''boring shirt?, how can a shirt be boring''.
''Not the point'' Lucy grumbled, ''you talked to her after the match and you didn't want to speak to me''.
''I had a dinner!'' Ona laughed as she rubbed Lucy's arms, ''don't worry, you are the only one for me''.
She kissed Lucy's pouty face, ''my beautiful *kiss* strong *kiss* smart *kiss* perfect girlfriend *kiss*''.
Lucy pulled the Catalan thighter against her, ''i think i should give you a reminder''.
''What reminder?'' Ona frowned.
''About what good sex is like''.
''Luce!'' Ona slapped her shoulder playfully.
Lucy frowned, ''you want boring sex?''.
''No..''.
''Cus if you want that I could just put that ugly shirt on and we can roleplay that''.
Ona blushed, ''Lucee''.
Lucy's jaw dropped, ''you're not even saying that you don't want that?!''.
''I don't want that'' Ona rushed to say.
Lucy rolled her eyes. ''yeah i totally believe you now''.
''Sorry'' Ona pouted, putting on a cute smile ''i was distracted because you look so hot when you are jealous''.
''Í'm not jealous!''.
''Oh, és clar que no ets gelós'' (oh i see you are not jealous) Ona mockingly chuckled, she reached out to the suitcase and grabbed the shirt.
''Maybe i will wear it today''.
Lucy looked at her with dark eyes.
''It smells like her'' Ona added with a grin.
A second of silence hang in the air.
''Put it on.'' Lucy said.
Ona's smile faded ''No i was just joking''.
Lucy repeated herself ''go on, put it on''.
''I was kidding''.
''i'm not''. ''put. it. on.''.
Ona gulped and took her shirt off to put it on.
Lucy stopped her, ''no wait, first get naked and then put it on'' she said as she took her shorts off.
Ona felt her heartbeat fasten from the way this aroused her and followed the instructions.
''Your panties too'' Lucy said as walked to 'the drawer' and chose a rather large strap-on to wear.
Ona looked excited at Lucy, wearing a cheeky smile.
''You want this one?'' she helt the strap up.
Ona nodded furiously, a blush creeping on her cheeks.
''i can't hear you'' Lucy said as she pretended to put it back in the drawer again and took her shirt off.
''No wait'' Ona said ''yes, i want that one''.
''Okay, i suppose you deserve it right?''.
''Yes'' Ona said desperately ''please Luce, i-''.
''-laughed with an ex'' Lucy said sternly, ''i don't know if that is good girl-behavior''.
Ona kept quiet as Lucy walked towards her on the bed.
Lucy put the strap in her harness and hovered above Ona.
''that's basicly asking her to fuck you'' she wispered as she let her eyes roam the woman below her.
Ona put her hands on Lucy and chuckled ''Luce, you're crazy''.
''You know how i always say you would look perfect in everything?''.
''mhmm'' Ona grinned.
''Well this is awfull'' Lucy plucked at the shirt.
Ona tried to kiss Lucy but Lucy leant back just in time to dodge it.
''Turn around''.
Ona whined but quickly oblidged, this attitude was making her feel some things.
She was on all fours on the bed and without warning Lucy slapped her ass, resulting in a moan escaping her throat without her being able to surpres.
''Im so wet'' Ona whined as she felt herself dripping along her thighs, she looked over her shoulder to read Lucy's face.
''Don't look at me'' Lucy ordered, ''your pretty face doesn't suit this revolting shirt''.
She leaned against Ona to hold her face before she could turn, and gave her a kiss ''you are beautiful'' she said and softly kissed her lips.
When she released Ona's face and let her hand slide over the number '19' she huffed out some air.
''But you should be happy i have a fake cock'' Lucy grumbled, ''cus i could never get a hard-on like this''.
Ona whimpered.
A cracking sound and a moan filled the room.
Lucy watched the flesh of Ona's as jiggle and groped the skin when it turned red.
''Who does this ass belong to?''
Ona groaned ''you''.
Lucy rubbed the tip of her rubber cock along Ona's wetness.
The Catalan's breath hitched in her throat ''Luce'' she chocked out.
Another time Lucy's hand found it's way to Ona's behind with great force.
''Agh'' Ona groaned, ''please Luce''.
Lucy grabbed Ona by her hips and guided her to grind against her.
''please''.
With one hand Lucy reached around for the smaller womans' centre.
With two fingers she traced her lips and collected some wetness before circling her clit.
''Fuck'' Lucy breathed out, ''so wet''.
She had problems with circling one spot at how wet Ona was, her fingers slipping away.
''Who are you so wet for?'' Lucy asked, talking in Ona's ear.
''You Lucy! you''. Ona practically cried out.
With that Lucy carefully slid the strap inside in one fluent movement.
''Merda'' (fuck) Ona moaned as her head slumped to her chest.
Lucy picked up a rhythm that she knew would drive Ona crazy, perfect for building the tension inside her quickly.
