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#just wish i had known that when i was there for christmas that it was the last time i'd be seeing him
coquelicoq · 6 months
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Do you mind sharing your brand for ear plugs and noise canceling headphones? I’ve tried so many different kinds but have had trouble finding ones that work well or are also comfortable. I know our needs might be different but it would be worth a try! Ty <3
for earplugs i just use the kroger brand foam ones for sleeping and going to concerts. i really only need two things from earplugs: 1) they don't fall out and 2) they reduce noise somewhat. these work well enough so i haven't really shopped around for other options.
i don't actually like my noise-cancelling headphones, they're pretty uncomfortable on my head. they often give me a headache, and they make my ears all sweaty. but there are frequently very loud events on my street, and for a while there my neighbor was having a lot of noisy sex that i really didn't want to hear, and i was kind of losing my mind. so i asked for some headphones for christmas and am just using whatever random pair i was given. i think they're skullcandy brand.
i hope you have better luck soon!
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wheresmulder · 2 years
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kilibaggins · 7 months
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/ vent. again. death of family member talk
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maytheamazing · 10 months
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once again i am in bed attempting to sleep but my dumb brain decides to remind me about my recent firing and the absolute bullshit that came out of this manager's mouth. she really said to me "I care about everyone here" after i requested some variety to her THIRTY EIGHT HOUR christmas music playlist because it was causing me psychological damage and made me want to self harm AND THEN TOLD ME NO
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taeghi · 2 months
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your little brother, my little secret
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yn and joy share every secret, until yn returns from university to find joy's little brother jake has become irresistibly hot. maybe keeping just one secret from your best friend won't hurt… right?
PAIRING : best friends little brother!jake x reader
GENRE : smut & angst. jake's (shy) a sub for majority of it. dirty talk, masturbation, degrading + humiliation, & y/n is a menace.
WC : 14k
mdni
you’ve been counting down the days until summer for what feels like forever. you’re returning to your hometown for the entire two months you have until university starts again in september. 
you’ve been driving for miles now, just having to go to a university two hours away from your small hometown. but the summer air is thick and humid, and it blows throughout the car as all the windows are down. 
your best friend, joy, sits beside you. you’ve known her for just as long as she has moved into your small town when you both were ten. since then, you’ve shared everything together; every laugh, every tear… every secret. her family feels like your own, summers spent in their backyard, evenings filled with board games and cards. some nights in high school even included sneaking out to a party and drinking until you thought you’d throw up. 
last summer was different. you were abroad doing an internship for university. and you didn’t get a chance to stay long during christmas break. so, it’s been a while since you’ve actually stayed in your hometown with all its familiarities. 
“jake will be home when we get there,” joy says, loud enough to be heard over the wind and faint music. 
“oh right, how’s he liking university?” 
jake is joy’s little brother. he’s always been shy, introverted, prefers to stay home and play video games instead of going out like you and joy. you remember him as a cute kid, all wide eyed and shy smiles. you don’t remember him having much friends, he’d rather be alone in his room. it’s hard for you to imagine him navigating the crowded university, but you suppose he’s all grown up now. it’s been so long since you’ve seen him, and the thought of how much he changed lingers in your mind. 
“he likes it,” joy says, her long black hair blowing out the window, “he’s excited for summer like we are.” 
you nodded in response, thinking maybe jake would go out with you guys now instead of playing video games in his room all summer. 
“we gotta go to hyunjin’s this week!” joy declares, her eyes lighting with anticipation, “you know he’s throwing a big party this week. and then, there’s that new bar that opened downtown. we have to check it out!” 
you agree with joy. her energy is infectious despite her brash (sometimes too brash) exterior. joy has always been more straightforward and perhaps blunt than you are. when sometimes you can be a people pleaser and a pushover, joy is there to say the words you wish you could say. 
“i can’t wait,” you reply, “it’s been too long since we’ve had a proper night out.” 
joy shoots you a mischievous grin, her confidence unwavering, “oh trust me, yn. this summer, we’re going all out.” 
you roll your eyes at your pretty best friend, pulling into her family’s driveway swiftly. 
you and joy step through the front door of the house, a place that is more familiar and comforting than your own. the place smells like a home cooked meal and you are instantly greeted with joy’s parents’ smiles. joy’s mother envelops you in a hug, her warmth and kindness instantly easing any fatigue from the long drive. 
"oh, yn, joy, it's so good to see you both!" joy's mother exclaims, her smile radiant. "dinner will be ready shortly. you must be exhausted after the drive. please, sit down in the living room and relax."
joy's father joins in, his jovial voice filling the room. "how was the trip? traffic wasn't too bad, i hope?" her parents' genuine concern and hospitality are a stark contrast to your own parents. 
"it was fine, dad," joy replies, her tone affectionate yet tinged with a hint of impatience. "we're just glad to be home for the summer."
you smile over your shoulder at her parents as she drags you to the living room. it looks the same as you remember it; comfy fabric couch, family photos on the walls, lit candles around the room that mix with the smell of dinner. 
joy props her feet up on the coffee table as she starts to scroll her phone. a nonchalant smile plays on her lips, “can’t believe we’re back here.” she says with a sigh.
before you can respond, a sudden noise draws your attention towards the backdoor. two figures emerge, their arms swaying as they laugh and push each other. 
“hey guys,” joy's casual greeting halts their antics momentarily, but it's the sight of you on the couch that freezes one of the boys in his tracks. he stands there, awkward and unsure.
the other boy remains cool and confident as he greets joy and walks over to you both on the couch. he stands in front of you, sticking his hand out in front of your face, “i’m heeseung.” 
you look up at him as he stands, his features are chiseled. his eyes are a deep shade of brown. his smile is almost cocky, but disarming as he flashes it effortlessly. there’s an aura of assurance about him, that he knows he’s good looking and he’s confident about it. 
your hand meets his, “i’m y/n.” your eyes flicker back to the boy who remains rooted to the spot, his expression unreadable as he almost quiets away into the wall. 
“are you gonna come hug your sister, jake?” joy squeaks from beside you, she octaves her voice higher to be annoying on purpose. 
it’s then that you realize who is standing there in the corner– you almost didn’t recognize him. 
the shy, nerdy kid you once knew is now standing before– transformed in a way that catches you off guard. where once stood a lanky teenager, now stands a man that is toned and tanned. his hair is longer and tousled in a way that accentuates his features. he’s taller and broader. 
as you take in his appearance, you can’t help but be struck by how insanely hot he has become. 
he shifts nervously, perhaps sensing your gaze. his eyes turn to joy, “no way in hell am i hugging you.” 
joy's mother breezes into the room with a warm smile, "oh jake, give your sister a hug."
joy springs up instantly, tackling jake in a bear hug that's both affectionate and overly enthusiastic. jake groans, awkwardly patting joy's back as everyone chuckles. heeseung, settles down next to you, a confident smirk playing on his lips, his eyes holding a hint of nothing other than flirtatious. 
"right, yn," joy's mother continues, her tone gentle yet teasing, "heeseung here has been keeping jake entertained since you left."
heeseung chimes in, his voice dripping with sarcasm and humor. "yeah, we're inseparable now," he says with a grin.
you laugh, unable to resist teasing. "oh really? i remember jake having no friends at all."
joy joins in, her laughter ringing through the room. "seriously, all he did was stay in his room playing video games."
"be nice, girls," she says playfully. "joy, come help me with dinner. set up a place for heeseung, too."
heeseung stands up with a mock bow. "don't worry, i'll set up my own place."
joy groans at having to help, leaving you and jake alone in the living room, complaining about why she has to help but jake doesn’t. 
jake settles into the chair directly across you, but his body language shows he’s tense and restless and it suggests that he’d rather be anywhere else. he fidgets slightly, fingers rolling over each other in his lap, his eyes darting around the room and avoiding you. 
“so, joy told me that you’ve been liking university,” you speak, trying to ease him and the awkwardness. 
jake’s cheeks colour faintly, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “uh yeah, it’s fine.” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze. 
you lean back casually, “meet any hot college girls?” 
jake’s eyes widen as he shifts uncomfortably, a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. it’s endearing; how he still seems like the shy, introverted boy you’ve always known, now trapped in a hot guy’s body. 
“n-no, not really,” he stutters out. he can’t seem to meet your eyes when he speaks, his words stumbling over each other in a rush. it’s clear he finds you intimidating in a way, and you wonder what the reason is. maybe you’ll have to play with him a bit to figure it out. 
“really?” you tilt your head, your eyes not leaving him as he struggles to eye you, “i would’ve thought you had girls climbing all over you.” 
jake’s face redden more but he answers you, “no, that’s what happens to heeseueng.” he nods his head towards the kitchen. 
“hmm,” you sit back in the couch. you aren’t surprised that a boy like heeseung would attract a lot of women. he’s confident, outgoing and obviously attractive, but you’re surprised at jake’s answer. 
before you can question him more, joy pops her head in the living room, “come eat guys.” 
jake and you stand up and head to the dining table to eat. you think to yourself that this will be a fun summer as you glance around the room. heeseung eyes your bare legs as you sit beside him and start to eat. jake sits on the other side of the table, trying to not get caught staring at you as his parents ask your best friend questions about the school year.
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you're sitting on the couch, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for joy to finish her chores so you can head out and buy a dress for hyunjin's party this week. she's taking forever, folding laundry meticulously in the living room while you're itching to go. 
“joy hurry up, i wanna go!” you groan out to her, bored of scrolling on your phone as you wait for her. 
she rolls her eyes at you, “it’s not my fault that i’m an adult and have to do family chores, y/n.” 
“i know that! but you could do them faster.” 
she shoots you a look when you groan again, a playful smirk on her face. "fine, then help me," she says, handing you a basket overflowing with clothes. "bring this up to jake's room, it's all his disgusting clothes."
with a resigned sigh, you stand up and grab the heavy basket, muttering under your breath about how slow she is. 
you knock softly on jake's door, holding the basket of clothes joy asked you to deliver. after a moment, his voice replies, "come in." you push the door open slowly, finding jake sitting up on his bed, his feet on the ground facing you. 
"oh, hey yn," he says, his voice a little nervous and shocked once he sees you, his hand flying to hair to calm it. 
ey," you reply with a warm smile, stepping into his room. "joy wanted me to bring these to you. clean clothes," you explain, holding out the basket.
oh, thanks," jake mumbles, “you can just leave it on the floor there.” 
"no problem," you say casually, noticing how he avoids meeting your gaze. 
you step into jake's room, to place the basket down. you take the time to look around the once familiar room. it’s no longer childish, and clearly belongs to an adult. 
you glance at jake as you scan his room. he's sitting on his bed, looking slightly disheveled in grey sweatpants and a baggy sweater, his tousled hair indicating he's just woken up, so you ask him, “were you sleeping?” 
he nods sheepishly, “yeah i was out late with heeseung last night,” he admits, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. 
you sit down beside him on the bed, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. the new information about his late-night outing intrigues you, prompting a teasing remark. "really? the jake sim goes out late? i can't believe it," you say with a playful smile.
he chuckles nervously, looking away from you. the awkwardness between you is palpable, despite the years of knowing each other. 
you can't help but notice how shy he still seems around you, his eyes avoiding yours as he tries to compose himself.
"are you this shy around everyone, jakey?" you ask bluntly, the nickname perks his interest. 
he glances at you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "uh, I don't know, I guess," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.
“hmm,” you sit back on your hands on his bed, looking so casual next to his tense demeanor. you decide to keep pushing, wanting to see how far he’ll let you tease him. because you do love teasing men. it’s something that you find fun– more exciting than any foreplay or sex. joy always questions you about it. she doesn’t understand why you find it more thrilling to leave a man wanting more and then doing nothing about it. she likes to get her men swiftly and straightforwardly– like everything else in her life. but how is life fun without any games? “so what did you and heeseung get up to last night? anything… exciting happen?” your eyes hold his, challenging and enticing him all at once. 
jake’s adams apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, his eyes widening slightly at your bold question. “w-we just hung out, went to a bar and lost track of time.” 
“mmm, i see,” you let your gaze travel over him, taking in the cute way his bottom lip juts out. “so you were up late last night then? do you know what i do when i’m up late at night?” you lean towards him now. he stares at your face for a second, gulping when he realizes how close you are on his bed. 
“uh, what?” 
“naughty things.” you shrug nonchalantly. his eyes widen at your boldness and he shifts again, unable to hide his growing arousal. “did you think about naughty things last night, jakey?” 
“n-no,” he stammers, shaking his head, but the flush on his cheeks gives him away. 
you tsk at him, “jakey, you can tell me. i won’t judge. in fact, i might even like hearing those naughty thoughts of yours.” 
jake’s breath quickens as your pinky finger starts to brush against his thigh. “i… i don’t know,” he whispers, his voice hoarse from arousal and sleep. 
“go on,” you urge, your lips curving into a wicked smile, “you can tell me. do you think about me late at night?” 
a sound of shock escapes his throat, and he shifts, trying to ignore the growing hardness in his jeans, “maybe.” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 
that’s it. you’ve got your in– he’s let you start a little game with him that could potentially make both of you feel good. 
“tell me,” you encourage him, your fingers now stroking his thigh up and down. “what about me do you think of?” 
his eyes squeeze shut, “just… you.” 
you laugh softly at his shyness, but you are so delighted by his response, “i want to hear more from you jake. what do you think about when you’re touching yourself?”
jake’s eyes fly open, a mixture of emotions swirling in their brown depths. desire wars with embarrassment, “i…i think about your body,” he confesses, his voice gaining some strength. “your soft skin, your- your curves. i imagine kissing you.”
you smile at how sweet he is, “that’s such a turn on, jakey.” he looks taken aback at your confession. “tell me what else you’d do to me if you could.” 
he gulps roughly, “i- i’d, make you cum.” 
you tilt your head, intrigued, “how?” 
“with my mouth.” 
you bite your lip at the thought of jake in between your legs, sucking and licking your core, getting you wet, preparing you for his cock. you wonder if he’d make you cry out from how good it would feel. you’re sure he would. 
but then you remember that this is a game. 
“hmm,” you shake your head at him, “you think that you’d make me cum?” you pretend to scan his body up and down, your hand getting dangerously close to his crotch. “we’d have to see about that.” you glance down at where your hand is meeting his body and are pleased to see his bulge, hard and pressing against his sweatpants.
before you can tease him further, his bedroom door swings further open, causing your hand to move briskly away from him. joy leans on the doorframe, her expression a mix of annoyance and impatience. 
“y/n you were rushing me, and now i’m waiting for you,” she groans, crossing her arms. “let’s go!” 
you stand up, giving jake a final teasing smile, “see you later, jakey.” you head towards the door, closing it after you, leaving him with some privacy to take care of the problem in his pants that you had created.
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on the weekend, you got ready for hyunjin’s party at joy’s house. you just got out of the shower, your hair soaked and your skin damp and moisturized. 
you wrap the soft, white towel around your body, shaking your hair to get left over water out of it once more before you leave the bathroom to go to joy’s room. 
you step out of the bathroom, as you walk passed jake’s bedroom, his door swings up. his eyes glued to his phone as he steps out of his room. he glances up just as you pass by, and you catch the moment his eyes widen in surprise. his gaze lingers on you, a mix of arousal and embarrassment. like he’s unsure of what to do. 
you don’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you as you continue walking. there’s a slight flush on his cheeks and his posture stiffens. you smirk to yourself, enjoying the effect you have on him. enjoying the game you can play with him. it feels good to know you can fluster him so easily. 
you walk into joy’s bedroom, hearing her complain about her makeup looking awful already. you turn, giving jake one last glance before you close her door. his eyes quickly dart away, but the memory of his flustered expression stays with you. 