But after a few moments Lucy fastened her pace, not able to contain herself she fucked Ona hard and deep, the sight of the fabric around Ona fueling her anger.
She gave her another spanking to 'punish' Ona for wearing the shirt, but she knew it wasn't actually a punishment for Ona, which was confirmed by the filthy moan she let out.
''I'm coming'' Ona cried out as she gripped the sheets with clenched fists.
''Shit, already?'', Lucy groaned and kept thrusting.
''Lucí'' Ona said as her arch deepened.
''Fuck, come for me Ona'' Lucy said as her grip on Ona thightend.
With a loud cry Ona came.
Lucy slowly rode out her orgasm and released her grip on the girl, causing her to flop down on the bed.
The English woman shuffeld and took the strap out of the harness and layed it on the bed besides them, figuring the sheets were ruined anyways.
Lucy pulled Ona around by her shirt.
Ona looked at her with hooded eyes, wearing a content expression from her post-orgasmic bliss.
Lucy smiled, ''hi beautiful''.
Ona grinned as she took Lucy's hands, ''thought you hated it''.
Lucy scrunched her face ''the shirt; yes.. you; no''.
The Catalan smiled, ''i'll take it off'' she said as she sat up.
She stopped as she noticed reticence on Lucy's face.
''What?''.
A smile tugged on Lucy's mouth, ''i'm debating sending her a picture''.
'''Lucy!''. Ona punched her girlfriend.
She snapped out of her dream and redirected her gaze from the shirt to Ona's face. She shook her head quickly, ''sorry, i don't know why i said that''.
Ona chuckled, slapping a hand on her forhead ''jealousy''.
''I don't want her to see that pretty little fucked out face of yours''.
Ona chuckled and held her arms up, ''pull this off, we're throwing it away''.
''I'll sell it for you'' Lucy grinned, ''you didn't do all this effort for nothing, did you?''.
Lucy helped her out of the shirt and threw it so far it landed in the hallway.
''Well, that's gone'' Ona chuckled at the unreasonable attitude Lucy had, and tugged on Lucy's sportsbra ''this can go too''.
Lucy quickly took it off and got on top of Ona.
''Did i go to far?''.
''No''.
Lucy tilted her head questioning.
''I'm sure, it was hot actually, a little gross, but hot''.
''Gross?''.
''Yeah, stinky shirt'' Ona said with a disgusted face, making Lucy chuckle.
''Oh and'' Lucy said as she traced her hands along Ona's skin, ''as much as i hate it, you did look beautiful''.
Ona smirked, ''i thought the things you said were really hot'', ''i am already thinking about who's shirt i'll trade next''.
Lucy narrowed her eyes and shook her head, ''ohh you're bad''.
''Sí, soy fatal'' (i'm a baddie) Ona joked chuckling.
''Que?'' Lucy said, thinking Ona just called herself terrible.
''In spanish we call someone that's unreasonably hot, fatal, it means they're bad but it is like slang'' Ona explained, ''a funny joke, because you called me bad''.
''I get that now'' Lucy laughed, ''that's funny actually, in English you can also say someone is a baddie, same thing''.
''Really?''.
''Sí'' Lucy said, ''god, i will miss our language talks''.
''We call every day'' Ona said, frowning.
Lucy looked at her with a pouty face ''but you don't want to talk to me''.
''Luceee'' Ona dropped her head on the pillow ''I had a dinner!!'' she called out snickering.
''I love when you call out my name'' Lucy said as she ran her hands along Ona's thighs.
Ona looked up with a smirk, ''I love when you make me call out your name''.
''I think I forgot what you taste like'' Lucy said as she crawled on top of Ona.
..
-----
The end, not theirs.
-Keep an eye out for Feli's shirt on Ebay 😂
Feel free to give me feedback/tips (anonymously) but in a kind way is the most appreciated xx
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cvnt4him · 27 days
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Maybe Izuku’s first kiss? And how adorablely awkward he is after.
— ˗ˋ ୨ our first... ୧ ˊ˗ —
˗ˋ Kiss! ˊ˗
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You guys were at a school dance n went together as friends since some of your schoolmates/classmates had dates. You weren't alone together necessarily as you had a whole group of people w no dates, but you and izuku personally wanted to go together yk as "friends". You end up feeling down watching everyone make cute n cool memories together and it js dawns on you that you aren't out there making those memories. You're standing on the sidelines watching people have fun. You leave out of the gym and js go sit by some lockers, it hurt your heart so much that you hadn't managed to find someone to go with. You looked pretty, you smelled nice, you even tried your hardest to stand out to others yk be social. But it didn't work. No date, you were stuck with your friends. Izuku being izuku he ran after you, he wanted to assure you were alright.
“ y/n..? y/n! are you... okay? you ran out before I could as you.”
“ I'm fine.. just thinking I'm wasting my time, I mean look at us izuku. we're sitting here instead of dancing, d’yknow how lame that is?!”