“god my eyeliner looks horrendous,” you hear joy say into her mirror, you turn so your back is facing her and you start to get dressed in the dress you bought the other. 
“it looks good, what're you talking about?” 
joy groans in response as you slip on the dress. you start to do your own makeup and hair, listening to the faint music in joy’s room. 
“do you think heeseung is cute?” joy asks suddenly. 
your face contorts to confusion, “i mean, i guess.” 
“i think so,” 
you whip around to look at your friend, “ew what? he’s your brother's friend.” 
joy shrugs, “so?” 
you turn away from her, instead focusing on putting on mascara, “so, you would let one of your friends get with your brother?” 
joy gags, “god, no. plus who the hell would want jake anyways? he’s gross.” 
you force a laugh to come out of your mouth, “haha, yeah…” you cringe at yourself. 
it’s silent for a moment and you think joy realizes that you’re acting weird at the mention of her brother. 
“ugh!” joy grunts loudly, making you jump and look at her, “i look awful, i’m gonna wash it all off and start again.”
“what? but we have to leave soon.” 
“i’ll be quick.” 
joy dashes out to the bathroom, leaving you to finish up in silence. leaving you to think more about what happened between you and jake so far and how it could affect your friendship with joy. you tell each other everything, but this… maybe you should keep to yourself, at least for a bit. 
when joy decides she looks good (she looks the exact same before she washed it off and restarted), you both head downstairs to leave. your heels click on the steps as you walk down. as you reach the bottom, you see heeseung jake in the hallway, also preparing to head out. 
you let your eyes scan jake, his jeans and loose button up shirt fit him nicely. and his long hair is somewhat styled out of his face. leaving him with a “i didn’t try” look. 
"you guys are going to hyunjin's?" joy asks, her tone casual but curious.
"yeah, we are. i didn't know you guys are, too," heeseung replies, a hint of surprise in his voice.
joy smirks at him, "yeah, we'll see you guys there, oh! i almost forgot my phone." she turns on her heel and heads back upstairs, leaving you alone with the boys.
heeseung's eyes scan you flirtatiously, and he smirks, "you look so good, y/n."
you play along, enjoying the banter, "thanks heeseung, you do too."
heeseung bites his lip, his gaze lingering on you. "maybe you'll save me a dance at the party."
you're momentarily taken aback by his forwardness but quickly recover, used to men like him. "maybe. but you'll have to get in line."
heeseung laughs at your joke, "i will."
joy comes back down, phone in hand. you glance at jake, who has been silent the entire time, his eyes flickering between you and the floor. you wave goodbye to the boys, feeling jake's gaze on you as you leave.
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you and joy are driving to hyunjin's party. joy is singing along to the radio, excited for the night ahead. you glance at her and smile, but your mind is elsewhere. you've always played games with men, testing to see if they would submit to you or try to dominate you. it's a defense mechanism, something you've developed over the years to protect yourself.
your parents' rocky marriage and your past relationships have left you scarred. every time you let your guard down, you ended up hurt. so now, you stay in control, never letting anyone get too close. it's easier that way. safer.
you glance at joy again, grateful for her friendship. she's the only one who knows a bit about your past. the one person who knows all of your secrets. 
you and joy step into hyunjin's party, it’s as busy as you remember hyunjin’s parties to be. the music is loud, and the chatter of all the guests is even louder. 
you scan the room, spotting hyunjin across the way. a grin spreads across your face as you make your way over, joy trailing behind you.
"hyunjin!" you call out, and he turns, his face lighting up with recognition.
"yn! it's been ages!" he pulls you into a tight hug, and you laugh, hugging him back. you tell him how you’re so excited to be back in town for the summer and that you’re sure to be back at one of his parties again. 
you move through the room, greeting old hometown friends. familiar faces bring back memories, and you find yourself laughing and sharing stories about your time abroad and life in the big city. the warmth of the alcohol courses through your veins, making you feel lighter, more at ease while in such a big crowd. 
halfway through the night, the buzz from the drinks makes everything feel a bit more vibrant. the room spins slightly, but in a fun, exhilarating way. it's then that you spot jake and heeseung. they don’t blend into the crowd, and your eyes are drawn to them. they’re too tall and handsome to be at this party. 
heeseung approaches you first, a lopsided grin on his face. "hey, y/n! having fun?" he slurs slightly, his breath smelling of alcohol.
you laugh, finding his drunken self amusing. "yeah, a blast! how about you?"
heeseung nods enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "totally. i'm gonna get another drink, though. see you in a bit!" he winks and stumbles away, leaving you alone with jake.
jake stands there, drink in hand, looking slightly more composed but still nervous. he meets your eyes, and for once, doesn't immediately look away.
"hey, jake," you say, taking a step closer. "enjoying the party?"
he nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "yeah, it's fine.”
you laugh softly as he glances around the crowd, obviously not use to being around so many people yet, “yeah it’s a lot. but it’s good to see you out for once. you never wanted to go out with us in high school.” 
he takes a sip of his drink, gaining a bit more confidence. "it's good to see you too, yn. you look... really nice tonight."
you smile, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "thanks, jake. you look good too."
then jake speaks, but the music and people talking and yelling is too loud for you to hear. and you really want to hear everything he has to say. 
“let’s go somewhere quieter, it’s loud down here, right?” you yell so he can hear you. he nods and doesn’t say anything. 
you turn around and head upstairs, he follows along behind you. you feel his curiosity build. at the top of the stairs, you spot the bathroom and an idea forms in your mind. 
“actually, i need to go to the bathroom,” you laugh, placing a hand on his chest. “wait here, i won’t be long.” 
his eyes widen, but he nods, biting his lip. 
you enter the bathroom, but before you close the door you speak to him again, “actually, i have a favour to ask– could you unzip me? the zippers at the back and i can’t reach.” you gesture behind you. 
his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and nods, following you into the bathroom and closing the door behind you both. you make sure to lock the door. 
you turn so your back is facing him, the zipper on display for him, “just unzip it, please.”
jake hesitates but reaches up, grabbing the zipper and slowly pulls it down, your bare back on display for him. you smile at him once he pulls away and you turn around to face him completely. 
“jakey,” you tease the nickname, “have you thought about me since our conversation in your bedroom?”
jake gulps but nods, his eyes trying to meet yours, trying to look confident, “y-yes.” 
you smile sweetly at him, “what have you thought about?” you take a step back and then jump onto the bathroom counter, crossing your legs. jake eyes your bare legs, the way your dress bunched up at your waist to reveal more. 
“uh, just that i could make you cum, with my mouth.” 
you smile at him, though he’s too busy looking between your legs, your chest and the bathroom wall. “hm,” you pretend to think, “how about we start with you showing me how you can make yourself cum?” jake’s eyes shoot to yours at your suggestion, finally looking at your face since you’ve stepped foot in the bathroom. “i mean, only if you want. but i’d kill to see how you jerk off to the thought of me.” 
you hear jake swallow roughly, “okay.” 
you can’t help the devilish smile spread on your face at his one word, “take your cock out.” 
jake tries to hide his shock, barely believing that this is happening, as he starts to unbutton his jeans and shove them and his boxers down his leg. his semi hard cock springs up, he’s obviously aroused just from unzipping your dress halfway. he’s so easy to get flustered that it turns you on– you know this will be fun. 
“show me how desperate you are.” 
jake’s mouth goes dry at your words as they send a thrill through his body. he reaches down and wraps his hand around his throbbing cock, giving it a few tentative strokes to make it completely hard and needy. 
“that’s it, dirty boy,” you coo, encouraging him, “spit on it. show me exactly how you touch yourself.” 
jake moves so his hand is under his plump lips, and then lets a dribble of saliva pool down onto his palm. he brings his hand back to his hard cock and starts to jerk his cock now. it glides more smoothly now, and jake feels the urge to buck into his hand. 
“do you think about me all the time when your little dick gets hard, jakey?” 
jake’s cheeks burn, but he can’t deny your words, “yes…” he whispers hoarsely into the bathroom. 
“speak louder, jakey– i wanna be able to hear you.” 
“yes, i think about you.” 
you chuckle, it’s only just the beginning but you seem to have him wrapped around your finger.
“and what am i doing? when you think of me?” 
“you touching me, sucking me.” jake manages to croak out, his voice thick with arousal. 
as jake starts stroking himself faster, his breath comes in short gasps. you watch him with hooded eyes, a cruel smile playing on your lips, “you’ll only ever be able to think about me touching you,” you purr to him from your perched spot on the counter, “i only touch real men, men who can last and fill me up. and you…” you shake your head, looking straight at his hard cock, “you’ll never be able to satisfy me.” 
jake whimpres, his hips bucking involuntarily, “i want to please you.” 
you laugh coldly, “please me? you? with that tiny dick? you won’t fill me up. and the way you’re jerking off right now, you won’t last long enough to even try.” 
your taunts spur him on, his hand moving faster and faster. he bites his lip to stifle a moan, wanting to prove you wrong in this little game, but the more he tries to hold back, the closer he gets to the edge. 
“see, you won’t even last with just your hand, how would you be able to last in my pussy?” 
“i- i would try.” jake whimpers out, his eye is threatening to close. his hand starts to slow, wanting to last longer for you. 
you hum at the action, “good boy.” you dig your hand into your thigh, trying to control your own arousal, trying to pretend like you aren’t turned on at all. “now think that it’s me touching you. that it’s my hands stroking your hard cock up and down, getting you close to the edge.” 
you can tell jake starts to think exactly what you tell him, you stand from your position on the counter, you let your face nuzzle in between his neck, your warm breath sends shivers down his spine. “that’s it, pretend it’s me and my spit all over your cock.” jake whimpers out at your words so you continue, “you’re mine to play with, right?” 
“y-yes,” jake nods up and down, his thumb brushing over his sensitive slit before he continues to jerk his cock. 
you can’t say it– due to this character in this game you’re playing with him– but he looks so hot. the way he’s pathetically thrusting into his own palm, covering in his own spit and precum. his lip is tucked in between his teeth, his styled hair has fallen into his eyes. his whimpers and moans as he gets closer to his climax. 
“cum for me now, jakey. let it go like a good boy.” you whisper to him, “this is the only way you’ll ever get off– by jerking off so pathetically while i degrade you.” 
your words push him over the edge. jake cries out, a curse followed by your name. his body tensing as he spills his release, coating his hand and thighs with his cum. you step away from him, trying to ignore the way your pussy is clenching around nothing at the sight. because this is definitely a sight to see. 
“what a mess you’ve made,” you tsk at him, pretending to be disgusted by him, “but i think you need to prove that you can do better– hold out longer. because then maybe, you’d someday get to feel my pussy around that pathetic cock of yours.”
your words make him whimper out. the combination of humiliation, degradation and his intense orgasm leaves jake reeling. he leans against the wall of the bathroom, trying to catch his breath as he’s covered in his own cum and saliva. 
he watches you reach behind you and zip up your dress easily, quickly fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror before you smile at him one last time. 
“now clean up your mess and get yourself together, jakey. we don’t want anyone knowing what happened here, do we?” 
with that, you unlock the door and stride out of the bathroom, leaving jake alone to process what just happened. your heart is still racing and your body feels dissatisfied and yearning for more. but you know that jake has awakened something deep within you– and you can’t wait to play with him again.
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you walk into the kitchen the next morning, the light almost blinding after last night's party. the smell of coffee and bacon fills the air, but it does little to ease the pounding in your head. you see jake, joy, and heeseung already sitting at the table, all looking as rough as you feel.
"well, don't you all look lovely," joy's mother says with a chuckle, examining the four of you all hungover and tired. 
as you sit down at the table in front of jake you try to muster a smile and say, "hi, jake," but he doesn't acknowledge you. he stares down at his plate, pushing his food around with a fork. the cold shoulder stings more than you'd like to admit, and you can feel a tightness in your chest.
you focus on your breakfast, determined not to let the hurt show. the last thing you want is for joy or heeseung to pick up on the tension. you take a sip of coffee, hoping it will jolt you back to life, but it only makes your stomach churn.
heeseung groans dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "hyunjin's parties never disappoint, huh?"
joy laughs, though it sounds more like a wince. "yeah, remind me to never drink that much again."
under the table, you poke jake with your foot to get him to look at you, he briefly does, but his warm eyes are now cold and glaring before he looks down at his plate again. 
you nod along, forcing yourself to join in the conversation. "definitely a night to remember... or forget."
jake stays silent, not looking at you again. you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to understand what went wrong. heeseung and joy are too wrapped up in their own misery to notice the silent exchange between you and jake. 
you keep your head down, focusing on your food instead. 
after breakfast, you sit back in your chair, hoping the food will settle your uneasy stomach. heeseung stretches and yawns. "how about a movie? something low volume to help with these headaches."
everyone nods in agreement, except for jake. he stands up, his plate still half full. "i'm going back to bed," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze.
you watch him walk away, a mix of frustration and hurt bubbling inside you. "i'll be right back," you tell joy and heeseung. "need to use the bathroom."
you hurry upstairs, your heart pounding. you catch jake just as he's about to slip into his room. without thinking, you reach out and grab his upper arm, forcing him to turn around and face you. his eyes are still cold, distant.
"jake," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "what's going on? why are you ignoring me?"
he looks away, his jaw tight. "i'm not ignoring you. just tired."
"no, you're not," you insist, stepping closer, not wanting anyone to hear. "you've been avoiding me since last night. do you regret what we did?"
jake finally meets your gaze, you can see the conflict in his eyes. once he sees your concerned ones, his cold expression starts to melt and blends into the usual, shy and embarrassed one. 
“talk to me, jake.” 
he sighs, giving in to easily to you like always, “it’s just… you left so quick. i didn’t even get to say goodbye.” 
instantly you realize why he’s upset– your actions flashing in your head from the night before. you bite your lip in frustration at yourself, suddenly you were the one to be embarrassed. you understood how upsetting it can be for the other person to just leave so quick with no aftercare or reassurance. you want to blame the alcohol for your actions the night before, but that’s no excuse. you should’ve stayed for a few minutes. 
“you’re right, jake.” you state, his eyes meeting yours in surprise, “i should’ve stayed longer. i’m sorry– that wasn’t right of me. we should’ve talked more about what we are doing and how we feel about it. you know nothing i said during it was true right? like… about your dick and stuff. it’s all just for fun.” 
jake nods, unsure of what to say but is agreeing with you, so you continue. though, you can’t tell if he truly understands that you don’t mean the words you say during your time together. 
“besides staying longer, checking in on each other, is there anything else you would want? are you okay with what we are doing? with what happened last night?” 
jake gulps but stands up straight, looking at you, determined, “yes, i'm okay with what we are doing–more than okay.” his confession makes you smile, “but, i want to touch you, make you feel good, not just me.”
you bite your lip and think about it, “okay, we can do that– just give me time okay?” 
you usually don’t let the people you are hooking up with touch you or see you naked until you are 100% comfortable with the person. when you trust the person. but you’ve known jake for majority of your life… why would this be any different with him. you could trust him… right? 
“yeah, sure. all the time, just for you.” 
you meet his eyes at his words. he’s always so sweet to you, it makes you feel more guilty for the night before. 
“okay jakey, i’ll see you later.”
“see you later, y/n.” 
jake steps into his room and closes the door with a final wave. leaving you with your pounding headache and nausea. you sigh and head back downstairs to rest on the couch with joy and heeseung. you’ll worry about your situation with jake later when you can think straight.
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joy bursts into her bedroom with a squeal, her energy contagious. "oh my god, and i forgot to tell you what happened at hyunjin's party the other day."
you lift your head from the bed, curiosity piqued. "oh god, what?"
joy plops down beside you, eyes wide with excitement. "jeno and i kissed."
you sit up, mirroring her excitement. "what? no way! how did that happen?"
she grins, her cheeks flushing. "we were both pretty drunk, and we ended up talking in the kitchen. one thing led to another, and... yeah."
"oh my god, joy, that's huge!" you exclaim, leaning in closer. "how was it? did he kiss you first? did you like it?"
joy nods, her eyes sparkling. "yeah, he kissed me first. and it was... amazing. but now things are kinda weird between us."
"weird how?" you ask, your mind racing with possibilities.
"he's been acting all distant and awkward," she says with a sigh. "i don't know what to do."
you squeeze her hand reassuringly. "maybe he just needs time to process it. you should talk to him."
she nods, her smile returning. "yeah, you're right. i'll talk to him."
you both fall back onto the bed, giggling. joy turns to you, her expression softening. "ugh, i can't believe i forgot to tell you that. we tell each other everything. i forget you can't read my mind sometimes. i'm so glad we are best friends."
she pulls you into a tight hug, and you hug her back just as tightly. "no secrets between us, ever," joy says firmly.
"right... of course," you reply, but your mind drifts to jake.
you hug joy a little closer, feeling the weight of your own secret.
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the heat is unbearable by the end of july, and you're grateful for the relief of joy's family's pool. you and joy have been lounging in the cool water all day, floating lazily and enjoying the rare stillness. the sun beats down, relentless, but the water makes it bearable.
jake and heeseung come out, both in their bathing suits. you can't help but check out jake's body. his muscles are more defined, his skin tanned. he catches your gaze and blushes, looking away quickly. it makes you smile. even after cumming in front of you, he’s still so shy. 
the day drags on, the sun slowly sinking in the sky, casting long shadows over the backyard. heeseung eventually heads home, throwing a casual wave your way. joy decides to go inside, “i need to wash this chlorine out of my hair or else it’ll feel disgusting.” you nod, watching her leave, and suddenly you and jake are alone.
the silence between you holds tension. you float closer to him, your movements slow and deliberate. he seems nervous, his eyes darting everywhere but at you. you find it endearing, his shyness, his awkwardness. he can’t look at you in a bathing suit, how could he look at you naked?
"it's nice out here," you say softly, breaking the silence.
he nods, glancing at you briefly. "yeah, it is."
you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he's holding himself so tightly. you move closer, your fingers brushing against his under the water. he tenses, but doesn't pull away.
"you've changed a lot, jakey," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
he finally looks at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable. "so have you."
you tilt your head to the side, intrigued, “how so?” 
he hesitates, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "you're more... confident. and, uh, you seem happier."
you try not to frown as his words bring you back to when you were in highschool. your parents were going through a divorce, your idiot highschool boyfriend cheated on you and you weren’t doing well in school. the only thing you really had was joy and her family that welcomed you in so warmly. you guess you forgot that jake had seen you at such a dark time. 
"yeah, those were tough times," you admit softly, your fingers trailing absently through the water. "but things got better."
he nods, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "i'm glad they did. you deserve to be happy."
"thanks, jake. that means a lot."
he shifts closer, his movements tentative and careful. "i always wanted to say something back then, but i didn't know how."
you raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "say what?"
"that you weren't alone," he says quietly. "that i was there for you, even if you didn't see it."
the vulnerability in his voice makes your heart ache. you reach out, your fingers brushing against his arm. "that’s sweet of you, jakey."
he looks at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
“you said, you wanted to make me feel good too, right jakey?” you ask, your voice practically purring. 
jake gulps at the sudden change in atmosphere. the sun is dipping down in the sky, you’re in a bathing suit that brings out the colour of your eyes, and now you’re talking about him making you feel good. he feels like he’s in heaven. 
“y-yeah, if you want.” he replies shakily. 
you smile at his sweetness once again, “then go on and touch me.” you command, “prove to me that those fingers of yours are good for something.” 
jake hesitates, knowing that his pleasure is entirely dependent on yours now. but slowly, he reaches out and places his hands on your hips– the first time he’s ever touched you. “if your fingers can’t make me feel good, then what hope does your cock have?” 
you watch jake’s face, enjoying the desperation and determination in his eyes.
slowly, jake’s hand goes under the way, tracing the hem of your bathing suit bottoms. you have to bite your lip to hold back your gasp. his fingers trace over the cloth of your swimsuit, until they hover over where your clit is. 
jake begins to rub in slow circles, gently at first, then with more pressure as you struggle to hold back a soft moan. 
“hm,” you pretend to scold him, “do you even know how to touch a woman, or have you been too busy jerking off all by yourself?” 
“i, i know how to pleasure a woman– i know how to pleasure you, i can pleasure you.” jake is determined as his fingers continue to rub your clit faster. you briefly close your eyes, the water around your core turns you on more. 
“you should, because imagine how embarrassing it would be for heeseung to come out here and see me having to fake my moans because of you.” 
jake’s movements slow for a moment and you realize that you’ve found another way to play with him. a sly smirk spreads across your face, “didn’t realize that anyone could walk out her and find you with your fingers against my pussy?” 
“n-no,” jake whimpers out, his eyes darting from your face to the backdoor. 
you laugh at his worry, “relax,” you tell him seriously, “they can’t see what we are doing under the water– it’s too dark.” 
he nods, and picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit. 
you let out a moan, “that’s it, you’re doing better than i thought, jakey.” you glance down at where his hand is curving against your body. 
because truthfully, he was making you feel good. he was alternating between small circles and moving your clit side to side. the friction from your bathing suit rubbing against your clit made you squirm in the water. 
you reach up, deciding to reward jake, and slowly pull the straps of your bathing suit top down, letting the fabric fall away to reveal your breasts. jake’s gaze flicks to them, and your breath quickens. he’s looking at your breasts like they are the most beautiful thing in the world. 
“you want to suck on these, don’t you?” you ask, running your fingers over your nipples, now hard from the cool water and his gaze. “beg me, and maybe i’ll let you.” 
without missing a beat, “please, y/n, let me pleasure you. i want to taste you so bad.” 
you smirk, satisfied with his answer, “good enough, let’s see what your mouth can do.” 
you guide his head towards you, and he takes a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently at first, then with more fervour as you moan quietly. your hands tangle in his long hair, holding him close to you. 
“t-that’s it, that’s good.” your voice betrays you as you speak. you can’t forget who’s in control here. 
jake’s tongue flicks and teases, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. you pull his closer, his fingers on your clit don’t stop. you start to grind your hips against his hand, your breathing becoming ragged as jake brings you closer to the edge. 
"oh, fuck, i'm getting close," you whisper, my voice hoarse with desire. “i want to cum all over those pathetic little fingers of yours."
jake’s tongue works faster, knowing that your orgasm is close and with a final grind of your hips, you cum. your body shakes with pleasure as you let your head rest in jake’s neck to muffle your moans. he holds you firmly against himself, letting you ride out your orgasm. 
finally, you pull away from him, panting and your eyes mix with satisfaction, “good boy,” you whisper, running your fingers through your hair, getting it out of your face. 
jake fights the urge to kiss you, knowing that it would be wrong (it’s all you want). so instead he asks, “are you okay?” 
you want to laugh but you’re too worn out from your orgasm, “yeah i am, i’m just hungry.” 
it’s jake’s turn to laugh, “you want to get out and get some dinner.” he offers you his hand to help pull you out of the pool. 
you take his hand, letting him help you out, “yeah, i’m starving.” 
you both climb out of the pool, the cool evening air hitting your damp skin. he hands you a towel, and you wrap it around yourself, shivering slightly.
as you head towards the house, you glance back at him. "you coming?"
he nods, following you inside. there’s a look in his eye that sends a shiver down your sprint. it’s a mix of infatuation and adoration and it scares you. he’s your best friend's little brother. what you two have going on is only a game, meant to be for fun. 
but then why do you have this fluttering feeling in your chest everytime you see him?
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"i can't believe you're leaving me here," you complain, sprawled across joy's bed as she packs to leave for the cottage with her family.
joy rolls her eyes, stuffing clothes into her bag. "it's only for three days."
"yeah, but that feels like a month to me."
joy laughs, shaking her head. "when we get back, we'll continue our summer of fun. we only have a month left."
you groan, letting your head fall back against the pillows. "don't remind me."
you watch as joy zips up her bag, her movements brisk and efficient. she glances at you, a fond smile tugging at her lips. you know she's excited about the trip, but the thought of being without her for three whole days feels unbearable. you wonder what you’ll do without her… and jake.
"i should go home," you say, pushing yourself up from the bed. "it's getting late."
joy turns to you, pulling you into a tight hug. "text me if you need anything."
"of course," you reply, hugging her back just as tightly.
you pull away and head for the door, it's only three days, but it feels like an eternity. but, maybe it’ll give you some time to think about what’s happening between you and jake. 
you wake up to your phone buzzing on your nightstand. you groggily reach for it and squint at the screen, reading joy's message.
 joy : [yn, jake isn't feeling good at all so we are leaving him home alone for the weekend. would you mind checking up on him sometimes?? thank you so much ily]
you sigh and rub your eyes before typing back,
you : [yeah sure, have fun this weekend]
lying back down, you think about how awful it is for jake to not be feeling well during the summer. you hope he's okay, and a pang of concern hits you as you imagine him alone in the house.
later in the day, you decide to bring him some soup for dinner, knowing he probably won’t cook for himself. 
so when the sun starts to set again, you walk up to the familiar path on the door to joy’s house and knock softly, hoping jake is awake and feeling better. when there’s no answer you point, and take out your set of keys, unlocking the door with the spare key that had given you years ago. 
you walk inside the house, it’s eerily quiet without the usual chatter and noises of people being home. heading upstairs, you stop in front of jake’s bedroom door, which is closed. you knock softly, “jake? it’s y/n.”
here’s a pause before you hear his muffled voice, “just go home, y/n.”
you’re taken aback. “i have soup for you.”
“not hungry,” he mumbles.
you sigh, pushing the door open anyway. his room is dark, the curtains drawn tightly shut. you see him lying in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face. “jake, are you okay?” you start, reaching out to feel his forehead. “let me take your temperature. oh my god you must be really sick– have you taken any medicine?” 
he shrugs you off aggressively, sitting up abruptly. “i’m not sick!” he snaps.
you’re taken aback and confused. “but, joy said you aren’t feeling well…”
“well, i lied, okay? so you can leave. i’m fine,” jake says, his voice laced with frustration, but his eyes can’t stay on yours for long. 
you sit on jake's bed, refusing to leave when he’s like this, "why did you lie to them, jake? what's wrong?"
he sighs, covering his face with his hands. "i just needed to be alone for a while."
"what's happened, jake?"
"nothing happened, y/n."
silence falls between you, the room feeling heavy with unspoken words. you watch him, his shoulders tense, his face hidden. you both sit there, processing the weight of the moment.
finally, you break the silence. "is it about me? us?"
jake looks up at you, his eyes filled with something that tells you you’re right. 
"well, what is it? i'm here now, let's talk."
jake sighs but sits up straight, trying his best to look at you. "it's just, i don't understand what this is. i mean, why me?"
"what do you mean why you?"
"because there's so many other better guys that you could get, l-like heeseung."
you tilt your head, confused. "why would i like heeseung?"
"because he's like a real man, one that i'm not. one that could please you a-and fill you up." his words echo the ones you speak when you fool around with each other, and your heart aches knowing that he’s been taking your words to heart. that he’s locked himself away in his bedroom for the weekend because of you. 
you smile and explain yourself, "jake, i don't like guys like heeseung. my university is filled with guys like heeseung. my attraction is to guys like you, kind, sweet ones that have no idea they're hot. if i liked heeseung, i would be with him and not you, right?"
he shrugs, "i guess."
"i think you're insanely hot, jake, you know that, right?"
jake looks at you finally, shocked. "you think i'm hot?"
you giggle, "of course, that's why i'm doing this thing with you. why’d you think i was doing this with you if you didn't think i was attracted to you?"
he shrugs, "because i'm like the only one around really in this small town."
"jake, i am attracted to you, and only you."
jake smiles, "i'm attracted to you too, y/n– you know i think you're beautiful."
it's your turn to blush now but you sigh, “the things i say to you when we fool around aren’t true. it only makes this, foreplay thing, fun, right?” you feel the need to explain yourself, “you like what we do together, right?” and jake nods immediately and it makes you want to giggle, but instead you reach your hand out, your thumb rubbing against his warm cheek. it’s cute how he instantly melts into your touch. he looks so pretty against your hand. 
you can’t help but lean in close to him, leaving only inches between both of your faces from connecting, “you know, jake,” you whisper to him, “if you want something, all you have to do is ask.” you see confusion cross his eyes as he takes in your words, “just ask, and if i say no, then we can do something else, no harm done, right?” jake nods slowly as he analyses the meaning of your words, “just ask.” 
jake swallows roughly, fighting his inner urge to look away from you– but he keeps his eyes on yours when he speak, “can i kiss you?” 
you smile at his simple request. how could you think he’d ask something dirty of you (though you would’ve said yes to anything to him), when the jake you know has always been so sweet. 
you don’t answer him but instead lean in so your lips meet his. they’re soft and warm. and the kiss is sweet and romantic. your heart begins to palpitate, and it scares you. you've never felt like this when you've kissed someone before. the sensation is new, and thrilling and slightly overwhelming. 
you pull away first, your breath slightly unsteady. you look at jake, whose eyes take a while to flutter open again, clearly so entranced by your kiss. his gaze is filled with wonder and a hint of disbelief, as if he's trying to process the reality of what just happened.
“i told you, just ask.” you smile at him, your voice as sweet as him. 
jake gulps, and you can tell he wants to speak again, and you wait until he organizes in his head about how he wants to say it. he looks at you again, his eyes looking directly into yours, “can i eat you out? i want to. i want to know what you taste like.” 
your eyes widen at his request, a shiver runs through your body. the side of him that you’ve been craving to see, a glimpse of the confident, assertive man that you know he is when you’re not around. he’s finally taking control, being dominant, and you don’t stop him. 
without further prompting, jake moves toward, getting on his knees on his floor as you sit on his bed. he kneels between your legs, his hands gently pushing your thighs apart. his hands run up your thighs, “wanna make you feel good, y/n.” jake says to you, his voice unwavering. 