Izuku snickered under his breath, making you shoot a glance to him. He cleared his throat trying to contain his giggles and took a deep breath. He was nervous for what was going to come next but he didn't want you to feel bad anymore, he just hoped you'd hear him out.
“ well.. if that's all you're worried about, why don't you just come dance with.. me?”
The look you gave him absolutely terrified him, he was afraid you'd say no so being the guy he is he was quick to try and excuse himself.
“ w- well it's just that, y'know I don't want you to be lonely! it can just go as friends, y'know we don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, I completely understand if ive overstep bounderies, I'll see myself ou-”
“ no no wait! I actually wouldn't mind that.”
“ really!? ahem- I mean err.. really?”
You giggled at how excited he sounded, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him up. He had a wide smile on his face as you pulled him back into the gym. The two of you danced together, stepping on each other's feet occasionally bumping into people, and even almost falling over, but no matter how embarrassing that all was or how bad you two were at dancing, you were having fun and that's all that mattered to you. You were making silly memories with one of your dearest friends.
You hadn't realized it but this meant so much to izuku, poor guy had been crushing on you for so long he couldn't even believe that he asked you to dance. It's like he was possessed by some spirit who just craved you deeply. The songs started to get slower which meant it was time for slow dances, with a quick smile you laid your head on his shoulder lightly swaying your hips as you moved closer to him. Izuku swore he could smell all of you, your shampoo your perfume even your lotion! It was so terrifying yet so sweet. He couldn't believe he got to have you this close.
He looked down at you, a smile still present on your face as you slightly giggled. This was so much fun, neither of you wanted it to end but before you knew it, the song was over, the DJ was saying something that neither of you bothered to listen to. You looked up at him pulling away slightly, he nervously chuckled trying hard not to embarrass himself.
You hadn't even realized that this entire time you two had been staring at each other, just looking longingly into each other's eyes. Izuku was literally shaking, he was sweating in his blazer, he couldn't believe you were this close. His hands were shaking on your hips as he brought one of his calloused and rough hands up to your cheek gently caressing it. It shocked you but you welcomed it, slowly moving closer to each other.
Your eyes trailed down to his lips and he instantly knew you wanted to kiss him. He had actually learned how to do all of this from searching it up, he has no game at all so he resorted to the internet, who knew it could actually provide. Your nose bumped against izukus making him jolt and a small noise leave him, his breath was shaky and stuttering and you could smell the mint lingering on it. He was scared but he wanted this to be enjoyable, with a deep breath he placed both of his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a gentle kiss.
His lips were slightly chapped and kind of rough, unsurprisingly. Izuku is the kind of guy to pick at his lips or bite them when he's thinking in class, you noticed that. Despite it all though, it was a nice kiss. He was gentle and it seemed like he knew what he was doing, his lips were slowly moving against yours a deep fire igniting between you two. He gained some random type of boldness and pulled you into him, your chests together as your lips moved in a cute synchronization.
The kiss lasted for quite some time, you both losing your breath and trying hard to breathe in through your need to not let the kiss end, alas all good things must come to an end. You pull away to catch your breath, breathing heavily trying not to cough from the sudden invasion of air. Izuku mindlessly tried to follow your lips, desperate to feel you close again. He whined lowly, not going unheard to you of course, making you giggle. He leaned his forehead against yours and caught his breath as well, he couldn't believe this actually happened.
You two just sat there for a moment, in each other's arms in silence besides the music and other kids chatting in the background. It was comfortable despite you two being in a huge public space. It's like the entire world drowned out, well, emphasis on "it's like". You heard girls squeal so loudly making you both jump and shoot your heads over to the direction, along with other people staring at the girls.
Mina had squealed so loudly that people were practically staring daggers into her and your other girl friends. She was pointing at the two of you and jumping up and down making others look at you, this is the type of attention you didn't know if you wanted. Izuku slowly turned his head back to you with a nervous smile.
“ hehe... hi..”
“ hello, izuku.”
The once beautiful moment you two had was now incredibly awkward. You both cleared your throats and came up with some lame excuse to leave each other. You were so embarrassed you buried your face in jirou's neck you couldn't believe that just happened, mins was so quick to shut your self loathing down, making you look at the same green haired boy you'd just kissed. He was so nervous n awkward, all the guys playfully teasing and punching him.
He was a red mess, he literally looked like a strawberry. Poor thing was being eaten alive, his eyes ended up trailing to your group he tried to give you a polite smile and wave before bakugou walked up n whispered something in his ear making him get even more red, as if that were even possible. You couldnt help but giggle at the adorable mess you wanted to call yours.
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Bonus!!!!
A couple of weeks later you two were so awkward around each other, not even bringing up the kiss you shared. It literally took denki yelling “ask her out!” for him to confess to you. It was because he was on the spot, you're both sure he probably wouldn't have asked you out if he hadn't been.
But it's okay, because the kisses and cuddles that came from being his girlfriend meant everything to you<3
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AN: he's such a cutie y'all, him being embarrassingly n awkwardly bold is my favorite
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