“then do it,” you tell him. 
his fingers hook inside your shorts, pulling them down in one swift movement, leaving your core bare before him. you feel exposed to him as he lets his eyes scan your pussy. he lets out a groan once you’re bare before him. 
his tongue darts out, teasingly light as it flicks against your inner thigh. you inhale sharply at the sensation, goosebumps erupting across your skin. he takes his time, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin of your legs, inching ever closer to your center. he’s teasing is so experienced. 
finally, his mouth reaches your core, and he wastes no time in tasting you. his tongue delves into your folds, lapping at your juices greedily. moans escape your lips as his talented tongue teases your clit, circling and flicking it with just the right amount of pressure.
"fuck, you taste so sweet," he murmurs between licks, his breath hot against your soaked lips. "i could eat you out forever."
your hands tangle in his hair, guiding him closer, encouraging him to continue, “would you like that, jakey? being in between my legs forever?” you tease him, wanting to see how far he would push back into the whole dominant thing. you pant, arching your back as he sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he pulls and tugs at the sensitive bud. it makes you cry out. 
“fuck yes, could be here all the time,” jake mutters out against your now soaked pussy. “do you like my mouth on you, y/n? like the way my tongue fucks you?” 
you feel a wave of arousal wash through you and head straight to your core at his words. you’ve never seen this side of him before. and you’re already enjoying it so much. 
"yes...feels so good," you manage to utter, “i love your mouth on my pussy so much. i had no idea you were this good at it.”
jake moans in response, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. he adds a finger, then two, thrusting them into your tight hole as he continues to work your clit with his tongue. you buck your hips, riding his face as waves of pleasure build within you.
"oh fuck, I'm getting close," you warn him, your body trembling on the edge. "don't stop, jake! please!" the use of his full name makes him eat you out faster and harder. 
He grunts in response, holding you firmly in place as he eats you furiously. and then, with one final swirl of his tongue and a hard suck on your clit, you explode around his mouth. your thighs tightening around his head. "hh god, jake!" you scream, your pussy clenching and pulsing as you ride out a powerful orgasm.
jake laps at your juices, reveling in the taste of your release. he continues to lick and kiss your sensitive flesh as the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through your body.
"that was...incredible," you breathe, before he leans up and kisses you, without even needing to ask– it turns you on more. you can taste yourself on his lips, a wicked reminder of the pleasure he just gave you.
“i’m glad you liked it, baby,” his pet name for you makes your legs squirm, “but i really want to know what your mouth feels like wrapped around my cock.” 
you smirk up at him, loving this side of him. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss that is rougher and sloppier than the other ones. 
you pull away first, a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths before it snaps. his breath comes in sharp gasps and you know he's eager for more. with a slow, deliberate movement, you reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open before tugging down the zipper. his hips help you ease his pants and boxers over them, freeing his hard cock.
"fuck, yes," jake breathes, his eyes fixed on your face as you take him in your hands. his length is impressive, thick and veiny, the head slick with pre-cum. you give it a teasing squeeze, enjoying the way he bucks slightly into your grip.
"you like this, baby?" you coo, stroking him slowly, teasingly. "you like the idea of my mouth on you?" without waiting for an answer, you lean forward and swipe your tongue across the tip, tasting the small drop that beads there. "mmm, delicious," you hum, taking him deeper into your mouth, sucking gently.
jake's hands thread into your hair, guiding but not forcing. "fuck, baby, that feels so good. I've fantasized about this for so long. your pretty mouth wrapped around me, sucking me dry." His voice is hoarse with desire, his hips twitching as he tries to suppress the urge to thrust into your hot, wet mouth.
you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, your lips gliding over sensitive flesh. One hand cups his heavy balls, massaging gently, your thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind them. "You like that, Jake? Want more?" You hum against him, vibing your question straight to his groin.
he whimpers, his grip tightening in your hair. "yes, yes, don't stop. feels too good to stop." he bucks his hips, fucking your face gently, moaning as your tongue teases and flicks. "you're so good at this, baby. knew you'd be amazing." his words are punctuated by sharp intakes of breath as your tongue swirls and dances.
“hm, you’re such a desperate boy.” 
jake scoffs as he looks down at you, suddenly roughly grabbing your hair for you to look at him, “open your mouth wider, i’m gonna fuck your mouth.” he understands the game you want to play, understands that you want to see how dominant he can get. he knows you want to be forced into submission. 
you have to hold back your whimper at his words as they make your pussy clamp around nothing. 
you do as he says, opening your mouth wider for him to slide his entire cock inside of your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. 
“fuck,” a guttural sound leaves his mouth once you enclose your lips around his cock, your throat enwrapping his cock. he tangles a hand into your hair, slowly guiding his cock back out of you. “i wanna hear you gag on me, baby.” 
you moan around his cock, his words adding to the fire that’s lit in your abdomen. 
jake’s hips move gently at first, sliding in and out of your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat every time. “that’s it baby,” he encourages, his voice harsh as he looks down at you, “take it nice and deep. that’s what i want.”
As his rhythm increases, you sense his building orgasm, and you hum, the vibration making his eyes roll back. his once quiet bedroom was filled with his grunts and curses and the wet sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth. 
you tap on his thigh and he releases your hair, letting your body lax on the bed and letting you catch your breath. you pull away, a stand of saliva connects your lips to his cock. 
“want you to cum in my pussy, jakey.” 
instantly, you can feel the atmosphere in jake’s room change. he returns to his awkward, shy self and he can’t look at you anymore. you partly wonder if he doesn’t want to have sex with you. 
“i mean, we don’t have to have sex if you don’t wan-” you start to give him an out. 
“- i want to!” jake cuts you off with a rush, and he immediately looks embarrassed, “i mean, i’d like to, if you want to.” 
you smile at him, “are you sure?” 
“yes, it’s just…” jake trails off again, having to gain the courage to say, “i’m a virgin.” 
your jaw unconsciously drops. you’re surprised to hear his confession. you thought he was experienced given how attractive he is. but his admission only makes him more desirable to you. 
"don't worry, jake. we can take it slow," you assure him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "i really want this, and I want you."
he nods, his eyes nervous but full of desire. you can sense his eagerness, and it makes your pussy throb with anticipation. slowly, you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off of your head, leaving yourself completely bare to his eyes. 
jake’s eyes widen as he takes in your body. you watch the brown orbs circle your entire core, watching as they move up and down your curves. it makes you giggle. 
“are you gonna get undressed too, jakey? or just me?” 
“n-no, i will,” jake stutters and takes off his own shirt. it reveals his abs that you’ve so desperately wanted to touch and lick the other week in the pool. so now that you’re alone, and you’ve given up some of your vulnerability to him, you reach out and trace the hardlines of his abs. his skin is warm and his chest is practically panting from being so turned on. 
“you’re really so beautiful, jakey.” 
you hear him gulp as he watches you touch him. it turns you on so much to see how quickly he can go from being in control, to being wrapped around your finger again. he’s so versatile that it makes your pussy throb with all the ideas you can do with him. 
you’re watching his adam's apple bob as he swallows, his eyes following your every movement. you push him down onto his bed so his head is on his pillow. you straddle his thighs, feeling the hardness of his dick pressed against your stomach. his hands rest tentatively on his sides, as if he's not sure whether to touch you or not. you take his hands in yours and place them firmly on your body, encouraging him to hold you.
"i want you to feel every inch of me," you whisper, grinding your hips against him. his dick slides against your clit, making you gasp at the pleasure shooting through your body.
"you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with need.
you smile, feeling powerful and desired. you lean down, pressing your breasts against his chest as you capture his lips in a passionate kiss. his hands move eagerly over your body now, exploring your curves. you moan into his mouth, your tongue dancing with his.
breaking the kiss, you sit up straight, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. "touch me, jakey," you encourage him, guiding his fingers to pinch and roll your sensitive nipples. "that's it… fuck. you know how sensitive my nipples are.” 
jake’s eyes are fixed on your breasts as he watches his fingers play with your nipples, making them harden even more. you arch your back, offering yourself to him, and his breath quickens as he takes in the sight.
"i want you inside me," you whisper, positioning yourself above his throbbing cock. you hover just above him, rubbing your swollen clit against the tip of his dick, making him groan and buck his hips instinctively.
"not yet," you tease, denying him entry. "i want to feel you fill me up first."
he nods, biting his lip as he tries to control his urge to thrust into you. you smile at his eagerness, loving how responsive he is to your slightest touch and instruction.
slowly, you lower yourself onto his shaft, engulfing his thick length inside your tight, wet pussy. you moan loudly as you sink down, feeling him stretch you deliciously. "oh fuck, jake... you feel bigger than i imagined," you pant, throwing your head back in pleasure. jake groans out as he fills you up. the way his name rolls off your tongue makes his cock twitch inside of you. 
jakee watches, mesmerized, as your body rises and falls, his dick sliding in and out of your slick core. "you look so beautiful riding me," he breathes, his hands gripping your hips as if he wants to pull you even closer.
you quicken your pace, riding him with abandon. your breasts bounce with each thrust, your nipples rubbing against his chest. "does my tight pussy feel good around your cock, jakey?" you ask, grinding your hips in circles.
"so good... so fucking good," he grunts, his eyes rolling back slightly as he loses himself in the sensations. "i've fantasized about this... about you..."
hearing his admission sends a thrill through your body. you lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you pound your pussy onto his cock, driving him deeper with each thrust. "you like my pussy, don't you?"
"fuck yes... it's so wet and hot... feels like heaven," he moans, his fingers digging into your hips as if he wants to leave marks. he gulps and you can tell he’s thinking about saying something, your hips enticing him to say it, “you like my cock? the way it stretches you? fills you? i bet, ugh, you can feel how hard it is inside of you.” 
“mhm,” you whimper out to him, loving this side of him, loving when it comes out and makes your pussy squeeze around his cock tighter. 
you sit up straight, your hands reaching behind to grip his thighs as you bounce on his lap. "tell me if you're close, jake. i want you to cum inside me."
he nods vigorously, his eyes locked on where your bodies are joined. "i'm close... so close..." he observes how wet your inner thighs are as you bounce up and down on him. 
You increase your speed, your pussy juices coating his shaft as you slide up and down so quickly, “cum for me jake, fill my pussy with your hot cum.” 
jake grunts out, moaning your name, he arches his back, his body tensing as he releases his load deep inside of you. you feel his cock twitching with each spurt, sending ripples of pleasure through your own body. "that's it, baby... fill me up," you encourage him, continuing to ride him through his orgasm. your own orgasm following his. the twitching of his cock releasing his sperm makes your pussy clamp down, your body shakes and your hands grip onto his chest harder as the orgasm washes through you. 
finally, he collapses back against the bed, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. you sit atop him, feeling his cum leaking out of your well-fucked pussy. you lean down, kissing him softly. "that was incredible," you murmured against his lips. 
he smiles, a mix of satisfaction and awe on his face. "you have no idea how long i've wanted that..."
you trail kisses along his jawline, a sense of power coursing through you. "i think i do,"
you slowly get off of jake and lay beside him, your chest starting to slow it’s movement as you catch your breath. you’re suddenly aware of the cooling sweat on your skin and the sticky mess between your thighs. the post-nut haze starts to lift as you register the reality of what just happened. you scan the room for your clothes, hoping to dress quickly and slip away. but jake is quicker than you. 
jake stands up and goes to the bathroom, wetting a cloth and coming back to your position in bed. he sits beside you, and looks you in the eye for permission to clean you. you nod silently, and let him open your legs. he gently wipes the saliva and cum off of you. the feeling is intense as he takes care of you. 
he presses a soft kiss onto your knee cap and you feel like your heart is gonna explode in your chest from sheer panic. this is all too vulnerable, all too intimate to what you are used to. 
when jake goes back to the bathroom to clean himself, you hurry and dress again. you beeline straight to the front door of the house– not looking at any family pictures on the wall, not being able to bear to see your best friend's face right now. 
padding softly towards the door, you stop to look back one last time. it was just sex, you tell yourself. and yet, you can't shake the feeling that something has shifted between you and Jake. 
just as you begin to pull the door open, you hear his voice call out, soft but insistent, “wait y/n!” your heart leaps into your throat and you turn, seeing jake standing there, fully clothed now. “i have to tell you something.” 
your heart feels like a lump in your throat as you swallow roughly, “what is it?” 
he takes a deep breath, his expression vulnerable. "i like you, y/n. i've always liked you since we were kids. i've just never said anything because i've been too shy and– and insecure. you deserve someone better than me."
your heart aches at his words. "jake, no. you're the best person i know. you don't deserve someone as awful as me." it breaks your heart to see him so insecure, especially around you. you've noticed how he is different when you aren't there, how he's more outgoing and confident.
he shakes his head, his eyes filled with earnestness. "no, y/n, that's not true. you're amazing, and i wish you could see that. i've always been afraid to tell you how i feel because i didn't think i was good enough for you."
"but jake, you are good enough. you're more than good enough." you squeeze his hand, trying to convey just how much you mean it. "i've been hurt before. that's why i don't get into relationships. i'm scared to be vulnerable, to let someone in."
"i understand," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "but i’ll be here for you, whenever you need. i want to be with you.”
you swallow, "but what about joy?"
he hesitates, then says, "i know it could be complicated, but we can figure it out together."
you nod, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. "i like you too, jake. more than i realized. but i'm scared." 
jake smiles softly at you and wraps his arms around you. you let yourself melt into his arms, taking in his scent and warmth. you feel safe for the first time in your life. feeling safe and being held is all you’ve ever wanted. you didn’t want to be the one in control all of the time. jake allows your walls to be down– allows you to be vulnerable and safe at the same time.
"i'm scared too," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but i think we can make this work if we try."
you smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "i hope so."
you leave his room, your heart lighter but an anxiety settling upon you. you hope no one gets hurt in this. you’ve been hurt too many times and you would hate to see the ones you care most about being hurt. 
 as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. maybe, just maybe, you could be happy.
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you and jake have been seeing each other for a few weeks now, careful to keep things secret. it's not that you don't want anyone to know, but you're not sure how joy will react. she's your best friend, and jake is her little brother. the dynamic is complicated, to say the least. 
one evening, joy is hosting a small get-together at her place. a few friends from high school, some new ones from college, and, of course, jake and you. you and jake have gotten good at sneaking glances, sharing secret smiles, and brushing against each other in passing without anyone noticing.
but tonight, something feels different. the tension between you and jake is palpable, and you catch joy watching you both a few times with a curious look in her eyes. you try to play it cool, but it's hard when all you want is to be close to him.
at some point, jake and you meet in the hallway, away from everyone’s prying eyes. jake takes this opportunity to slip a hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. you smile at him, your heart fluttering at the simple touch. everything he seemed to do made your heart ache more for him. 
"what's going on here?"
the voice makes you rip your hands away from each other. but when you turn and see your best friend, so visibly angry and confused, you know it’s too late. 
you and jake freeze, exchanging a quick, nervous glance. you clear your throat, trying to come up with an explanation, but nothing comes to mind.
"uh, nothing," you stammer, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
joy narrows her eyes at you, then at jake. "nothing, huh? because it sure looked like something."
jake sighs, realizing there's no point in hiding it anymore. "joy, we need to talk."
joy raises an eyebrow. "yeah, i think we do." she crosses her arms over his chest, her eyes glaring at you both of you. 
jake takes a deep breath and looks at his sister, "joy, y/n and i have been seeing each other," he says, his voice steady but nervous.
joy's eyes widen even more. "what? since when?"
"a few weeks now," you admit, feeling the need to finally be honest.
joy looks between the two of you, her expression a mix of surprise, anger and confusion. "why didn't you tell me?"
"because we didn't know how you'd react," jake explains. "you're my sister, and y/n is your best friend. we didn't want to make things weird."
joy stands in her place, her gaze flickering between the two of you, “i can't even look at you right now, y/n. i have to go."
panic surges through you as joy turns to leave. "joy, no please, we can talk about this." you reach out and grab her wrist, desperation in your voice.
she snatches her wrist away, glaring at you. "talk about what? that you’ve been lying to me for weeks? i thought we told each other everything, y/n. this is too much."
without another word, joy storms off, heading back to her room and leaving her party and guests behind. the music and laughter feel distant and hollow as you stand there, guilt and regret washing over you.
you glance at jake, his expression mirroring your own feelings of hurt and regret. you both know the pain you've caused joy. the pain you’ve caused the only person who has stood by you your entire life. 
but jake grabs your hand again, comforting you. you know that you can’t leave this relationship with jake behind. you need to find a way for you to be truly happy with both siblings in your life.
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the next day, you find yourself knocking on joy’s bedroom door. the air still heavy with unresolved tension as she opens the door to see you. she groans and walks towards her bed, leaving the door open for you to enter. 
you sit across from joy on her bed, her expression softening as she takes a deep breath.
"i'm sorry for walking away like that," she begins, her voice quiet but sincere. "i've had some time to think, and i realize now that i wasn't upset about you and jake dating. i was upset because you kept it a secret from me. our whole friendship relies on knowing everything about each other."
you nod, feeling the weight of her words. "i'm sorry too, joy. i've been a bad friend. i didn't want to hurt you, but i didn't even know my own feelings towards jake. everything happened so fast, and i was scared."
joy reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "i understand. i just felt left out and betrayed, but i get it now. we all make mistakes,” she nods understandingly. 
"i promise i won't keep anything from you again," you say, your voice filled with determination. "you're my best friend, and i don't want to lose that."
joy smiles, a genuine warmth returning to her eyes. "i forgive you, y/n. let’s move past this, okay?” she opens her arms up, letting you wrap your own arms around her. the hug is tight and loving, like usual. 
as you both pull away, you notice jake standing at the door, a sheepish look on his face.
"i overheard your conversation," he admits, stepping into the room. "i'm really sorry too, joy. i never wanted to come between you two or cause any problems."
joy looks at her brother, then back at you, and smiles. "it's all good, jake. just promise me you'll take care of each other and be honest with me from now on."
"we promise," you both say in unison, causing joy to laugh.
"well, at least we will be sister-in-laws someday," she jokes, making you all laugh.
the thought of marriage might be far too soon, but as you stand there with your best friend and jake, the idea doesn't seem so far-fetched. the three of you hug on her bed. 
you know that maybe someday your best friend would become your sister-in-law, and her little brother would become your husband. for now, you're happy, and that's all that matters.
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@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)
stay safe everyone :)
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TAGLIST : @criminalyun @jaehoonii @sunpov @hollyoongs
@somaekk @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @idkwhyimheresworld
@starggukies @notevenheretbh1 @jenojammin @whyme11
@heelovesmeknot @lovingvoidgoatee @ks1ut @esloao
@lovesangyeon @thecowboy7 @n-omin @jakeswifez
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@021894s @ilubgyu @heeseungmyman @heartheejake
@xoxol3a @mosviqu @heeseungsbabyy @sakanelli-afc
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winter-hoof · 2 years
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As if 2023 hasn't been shitty enough so far, my cat Virtute had to be put to sleep today
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multifandomgirl08 · 1 month
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Welcoming Another Verstappen [Mini Verstappen Series]
Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)
Photo Credit: Pinterest/Tumblr
Format: Social Media
Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist
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ynverstappen
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Liked by maxverstappen1, sophiekumpen, and 428,916 others
ynverstappen Our secret got spilled a little early but I can't wait to meet you in July.
landonorris Championships = Number of children????
ynverstappen I can't confirm or deny that.
fan94 When Mama Verstappen is pregnant again!
fan23 How does she look so fucking radiant? Like, you just had a child less than 2 years ago.
fan37 Wait, didn’t Max just let this slip on the Team Redline stream this afternoon?
fan86 So, lukecraneoffical just unintentionally spilled the beans of Y/N's pregnancy without any knowledge.
fan69 Yeah fan86. Wish I heard what Y/N said when Max had his mic turned off.
May 25, 2027
maxverstappen1
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Liked by sophiekumpen, martingarrix, and 698,563 others
maxverstappen1 Welcome to the world Nikolaas Martin Verstappen. You surprised us by crossing the finished line early. Clocking in a time of 38 weeks.
landonorris I called dibs on the next kid being names after me. What happened?
maxverstappen1 Talk to my wife. She makes the rules.
martingarrix I'm honored that this little boy is named after me. maxverstappen1 liked this
christianhorner Congratulations Max and Y/N on the birth of another healthy baby boy. Wishing you all the best from myself and Geri.
fan39 Love that Y/N is in charge of naming all of the kids.
fan76 Just did a little math, 38 weeks... looks like we have ourselves a WDC baby!
July 9, 2027
ynverstappen
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Liked by oscarpiastri and 452,234 others
ynverstappen Happy Birthday to my oldest child. My first little boy. The kid who woke me up one day just to sit in Max's car and ask me, Mama when can I go get my super license like Papa? You bring joy to my life every day, I never knew what unconditional love was until the day that I met you.
landonorris If he wants his super license, he needs to learn from a real professional.
dannyric3fan Umm... Max is a real professional mate. Those WDCs weren't accidents. mstappenfan dannyric3fan Pretty sure that Lando is joking, no reason to turn this serious man.
charles_leclerc Super license? He's only 7!
mstappenfan85 Max started driving in Formula 1 when he was 17, so it's not that far away. Just another 11 years by FIA rules.
View all 745 comments
fan68 I know most people are over the whole Y/N isn't Nico's birth mom discussion. But it really tells you a lot about her that after she's had two kids with Max, she doesn't treat Nico differently than Nikita or Nikolaas. She loves all of them the same.
October 17, 2027
ynverstappen
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Liked by victoriaverstappen, sophiekumpen and 284,679 others
ynverstappen Happy Holidays from Belgium!
victoriaverstappen The boys look so cute in their matching pajamas.
ynverstappen Niki says thank you auntie for his Christmas gifts! victoriaverstappen 😂😂
View all 536 comments
fan87 How is it that all of Max's kids look exactly like him?
fan45 Verstappen clones! One wasn't enough when Nico came into Max's life, Y/N birthed two more!
fan98 Love the little peek into the Verstappen clan! Especially since Y/N hasn’t been coming to races recently.
December 28, 2027
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Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127 , @mysticalnightenthusiast , @green-thots , @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp , @ellelabelle , @lilypat , @dreamercrowd
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whorekneecentral · 11 months
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Only The Best For You
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Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.
Word Count: 2,400
Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.
merry smutmas series
--
Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.
An old L/N family tradition.
Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.
You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.
It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.
"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.
She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"
Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."
Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.
"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.
A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.
It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"
Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."
The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.
He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.
Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.
"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.
Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.
If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"
"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.
"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.
He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.
You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.
He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.
"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.
Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.
"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.
Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."
Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"
"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."
You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.
"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.
"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."
Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.
--
As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.
It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.
You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.
"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"
"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"
He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.
The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.
Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.
"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."
Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.
"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."
"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"
He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."
"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.
You were persistent.
Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."
"Why not?"
"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.
You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.
"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.
Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."
"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.
Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.
“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.
He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?
It was heavy, heated.
His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.
“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”
The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.
His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.
Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.
He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.
"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."
Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.
He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.
You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.
You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.
He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.
Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.
Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.
"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?
You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.
He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.
“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”
His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.
Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.
"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.
You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."
Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."
"Merry Christmas, Kimi."
--
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beekeeperspicnic · 4 months
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Can't believe this blog has existed THIS long, and I've somehow never shared this Sherlock Holmes fanfic by PG Wodehouse. As far as I know it predates Conan Doyle publishing any stories which mention Holmes retiring to keep bees, which presents the delightful possibility that ACD discussed his future plans for Holmes with his young friend Plum, whose first reaction was to go off and write (and publish) a cute parody of it.
The Adventure of the Missing Bee
Sherlock Holmes is to retire from public life after Christmas, and take to bee-farming in the country.
"It is a little hard, my dear Watson," said Holmes, stretching his long form on the sofa, and injecting another half-pint of morphia with the little jewelled syringe which the Prince of Piedmont had insisted on presenting to him as a reward for discovering who had stolen his nice new rattle; "it is just a little hard that an exhausted, overworked private detective, coming down to the country in search of peace and quiet, should be confronted in the first week by a problem so weird, so sinister, that for the moment it seems incapable of solution."
"You refer—?" I said.
"To the singular adventure of the missing bee, as anybody but an ex-army surgeon equipped with a brain of dough would have known without my telling him."
I readily forgave him his irritability, for the loss of his bee had had a terrible effect on his nerves. It was a black business. Immediately after arriving at our cottage, Holmes had purchased from the Army and Navy Stores a fine bee. It was docile, busy, and intelligent, and soon made itself quite a pet with us. Our consternation may, therefore, be imagined when, on going to take it out for its morning run, we found the hive empty. The bee had disappeared, collar and all. A glance at its bed showed that it had not been slept in that night. On the floor of the hive was a portion of the insect's steel chain, snapped. Everything pointed to sinister violence.
Holmes' first move had been to send me into the house while he examined the ground near the hive for footsteps. His search produced no result. Except for the small, neat tracks of the bee, the ground bore no marks. The mystery seemed one of those which are destined to remain unsolved through eternity.
But Holmes was ever a man of action.
"Watson," he said to me, about a week after the incident, "the plot thickens. What does the fact that a Frenchman has taken rooms at Farmer Scroggins' suggest to you?"
"That Farmer Scroggins is anxious to learn French," I hazarded.
"Idiot!" said Holmes, scornfully. "You've got a mind like a railway bun. No. If you wish to know the true significance of that Frenchman's visit, I will tell you. But, in the first place, can you name any eminent Frenchman who is interested in bees?"
I could answer that.
"Maeterlinck," I replied. "Only he is a Belgian."
"It is immaterial. You are quite right. M. Maeterlinck was the man I had in my mind. With him bees are a craze. Watson, that Frenchman is M. Maeterlinck's agent. He and Farmer Scroggins have conspired, and stolen that bee."
"Holmes!" I said, horrified. "But M. Maeterlinck is a man of the most rigid honesty."
"Nobody, my dear Watson, is entirely honest. He may seem so, because he never meets with just that temptation which would break through his honesty. I once knew a bishop who could not keep himself from stealing pins. Every man has his price. M. Maeterlinck's is bees. Pass the morphia."
"But Farmer Scroggins!" I protested. "A bluff, hearty English yeoman of the best type."
"May not his heartiness be all bluff?" said Holmes, keenly. "You may take it from me that there is literally nothing that that man would stick at. Murder? I have seen him kill a wasp with a spade, and he looked as if he enjoyed it. Arson? He has a fire in his kitchen every day. You have only to look at the knuckle of the third finger of his left hand to see him as he is. If he is an honest man, why does he wear a made-up tie on Sundays? If he is an upright man, why does he stoop when he digs potatoes? No, Watson, nothing that you can say can convince me that Farmer Scroggins has not a black heart. The visit of this Frenchman—who, as you can see in an instant if you look at his left shoulder-blade, has not only deserted his wife and a large family, but is at this very moment carrying on a clandestine correspondence with an American widow, who lives in Kalamazoo, Mich. — convinces me that I have arrived at the true solution of the mystery. I have written a short note to Farmer Scroggins, requesting him to send back the bee and explaining that all is discovered. And that," he broke off, "is, if I mistake not, his knock. Come in."
The door opened. There was a scuffling in the passage, and in bounded our missing bee, frisking with delight. Our housekeeper followed, bearing a letter. Holmes opened it.
"Listen to this, Watson," said Holmes, in a voice of triumph.
"'Mr. Giles Scroggins sends his compliments to Mr. Sherlock Holmes, an' it's quite true, I did steal that there bee, though how Mr. Holmes found out, Mr. G. Scroggins bean't able to understand. I am flying the country as requested. Please find enclosed 1 (one) bee, and kindly acknowledge receipt to 'Your obedient servant, 'G. Scroggins.
'Enclosure.'?"
"Holmes," I whispered, awe-struck, "you are one of the most remarkable men I ever met."
He smiled, lit his hookah, seized his violin, and to the slow music of that instrument turned once more to the examination of his test tubes.
Three days later we saw the following announcement in the papers: "M. Maeterlinck, the distinguished Belgian essayist, wishes it to be known that he has given up collecting bees, and has taken instead to picture postcards."
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hwaslayer · 6 months
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home (khj) | one shot.
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—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.
—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst
—word count: 24k
—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*
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—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande
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Home.
When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;
Hongjoong.
It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;
The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.
As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.
So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;
Hongjoong.
—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE
“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”
“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”
“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.
You couldn’t say you were surprised.
However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going. 
“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.
“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.
“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—
“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.
“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”
“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.
“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.” 
“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.
“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.
“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?
“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.
“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm. 
“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.
“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking. 
“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady. 
“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.
“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.
“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.
“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”
“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”
“You sure?” You nod.
“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”
“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.
So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.
“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”
“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”
“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”
“This is early to you?” 
“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.
“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.
“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.
“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”
“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”
“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall. 
“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”
“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.
“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.
“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.
“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.
“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”
“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.
“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”
“How can you tell?”
“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”
“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.
“I’m just being honest.”
“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”
“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.
“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.
“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”
“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.
“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.
“Do you want me to be?”
“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.
“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.
“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”
“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.
“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.
“Mind if I grab one, too?”
“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.
“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.
“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light. 
“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.
“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.
“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.
So colorful, vibrant.
But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.
He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.
So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.
That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.
Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.
“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.
“Why are you smiling like that then?”
“Not because of you.” You tease.
“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”
“Just wanted to get some air.”
“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”
“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”
“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close. 
Kiss you. 
Hold your hand.
“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.
“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”
“You— wait, what?”
“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.
“A date, hm?”
“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.
“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.
“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”
“Where are you planning on taking me?”
“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.” 
And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too. 
After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.
Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.
That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.
“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.
“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”
“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”
“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”
“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.
“Did you just get home?”
“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”
“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.” 
“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.
“Joong, I have to study tonight.”
“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”
“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”
“Really?” He says excitedly.
“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”
“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.
Welp.
You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.
When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.
“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.
“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.
The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.
“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.
“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.
“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.
Surprisingly, you do finish everything.
“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.
“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.
“Are you almost done, though?”
“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.
The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.
So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.
“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.
Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.
“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.
“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.
“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.
“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”
“Just want a kiss.”
“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going. 
And you do.
The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.
His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.
“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples. 
“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.
“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.
“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?
The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.
His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.
“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm. 
“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.
Oops.
So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.
He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable. 
“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.
“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”
“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.
“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”
“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now. 
“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.
“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.
“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.
“This is pretty to you?”
“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.
“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.
“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.
“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”
“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.
“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.
You definitely slept well that night.
And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.
“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.
“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.
“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”
“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”
“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.
“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”
“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.
“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.
“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”
“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.
“What, why?”
“He’s just so good to me.”
“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”
“Really?” He smiles and nods.
“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”
“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.
So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this. 
All of this.
—SUMMER
“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.
“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.
“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.
“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’
When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son. 
But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.
You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.
It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.
“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.
“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.
“Whose house is it at?”
“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.
“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.
“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.
“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.
“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.
“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”
“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”
“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.
“Yeah, he’s an old man.”
“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”
“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.
“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”
“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.
“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless. 
The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.
“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property. 
You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.
“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi. 
“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”
“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”
“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.
“He does.” 
“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.
“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.
“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.
“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”
“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.
A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.
It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way. 
You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.
Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.
Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else. 
Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made. 
“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.
“That’s my girl.” 
“You look hella happy with her.”
“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.
“We’re not really talking.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”
“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”
“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.
Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.
“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.
“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.
“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”
“Joong.” You giggle.
“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.
“No one’s perfect.”
“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.
“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”
“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”
“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.
“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.
“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.
“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”
“In the lot?!”
“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”
“Joong, someone might see us.”
“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.
“We don’t even have a condom!”
“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.
“Feels so good.” You whine.
“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”
“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.
You can’t believe him right now.
“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.
“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.
“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.
“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.
“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.
“Offer still stands, love.”
“What offer?”
“To sleep in my room.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”
“I do!”
“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”
“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses. 
“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.
“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.
“I hate sleeping without you.”
“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.
The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.
Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.
The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.
You, perfect for him.
You, everything to him.
And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.
You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.
You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.
You felt empty, like your other half was missing.
“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.
A night without his warmth.
“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.
When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.
Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.
How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.
—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE
“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”
“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”
“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.
“Yeah, you didn’t.”
“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”
“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”
“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”
“That’s not the point.”
“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason. 
“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”
“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”
“You’re being mean.”
“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.
“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”
“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.
Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.
But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.
Why were you doing everything wrong?
“Woo.” You cry into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”
“What happened?”
“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”
“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”
“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”
“Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“He didn’t say anything else to you?”
“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”
“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”
“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.
You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.
“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.
“Joong, get up.”
“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”
“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.
“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”
“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.
“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.
“Mingi’s in bed.”
“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.
“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.
“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.
“I’m sorry about this.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.” 
“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.
“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”
“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.
“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.” 
“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.
“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.
It shouldn’t be that way, though.
“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?
“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.
You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him. 
Oh, Hongjoong.
You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.
The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.
“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.
“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.
“You made breakfast?”
“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”
“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”
“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.
“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“It’s fine, Joong.”
“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”
“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.
“You’re so good to me.”
“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.
Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.
It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.
A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.
A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.
As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.
Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.
And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.
When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.
“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”
“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.
“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.
For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.
The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him. 
You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.
“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.
“Yeah, and?”
“Nothing, nevermind.”
“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.
“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.
But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too. 
“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.
“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”
“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now. 
“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”
“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.” 
“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”
“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.
Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.
During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.
Of course.
You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.
And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.
You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.
“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.
“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.
“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.
“Of course.”
“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”
“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”
“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.
She knows, she knows.
Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.
“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.
“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”
“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.
“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.” 
“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics. 
Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad. 
“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”
“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”
“Can you just listen to me for a second?”
“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.
“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.
“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”
“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”
“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.
“Yes I do!”  He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”
“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”
“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?
If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?
“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.
“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.
And it gets you every single time. 
You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.
“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open. 
Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.
That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
No one else matters to me.
You’re perfect.
Made for me.
My good girl.
And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.
Things were good, until they weren’t.
There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.
You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.
Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.
tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?
tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.
You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.
“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.
“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”
“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”
“Not my point.”
“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?
“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.
“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”
“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.” 
“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”
“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”
“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”
“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”
“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.
“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“
“To you, maybe.”
“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”
“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen. 
“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”
“How is it different?”
“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”
“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”
“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”
“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”
“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”
“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”
“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.
“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.
“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”
“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”
“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.
“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument. 
“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”
“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.
“What happened?”
“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”
“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”
“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.
“I’m gonna go home.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”
“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.
“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.
“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”
“Yeah, sure. You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.
The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.
“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.
Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—
That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.
But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.
Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.
It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.
Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.
hongjoong: where are you?
hongjoong: y/n
hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung
hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung
hongjoong: fuck this, whatever
Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.
But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.
What’s gonna be left of this?
What’s gonna be left of you?
Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.
yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at
wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?
wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping
wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument
yunho: they fought again? over what?
wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me
yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?
wooyoung: you and me both
yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me
wooyoung: thanks
wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit
He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.
When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.
“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.
“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”
“It was so stupid.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.
“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”
“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”
“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”
“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”
“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”
“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.
“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”
“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”
“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”
“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.
“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”
“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.
“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”
“I need to shower.”
“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes. 
“Are you at least feeling better?”
“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”
“It’s cause of me.”
“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.
Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.
It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.
“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.
“Hanging up more?”
“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.
“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”
“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”
“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”
“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.
“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”
“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”
“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods. 
“She just needs her friends.”
“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.” 
“We were good friends before we even dated.”
“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.
“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.
“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”
“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.
“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.
“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”
“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.
“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.” 
“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.
“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”
And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.
Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.
The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—
You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change. 
Not anymore.
“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.
“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”
“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.
“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”
“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.
“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”
“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”
“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?” 
“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”
“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”
“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”
“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.
But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.
“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”
“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”
“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.
“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”
“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”
“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.
“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.
“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.
You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.
Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?
When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.
You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two. 
He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.
“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.
“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.
“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips. 
“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes. 
It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.
Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.
As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.
But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that. 
Fuck the rest.
—CURRENT
“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.
“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.
“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.
“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.
You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.
So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.
They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.
They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.
You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.
You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.
The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.
When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.
“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”
“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.
“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.
“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.
“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.
“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.
“You okay, baby girl?” 
“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.
“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.
“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”
“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.
Nor do you want to on your birthday.
“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”
“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.
“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”
“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.
Of your home.
“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”
“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.
“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.
The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,
Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.
The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.
A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.
It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.
The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’
hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?
tara: yeah! should i leave soon?
hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here
tara: i’ll be on my way!
tara: joongie i’m outside
hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec
You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles. 
Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.
All of that going to waste.
hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?
tara: yup!
There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].
tara: are you going to channie’s?
hongjoong: yeah, are you?
tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it
hongjoong: go 😞
tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?
hongjoong: nah shes not..
tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!
hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️
You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.
“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”
“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”
“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.
Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.
“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.
When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.
Maybe you were just the excuse.
The rebound.
The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.
It was never about you.
And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.
You are.
“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”
“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.
Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.
But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.
It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.
2 years of nothing.
Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.
But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.
Because did you deserve this? All of this? 
It was never about you.
Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had. 
Now, there is nothing left of you.
Nothing left of this home you built.
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—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡
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—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid
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wildestdreamsblog · 9 months
Text
Latibule Season 2: I
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: In the spirit of Christmas hehe
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Masterlist, Prologue
He didn’t believe that you were gone no matter what anyone said.
Everyone was saying the same thing. You were gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring you back. However, Min Yoongi didn’t like their answer and anyone who said that you had already passed on from this earth was met with his wrath that was communicated through his fists and weapons. No one could even tell him that he now couldn’t physically follow where you were. In his twisted mind, he thought that he could follow you because you never left this earth. Of course, he could follow. You did promise, after all, that you would never go somewhere where he couldn’t fucking follow. His angel would never lie to him, he thought. But your absence was saying otherwise. Your absence was too loud.
The days following the moment he opened his eyes and learned of your demise were bloody and dark. Everyone was on edge, and the traitors went to hell here on earth. They did wish they had died instead, but death was never quick when it came to them, nor was it painless. Min Yoongi made sure that they felt every ounce of pain he felt when you were taken away from him. His brothers could not even reason with the man. They didn’t know how to handle this Min Yoongi. It was as though he died there with you, and what was left of him was only his darkness. Agustd was already ruthless, but now he was just outright cruel, burning everything and everyone that crossed his path.
No one could even say their piece to him-well, all except Kim Seokjin. Despite Jin choosing the less violent life and despite him spending his days treating people in the hospital, no one could deny the power he naturally excluded. It was the power that was inherent to him when he was unfortunate enough to be born to a father that was the previous mafia king. Kim Seokjin may possessed the face of an angel, but he was the most dangerous of them all. It was just that he had a patience of a saint, and everyone fret the day someone snapped his patience. He was a dangerous, eccentric man. And he was a ticking time bomb in comparison to Taehyung who just kept on exploding without an end in sight. Min Yoongi, though, was known to be a reasonable man, his calm nature was never broken. It took losing you to break the calmness in him. The days after he woke up, he was seen back where he was the happiest. Day after day, Yoongi could be found there, leaning against the tree with cigarette in between his lips as he looked at the ruins of your house. The fire took everything from him. It was angry as it smoldered what once was his latibule to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Yoongi thought that the world was simply too cruel to him to strip away the only place he had of you. He couldn’t even smell you anymore, couldn’t even go to the place that was full of your presence.
How cruel was it to have you once and never again? How cruel was it for him to finally have found the warmth, to finally have basked in it for a moment too short, only for him to live in a winter forever after you? He would never admit to anyone that each time he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw was the moment you fell as the bullet pierced your skin. So, he had not been sleeping well. If you were here, he thought, you would chase away all the demons in his head. If you were here, you would put your arms around him, rub your hands on his shoulder in a soothing way only you knew how, and you would silently tell him that everything would be okay, that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Yoongi couldn’t do anything. All he did was to go to the place where he found and lost you.
He was always there, Jimin noted. He made this place your temple, mural and shrine. However, never once did he visit where you were finally laid to rest. Never once did he even acknowledge your death. It was like not seeing it would make your death untrue. And so, day after day, hour after hour, the man could be found there as though he was waiting on a miracle, as though if he waited long enough then you would return, as though if he stayed long enough, you would walk back and smile at him, all while calling him a fool for looking too sad.
But you never did.  
And after a whole year, Min Yoongi never uttered your name again.
---
“Y-you’re supposed to be the good one! W-what is the Chief of Police doing here?!”
Yoongi watched in boredom as Jungkook pushed a man to kneel in front of him. The warehouse was quiet, well, save for the screaming of the traitors. The other brothers were busy with torturing the remaining traitors they kept alive. And today, he was faced with the last remaining traitor they had yet to kill. See, this asshole was so below the rank that he didn’t know that the Chief of Police was also the same Agustd, the leader of the mafia.
He was nothing, Yoongi thought. And yet, he was the one who blew up your house. He could almost laugh if he still knew how.  “T-the public will know! I’ll tell them that you’re the d-devil!”
Yoongi blew the smoke on his face emotionlessly, a strand of his dark hair falling on his face. “You’re not an intelligent man, are you?” he asked evenly before pulling the cigarette in between his lips and onto the idiot’s eyelid. He heeded his screams no mind as he removed his jacket with his badge on it. Someone from his right stepped in to carefully fold his jacket. Yoongi folded his sleeves to his elbows and without any warning, punched the man on his face.
The man proved to be an even greater fool as he laughed in false bravado, blood a stark contrast against his crooked teeth, “Is that all you can do? You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re a civil servant!”
“Is that so?” he asked in a conversational tone as he picked up a knife, putting it up over the light to inspect it before turning to the buffoon. “Which hand burned the house?”
“What?”
Yoongi looked at Jungkook and the latter manhandled the man near the table, flatting both his hand on it. “Which hand should I cut?” He walked nearer to them as though he had all the time in the world. “This one,” he stabbed the table, missing the man’s hand by a centimeter. “Or this one?” he repeated the action for the right hand, except that this time he intentionally stabbed the knife through his thumb, severely cutting it. “Oh no,” he said in a deadpanned voice before looking directly at him. “Guess my aim got bad.”
“W-who are y-you?!”
He smiled at him; his eyes remained emotionless. “Hi, I’m Agustd. Nice to meet you. So which hand?”
“N-No! No, please! I’ll give you what you want-“
Yoongi sighed, already losing his patience. “You do have to choose. We won’t stop until you only have one hand. Or do you want me to choose?”
“L-lef-“
Before the traitor could even finish sputtering what Yoongi deemed was bullshit, he buried the hilt of the knife into his hand. He didn’t even blink when he felt resistance from his bones, Yoongi merely kept on pushing, uncaring of the wailing man. He never stopped until he the knife finally touched the surface of the table.
And after that, he stabbed his hand again. He never ceased, not until the hand was completely mutilated. He never stopped, not even when the blood kept sputtering on his face from the man’s open wound, a stark contrast on his pale white complexion. He never stopped even when the man lost consciousness.
“He’s going to die, Yoongi,” Seokjin noted lightly from his seat. From outside looking in, he looked like a perfect image of peace, yet the hold he had on his phone was a telltale sign that he was far from pleased. He was not even phased by the violence around him, his focus merely on the whereabouts of his runaway sunshine. “I do not have the patience required to revive a dying man tonight.”
Yoongi paused, leering at the man who was slipping in and out of consciousness, before heeding his hyung’s statement. He did not want to test Jin’s patience tonight when it was apparent that he was barely holding on to his control.
He didn’t want to kill this man tonight. No. He planned on keeping him alive for years and years to come. He planned to give him hope, only for him to squash it away like he did his. As long as Yoongi shall live, then he shall suffer with him. As long as he was living in this fucked-up nightmare where you weren’t by his side, then so should he lived his very own crafted nightmare.
If he wasn’t happy, then why should anyone be?
---
“That phone looks like it wants to rest,” Jimin observed lightly as he and his hyung visited another crime scene that was definitely not because of them. It was three hours away from Seoul, the travel time giving him headache, similar to what Jimin was giving him. He watched as Yoongi ended the call before glaring at him.
“What about my phone, Jimin?”
“It looks like it wants to retire. Please, for the love of all that’s good, let me buy you a phone.”
“No.” It was the only thing he had of you.
“Whyyyyy do you love that phone so much, hyung? Our enemies would think our business is not doing good that you cannot even buy yourself a phone!”
Yoongi just shrugged his broad shoulders before walking out of the police line and through the busy market. He nodded at the policemen as they acknowledged him. His watchful eyes observed the chipper attitude of the marketgoers, chatting among themselves. He wondered how people could wake up this early and yet looked so alive. He hadn’t felt alive since that night. However, he thought that had you been here, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would. He would wake up at an ungodly hour for you.
He could hear Jimin chatter beside him as they navigated their way out of the busy street when it happened. Until it all turned into a white noise when it happened.
When he saw you.
He halted his brisk walk, his eyes following as you walked away yet again from him.
 For a brief moment, he believed your eyes met. For a brief moment, he felt his heart beat again. Yet, your eyes seemed to hold no recognition for him as it only passed through him. You didn’t even stop. It was as though he was merely a stranger.
On the other hand, he thought that you looked different, but he knew in his dead heart that it was you.
Or was it his mind finally crumbling on him, reveling on his insanity?
He blinked once and you were gone.
Jimin, suffice to say, was shocked as his hyung ran back. He never saw him moved that fast, uncaring of the people who he would runover from his haste. His dark coat trailed behind him as he moved, a touch of desperation evident, compelling Jimin to reluctantly trail after him. Yoongi forcefully cleared a path, parting the crowd with determined strides. His singular focus was on reaching you, leaving his mind devoid of any other thoughts.
It was you, he was sure. It was his angel.
He was almost sure.
But when he reached where he saw you last, you weren’t there.
Jimin was breathless when he finally reached his hyung who was looking around the crowd like a lost child. His hands were on his waist as his desperate eyes searched for…who, exactly?
“What happened, hyu-“
“It was her, Jimin-ah. I saw her.”
He blinked, following his hyung’s shifting gaze. “Who?”
“My angel. She’s alive."
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Latibule 2.II
890 notes · View notes
aureatchi · 9 months
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⛇₊˚ .࿐₊˚✧ BUBBLES IN MY CHAMPAGNE, LET IT BE SOME JAZZ PLAYIN’ . . .OSAMU DAZAI
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⟢ SYNOPSIS. the port-mafia was infamous for throwing glamorous holiday parties every year. not only were you attending this time, but you were also finally going to be introduced as the port-mafia boss’ pretty girlfriend! or…that was the plan.
of course, things never go according to plan.
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a/n. merry christmas !! adding onto the xmas dazai fics jdjsjwn <3 this one’s vv chaotic.
info. fem!reader. pm boss!dazai. pm exec!reader. fluff, angst, pinch of sugg. there’s DRAMA. mentions of drinking. lil jealousy. dazai is a 💩. the pm is filthy rich lmao. pazenia is a made up country. wc. 3.4k
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“Oh my.”
“How do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
The brunette chuckled as he waltzed towards you. You saw him appear behind you through the sizeable full-body mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist as you finished applying your lipstick.
“It looks even better on you.” Dazai’s fingers wandered playfully, tracing the curves the red dress he gifted you hugged so well. The tailoring was so impressive—the dress could fit noone else but you. And indeed, it was made exclusively for you, for the largest and most luxe corporate event of the year.
It was the Port Mafia Christmas party. Everyone was required to attend, and plus-ones were allowed too, stirring even more chaos into the affair. You were a Port Mafia executive—of course you were going, but the night was going to be unique for another reason.
Tonight, the Port Mafia boss would confirm all the rumors…all the gossip circulating the past few months. He was finally making your relationship with him official in front of everyone.
As if everyone still doesn’t know.
Yet you were nervous. Keeping things an enigma actually worked in your favor—besides suspicious stares with muffled voices and jealous women, you didn’t have to worry about much. Dazai would take care of any problem. After all, you trusted him completely.
But now, everyone would know. You and Dazai had gone through all the downsides—you could become a potential target for any enemies, your name would rise even higher on the wanted list, and you could be stalked by frustrated, jealous men…honestly, you two were almost too hot for your own wellbeing.
Just almost, because “I’ll take care of it all. I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you, darling.”
He whispered those words into your ear, sensing your anxiousness as you continued to look at your reflections.
“Please don’t worry.”
He did not speak in his usual teasing, playfully amorous voice. The brunette’s face matched the seriousness of the topic you had both gone over multiple times, making sure that the other wanted to still go through with it. You both didn’t want to force the decision of your relationship upon the other—though it was Dazai who had suggested the idea, the choice rested entirely on you. He ensured you knew you could change your mind anytime you wanted.
And Dazai wished you could see that he truly, would go to the ends of universes to make sure you were safe.
You gave him a reassuring smile. “I won’t,” you replied. “I’m only worried about you. I need to be by your side at all times to fight any bad guys that come for you.”
And girls. If you were being honest, you always felt a bit sick thinking about other women wanting him. Maybe this is why your nerves hadn’t backed you out yet…you wanted everyone to know their leader was indeed taken.
Dazai laughed more heartily than he intended to at the comment. He, the now Port Mafia superior commander, known even before as the Demon Prodigy, was being talked to in concern that he needed a sidekick to help him.
Though, he was also the same man whose mind was full of fervor for one girl. You giggled, seeing the apparent blush on Dazai’s face when you fixed his black tie. He was matching with you, of course—his red attire was the ruby scarf.
“Perfect,” you mused when you were done. “Wow, you’re handsome.“
“And you’re ethereal,” Dazai responded, putting on your coat. “Ready to go shock everyone?”
“As if half of the mafia doesn’t already suspect anything between us, Osamu,” you smiled.
“Hmm…you’re right.
“Of course they’d think I’d sought after the prettiest woman in the world.” A coy grin snuck back onto his lips.
It was evident your lover had good taste, not only in outfits. He chose to rent out one of the big hotels as the venue for the party—very fitting for the filthy-rich organization.
The first thing you noticed when you stepped out of the limo was the massive Christmas tree in the center of the hall.
“Woah.” There were at least fifty gifts under it already.
You noticed Dazai’s brows suddenly furrow as he, too, inspected the presents.
“Osamu?”
“Bella, remind me who this person is again.”
He picked up a present, showing you a familiar name.
“Oh!” He was the assistant under your wing. You two had worked together for years—you had built up a lot of trust and a friendship to have him in charge of some of your responsibilities.
“I see. Don’t mind that; I forget some of my men sometimes.”
You nodded, though you felt a bit unsure about his response. Regardless, you cast the thought aside.
What you didn’t notice was the way Dazai showed you the package. The present was from your assistant, but the name it was for was entirely covered by the brunette’s hand.
“Well, are you ready to go in?” Dazai asked, holding out a hand towards you.
“Yeah, I’m-”
“Dazai!”
It was Kouyou, another executive. She saw you and greeted you, too.
“My, you’re looking lovely today,” she chirped. “So you and the boss are dating.”
You smiled. “Yes.”
“Well, better tell everyone soon,” she told the both of you. “Dazai, a daughter of a very infamous organization in Europe, is at this party as a plus-one. She wants to discuss a business proposal…‘as soon as possible,’ she said. It’s confidential, too; she only wants you. Do you have a few moments to spare?”
Dazai immediately turned toward you, to which you nodded at him. “It seems important, especially if she’s from Europe.”
“You’re sure?” Dazai asked. You were supposed to walk into the dining hall together to introduce yourselves as the power couple of the evening. “What about…”
“Yeah, the mafia is the priority. I’ll find you soon.” You were an executive, after all. The mafia existed to protect Yokohama City, so work should be an urgency.
“Alright,” he replied. He took another look at you—a singular, amber eye softened once he met your gaze. The other was hidden behind bandages, and so were the emotions of his heart. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling at the moment.
“Let’s go, big sis.” He turned towards Kouyou, who led him out of the room.
Now alone, not counting the guards, you glanced at the presents again, picking up the one Dazai had previously questioned you about.
Oh! Your assistant gave you a present. You found it sweet; your assistant hadn’t gifted you anything until this year. Now Dazai’s reaction made sense—perhaps he had thought you had a secret admirer or something. You giggled at his assumed jealousy.
You walked inside the dining hall by yourself, a large crowd already entertaining themselves inside. Everyone who saw you stopped to greet you—their executive, and you wished them a merry Christmas back with a friendly smile.
“Huh? So she’s not dating him?”
You turned your head the slightest, pretending to grab a drink while you instead eavesdropped on two employees you hardly knew. Thank goodness they weren’t the ones going out on missions to spy—they were terrible at not being obvious.
“I’m not sure. But that underground aristocrat from Europe that everyone knows has a crush on the boss showed up to meet him. That huge Christmas tree by the staircases is actually a gift from her.”
“Really?! So…maybe she was the boss’ plus-one? Now that’s wild. Everyone really had me believing he was seeing the executive.”
“Yo!” Your attention was suddenly pulled from their conversation.
“You good? You’re overflowing your cup.” You had poured too much drink, so liquid was running all over the floor.
“Shoot, I think she heard us!” you faintly heard behind you as the employees moved away.
“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry,” you responded to your assistant who had found you. He handed you a few napkins to clean your hands and dropped a few more to mop the floor with his shoe.
“You didn’t need to help, and thank you,” you said as you cleaned up, too, feeling bad.
“All good! Merry Christmas, by the way. How’s your evening going so far?”
“Good, thank you,” you responded, half-truthful. You needed to find somewhere to process what you had just heard. Even if they were only rumors…they bothered you.
“I saw you got me a gift in the lobby,” you added, recalling earlier. “I was surprised! You haven’t done that before, so I found it so sweet.”
“Oh yeah!” he replied, and you didn’t miss the pink that tinted his cheeks. “Who knows…I may have had a change of heart this year.”
You chuckled innocently. “Well, whatever the reason, thank you! I’m excited to see what you got.”
“Of course. I do hope you like it! Also, your dress. It looks good on you.” His voice sped up at his last comment.
“Oh, uh, thanks-”
That was really awkward. You gave him mercy, though…you hadn’t even told him you were in a relationship. So, you tried to say to him that it was your boyfriend, Dazai, who had the dress made for you, but you were cut off.
Dazai had finally entered the room, but he was accompanied by that noblewoman everyone was speaking about.
Wow, she was gorgeous. Her hair was in a perfect blowout, and she wore an emerald green dress that fit her like a glove.
And with each step Dazai and this new woman took into the hall to be regarded by everyone, your heart sank a bit more into your stomach.
What??
“You don’t look so well. Are you okay?” Your assistant paid no mind to the mafia boss’ new commotion. He was wholly concerned for you.
“Yeah. This drink tastes weird, but I can’t put my finger on what.” Yet, you took another sip. What was going on? You had never doubted Dazai’s love or loyalty toward you. Had you been so blind by your own to miss this?
Dazai didn’t even bother trying to search for you. And the way the lady’s arm touchingly clung around his infuriated you.
“He was seeing some foreign princess all along?”
“The boss always has to cause a scene with something new.”
“They’re kind of hot together, though.”
Now you really wanted to puke. You stared until the noblewoman’s eyes finally caught yours and dwelt on your figure briefly before turning toward Dazai and asking him something.
Dazai’s lips read, “Okay!” before a guard approached you.
“The boss is summoning all the executives to him,” he whispered in your ear, and you nodded, strolling over to him.
Fuck. You wanted to cry. Your heart was beating out of your chest.
You felt a bit better when the other executives—Kouyou and Chuuya showed up before you.
“Miss, these are the Port Mafia’s three executives.” He introduced you individually, not meeting your eye when he went to you.
You wanted to leave. There was no point in being here anymore. What you thought would be a cheery Christmas Eve turned out to be the worst night ever. It couldn’t have gotten any worse…
“And this is the Lady of Pazenia,” Dazai said, introducing the woman. “Our most important foreign guest tonight.”
“So, uh? I’m kinda confused,” Chuuya commented. “Mackerel boss, ya dating her or something?” He glanced at Dazai, the girl on him, and then you.
She responded for him. “We’re getting acquainted tonight, that’s all,” she replied smugly. Dazai chuckled. “Yes…we’ve communicated online a few times, but this is the first time we’re meeting face to face.”
What the fuck.
“Oh, uh, okay.” For once, Chuuya didn’t pester, didn’t tease anymore. Because he was just as startled as you. He, too, suspected that you were dating the boss.
“I’m sorry, will you please excuse me? It was nice meeting you, m’lady; I hope you enjoy your Christmas with the boss.” You didn’t even wait for a reply. You stormed off in the direction of your assistant. You were going to ask him to drive you home, and then you’d pack your things and then stay at a friend’s house for a few days to figure out what to do next.
Everything was crashing down like an avalanche.
But before you could get to him, the bastard’s subordinate stopped you.
“Akutagawa? Hi, Merry Christmas. Sorry, I’m in a rush-”
“Merry Christmas, miss,” he responded, moving in front of you again when you tried to shift over. “Aren’t you going to rescue the boss? Has your emotion clouded your rationality so much you can’t see things clearly anymore?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
You turned back towards the scene, and yeah—what you saw was your final straw. Akutagawa misjudged. Not even a glimmer of hope remained in you.
Somehow, they had ended up at the corner of the room. And lo and behold, Dazai and the Lady of Pazenia had ended up under the mistletoe, and many of the upper ranks surrounded them. There was even a Paparazzi.
You tried to push past Akutagawa, but he stopped you.
“Watch.”
Why? Did Dazai place him there to make sure you suffered through it all? This was so cruel. Tears welled up in your eyes as the room went quiet to watch.
“Oh! Silly me…how did I manage to get here?”
“I’m not sure…” the woman replied flirtatiously. “But you can’t break a tradition, boss of the Port Mafia.”
“I guess I can’t,” Dazai replied, leaning in. “But, can we make a deal, Miss?
“You can kiss me, but tell me where the real Lady of Pazenia is. The exact coordinates where you’re keeping her hostage. If there’s anyone kept in place to secure or torture her.”
And the crowd suddenly gasped. She did, too, and a hand flew to her mouth.
“Shit!”
About ten guards ran towards her, restraining her before she could do anything. Dazai calmly backed away, continuing to explain.
“The business proposal was crafty and would’ve led to our doom quite quickly. You’re trying to overthrow your own government. So, you devised a cover-up to get the mafia to help you, with a deal to help us on our end, but just like your original goal, you want our city’s government to fall into anarchy, too.
“An underground noblewoman. You are exactly that—quite literally.” Dazai sighed. “No, I’m not in a relationship with her, I…”
Dazai finally met your eye, and his heart immediately sunk seeing you cry.
“Oh my gosh,” he whispered, and he ran towards you, tightly embracing you.
You wanted to punch him, throw him away—something, but you were surrounded by half the corporate. There was already enough scandal tonight, you didn’t need to add any more.
“Hah, it’s okay,” you responded audibly, hastily wiping tears. “You’re a great actor, Osamu, really got me believing you were cheating on me for a second.” Words spurred out of your mouth—you hoped you wouldn’t regret it later.
Dazai’s grip on you tightened to silently show you gratitude before he turned to your audience. “Now that the problem is out of the way—Merry Christmas to you all.” A waiter handed him a glass of champagne, who had also gone around with multiple others to hand out drinks to everyone.
“And a special Merry Christmas to my girlfriend, right here.” He gave you a kind smile, and you tried your best to reciprocate your own. There were “awe”’s and “that’s so cute”’s about.
Dazai held his glass up towards everyone else’s before toasting with yours.
You stayed away from Dazai for the next hour. He respected your space for that long—in the meantime, you acted fine. You conversed with others, you laughed. Your assistant apologized for his comment on you earlier—“I was completely oblivious to you and the boss! I’m so sorry; I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You laughed it off, telling him it was okay.
“Hey, bella.”
Dazai had finally found you alone. You looked at him, facing the inevitable.
“I’m getting tired. Wanna sneak away with me?”
You hesitated. “Where would we go?”
“The drinks suck here, besides that champagne. I know Chuuya was definitely not in charge of this part.”
You had to agree with that one. You couldn’t even finish the glass you overfilled earlier.
Bar Lupin was surprisingly empty that night. The bar was Dazai’s safe place, his getaway. You were constantly reminded of his genuine, complete trust in you whenever he took you here.
“I’m sorry,” Dazai apologized as you waited for your drinks. “What I did was brutal.”
“It really fucking hurt,” you said, finally able to release your true feelings now that nobody else was around.
“I had to keep up the act to expose her. Her vulnerability was that…she had a crush on me? So, the most rapid way to gain her trust was to make her believe she had a chance. She didn’t know I was seeing someone.”
“You take acting too seriously. You’re the Port Mafia boss, not some goddamn movie actor. You couldn’t even…make eye contact with me? Give me a reassuring look or something?”
“You’re right. That’s no excuse.” He took a breath. He had actually messed something up. He could predict and do everything else flawlessly until it came to the people he loved.
He always screwed it up.
“I set aside our relationship for a mission. I’m really sorry, love. And I understand if it takes awhile for you to think through it all. The only thing I ask is for forgiveness.”
“I dunno…it kind of seems like you enjoyed it…”
That was a lie. You were just saying things out of spite now. You had rethought the previous events after recalling what Akutagawa had harshly told you without context—rescue the boss? Yeah, Dazai clearly didn’t enjoy it. He never touched the woman back in any way, and his word choice was very cautious. Except one line.
“Us communicating online? Yeah, I knew she’d just go along with it. I had to say that so Chuuya would stop pushing and blow my cover. Besides, you literally have my email login, darling. You see everything.”
“I really hate you sometimes, Osamu, you know?” you muttered as the bartender finally handed you two your drinks. You took a thirsty sip out of yours. You couldn’t even stay mad anymore.
“Is that your way of saying you forgive me?” he chuckled, knowing the mood was lightening.
“No. You’re just too…attractive. Like, why are you so hot? All the girls want you…I was actually quite relieved when you asked me if we should make things official so everyone could finally know that we belong to each other…”
Hah, if only you knew.
“You don’t assume I think the same? You almost pissed me off by hanging around your little assistant, too, belladonna. He clearly fancies you.”
You gulped, remembering his earlier compliment. “Don’t do anything to him—he didn’t know. He does now.”
“He better,” he simply replied. “And everyone else. There’s no excuse now—you’re the Port Mafia boss’ girlfriend.”
You felt like there were butterflies in your stomach. The protectiveness was attractive. You pulled on Dazai’s tie, reeling the rest of him towards you.
“And you’re my boyfriend,” you smiled.
To everyone else, Dazai was known as evil, suicidal, murderer, demon, saint. But to you, he was simply Osamu. Your boyfriend. And perhaps that’s what he loved most of all. Across universes, you would not fail him—not even Odasaku succeeded so highly.
“Are you going to kiss me, bella?” Dazai asked, the signature smile back on his face.
“No,” you teased, pushing him back. “I’m still mad at you. Nothing went according to plan.”
“Nothing did,” the brunette replied. “But isn’t that what’s so exciting about life? Life is unexpected, yet some good things can come out of it, such as…”
He revealed a piece of mistletoe in his hand, holding it above you two.
“Even if you’re mad, you can’t break a tradition,” Dazai spoke, swinging the plant back and forth.
You sighed before you both leaned in to kiss each other. Dazai pulled you onto his lap, and you kissed him even more feverishly. Your hands ran through his hair until the bandage around his head finally came undone, unveiling the rest of his pretty face.
You focused on his dilated, honey-colored eyes. Finally, they revealed what he was feeling. Comfort in having you in his arms again. In your warmth.
Everything felt too intense after that. He had started making out with you again, his hands were wandering you curiously, the dim lighting, the jazz instrumental, how tipsy you felt from the drinks…
“Let’s just go home.”
You were swaddled in Dazai’s arms under the bed's covers at home. So sleepy. Dazai promised that the next day would treat the both of you better—a peaceful Christmas gift.
“Let’s stop doing such large parties,” you said, looking up at the ceiling. “It just calls for trouble, to be honest.”
“Yeah…we’ll have a small houseparty next time. Everyone else can do what they want.”
You were gently kissed on the forehead before the brunette softly whispered to you. “Merry Christmas, belladonna. I love you.”
“I love you too, Osamu.”
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dazai told me he’d kiss u if u rb this. rbs are cherished; they are ur christmas gift to me! <3
tags: @kissesmellow21 @osaemu @ruanais + @lovedazai @chuuyrr @anqelically (i think u guys would like this <3)
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© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + animated divider by cafekitsune. heart lights divider by benkeibear. manga header made by me - DO NOT save/use.
594 notes · View notes
inkykeiji · 9 months
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you be my revolver, i got you in my hands
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character: choso kamo x fem!reader
genre: curseless!au, smut
notes: eeee first choso piece ever!!! i had such a blast writing this and i wish i could’ve gotten it finished in time for christmas but alas! anyway, please enjoy this and as always please heed the warnings below and stay safe! | title credit: girl like me by dove cameron
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (reader + choso are family friends), age gap, bratty reader, rough sex, minimal prep, teasing, hints of manipulation, hints of dubcon, size kink, pet names
words: 6k
synopsis:
“Maybe you should stop calling me that.” “What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…”  “Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—” “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.” 
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Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you.
You’ve known each other for a long time—so long Choso’s lost count of the years, now, having met you when Yuuji was just a toddler (and you were, too) at the bus stop on Yuuji’s first day of Pre-K, only to discover you lived a mere few houses from each other—but you haven’t seen each other in a long time, too. 
It’s not through fault of either of you; life had gotten in the way, as it has a tendency to do so, had grown busy with intricacies and obligations that demanded time and attention, tangling around you and keeping you apart. 
You had both embarked on university endeavours; him pursuing his PhD, you continuing your undergrad, had both stuffed more and more into your lives—art shows and book readings and music festivals and tropical trips—and lost space for each other in the process.
Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you, but it feels as though no time has passed at all, as it normally does with family—you’re still just as bratty as you’ve always been (some things never change, he guesses; some things you’ll never grow out of, he supposes). 
Family.
Family is not a word he uses lightly, but you and yours had quickly become his and theirs, had quickly become ours, morphing from neighbours to friends to practically kin, members mixing to form something special, a hybrid of some sort, stuck somewhere between long-standing family friends and blood relatives. 
Which is why how you’re acting—how you’ve been acting, this entire winter break—is so undeniably inappropriate. 
And although he’s lost track of the years, everything beginning to blur together, to melt and flow and shift and breathe, he still remembers the day he told you to call him onii-chan. 
That he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.
Yuuji’s so lucky, you had pouted, kicking at the sandy ground with the toe of your shoe and swaying a little on the swing. He has a big brother. I don’t. I’ve always wished I had one. Sighing, you looked away, fingers tangling in the chain. But I’ll never get one; it’s impossible. 
It’s not impossible, Choso had responded gently, nudging his swing against your own. I’ll be your big brother, if you want. 
And you—well, you had been so incredibly happy, all bright smiles and sunshine eyes and breathless giggles, to have a big brother to call your own.
Never in his life did he think he’d come to regret such a decision.
But you seem to be on a mission to make him, this Christmas.
Because you’re really testing his fucking patience, this Christmas.
The term of endearment oozes from your lips as if it’s melted in the wet heat of your mouth every single time, always paired with your worst behaviour: bending over in those short, sweet, slutty skirts and flashing cute Christmas panties at him; placing a hand much too high to be appropriate on his thigh as you watch a film together, leaning close to his ear to murmur out a silky question you already know the answer to; twining your ankles with his beneath the dinner table and gazing at him with eyes full of sin, leaning so far forward on the table that your tits swell, nearly spilling from the too-low neckline of your dress, then giggling when you catch him ogling. 
As a result, he’s been meticulous about avoiding being alone in a room with you—he doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t trust what he might do, especially if you start playing your little games—but he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time until you get want you want. 
Because it always is. 
And on Christmas Eve, you finally succeed. 
Somehow, you’ve managed to get him alone in his childhood bedroom—something about wanting to flip through his old sketchbooks, to search for some doodles he had drawn for you many years ago, to rip the pages from the spiral-bound spine and stuff them in your back pocket, for safekeeping, you had claimed. 
Tugging at his heartstrings, that’s how you succeeded. 
Sitting on the edge of his small twin bed, thighs slotted up against one another and both of your arms looped around one of his, he flips through the curling pages of his drawings, smudged with graphite and pastels. 
“Oh, I remember this one!” 
A dainty finger points to a cute kitten sketched out in astonishing detail, with a pink nose and a satin ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. 
“It’s you,” he smirks. “You asked me what animal you’d be, and then demanded I draw you as a kitten when I responded with a cat.” 
“You drew a lot of me,” you lean forward, swelling breasts pressed flush to his bicep, a palm sitting high on his thigh as avid eyes scan over the spread, gaze stuttering as it sweeps from doodle to doodle. 
“I drew a lot for you,” he says, the observation entirely unthinking. “You wanted a specific page, but I might as well give you this whole sketchbook. More than half the pieces in here are for you.” 
It’s a fact that shocks him in its authenticity, a realization that sends a painful, sick thrill searing through his body, saliva beginning to collect in the dips beneath his tongue.
“I’m such a lucky girl,” you hum out in a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his arm and looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I have such a good big brother.” 
“You’re spoiled,” he says, but his voice holds no malice, eyes softening as he stares down at you, a small smile on his lips. 
“I dunno about that,” you frown, but mischief glints in your eye. “You haven’t really given me what I’ve wanted all holiday…” 
Blood turns to shards of ice in his veins, whole body going rigid as his breath stalls in his throat, pounding heartbeat reverberating in his ears. 
“Wh-What’s that?”
He doesn’t want to ask it, doesn’t mean to ask it, but the question claws at his tongue, pries past his teeth and tumbles from his lips in a ragged, tangled heap.
And the smile that spreads across your face is nothing short of sinister, that glint flaring to a sharp shine as your pupils breathe, pulse, swallow him whole. 
“A Christmas kiss,” you say, stare unblinking and intense as your hand slips between his legs, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh, a mere centimetre or two away from his cock. 
The motion makes him jolt, hips involuntarily twitching toward your touch, brushing his half-hard cock against your knuckles.
“That’s all I want,” you sigh almost dreamily, tits pressed harder into his bicep as you lean closer, so tight they’re practically being squeezed from your sweetheart neckline. “A kiss from my onii-chan. Though…” 
Trailing off, your hand slides up a little further, pinky and ring finger tiptoeing along the rapidly hardening lump in his jeans, squealing out a short giggle as it jumps beneath your touch.
“I’m not sure that’s all onii-chan wants.”
“Onii-chan doesn’t want anything from you,” he breathes out, but his voice is rough, unconvincing, his hands curled into firm fists on his bedspread, trembling slightly, skin stretched taut across pointed knuckles.
“Another lie,” your lips tug down, voice saturated with disappointment. “You know, good big brothers don’t lie to their siblings,” you fix him with a look, glaring through feathery lashes, expression teetering dangerously on the edges of a pout.
A shiver skitters through his bones, whole body stiffening. His jaw flexes as he grinds his molars, a slow, controlled breath exhaled out his nose, his eyes flicking down. You’re still touching him, two fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his clothed cock.
“Maybe you should stop calling me that.”
“What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…” 
“Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.” 
“That—That—” he swallows hard, dense saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. “That doesn’t matter—We shouldn’t—”
“But—” your lip juts out further, forehead crinkling. “But I want to.” 
You can’t always get what you want. 
That’s what he wants to tell you. That’s what he wishes he could tell you. But it just isn’t fucking true, when it comes to you. 
“Stop,” he says instead, and although it’s supposed to be an order, it comes out as a plead, his voice hoarse, strained, thin, the proclamation high and false and tinny. 
“You’re a terrible liar,” the tip of your index finger traces the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “Did you know that?” 
He does, he does know that. He’s a terrible liar, eyes too honest, voice too sincere, expressions too candid, always giving away his true intentions and forthright thoughts.
He’s a terrible discipliner, too, incapable of saying no, of refusing his siblings anything. You know this, too. 
“St—” he tries to force the word from his tongue again, protest sticking in his throat. Stop, stop, he wants you to stop, he needs you to stop, please. 
But that’s a lie, too, the rejection refusing to take shape, to mold into something audible, something tangible, something worthwhile. 
No matter how much he wishes it were true, he can’t will it to become true—not when he wants this just as badly as you do, his straining cock exposing his real desires to you.
You’ve already taken full notice of it, yearning for you through rough denim, hot and hard and throbbing. The pad of your finger rubs over the slit in rhythmic motions, smooth and gliding, aided by the copious amount of pre-cum oozing through the material, and it jerks beneath your touch, eager for more attention. 
“It’s so hard, onii-chan,” your hand cups the impressive bulge, rolling it in your palm, a girlish giggle tickling your tongue. “It—It’s throbbing, onii-chan.” 
“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he breathes, attempting to keep his tone stern and his eyes stony. 
“It’s making me want to ride it,” you whimper loudly, squeezing your thighs together, completely ignoring his question. “Oh, please, onii-chan, can I ride your cock?” 
“Fu-fuck,” the curse breaks on his tongue, eyes shut tightly, breaking away from your invasive stare. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck.” 
No. 
“I’d really like to ride it, onii-chan.”
No. 
“Can I? Pretty please?”
No-no-no-no-no! 
He wants to say no. He should say no. It’s the right thing to do. 
He’s the older brother, the eldest brother, it’s his duty to say no, to mentor, to lead by example. 
But he can’t. 
He can’t form the word in his throat, can’t mold it into a sound and push it from his mouth. 
He’s never truly been able to, when it comes to you—and he was so fucking stupid to think he would.
Because, as always, you are making it exceptionally difficult to deny, gazing up at him with shimmering eyes like that, mouth licked raw in anticipation, bottom lip bitten puffy from the front teeth constantly sinking into it.
“I—It isn’t right—” he attempts, swallowing thickly, cords in his neck straining, desperately attempting to quell the tremor in his voice.
He knows you don’t care. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t, either, his morality eroded to nothing more than a farce, a thin façade, not nearly strong enough to force him into doing the right thing, not nearly strong enough to fortify his rapidly waning self-discipline.
“I—I won’t tell,” you whimper, and he can see the fine film of tears lacquering your eyes, shielding lust-blown pupils. “Pinky promise! I just—I just want you so badly,” your nose twitches cutely with a sniffle, your bottom lip beginning to waver with infinitesimal quivers, soft palm caressing his cock like you love it. “Please, onii-chan?”
And Christ, you’re so pretty, so pouty, with your glistening puppy-dog eyes and pleads dripping from your lips like thick syrup. 
How could he possibly say no to something so precious? How could anyone?
“Alright,” he whispers, defeated, eyes squeezing shut as he nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”
“Really?”
And just like that, the tears are incinerated from your eyes, gaze bright and blazing with excitement, lips molded into a brilliant smile. 
You look so sickeningly beautiful when you get what you want. 
“Yes,” he nearly whimpers, and it’s pathetic, his hips twitching up into your touch, craving, desperate. “Yes, yes, ride my cock.” 
The affirmative is all you need, squealing a little with happiness as you climb into his lap, fingers up your own skirt to push your soaked panties to the side, other hand pawing clumsily at his waistband.
“Thank you,” you breathe, the words soaking into his neck, sealed with a sloppy kiss. “Oh, thank you, onii-chan.” 
He can’t help but chuckle a little as his hands find your waist, instinctive, steadying you. 
“Eager little thing, aren’t you.”
“This is all I want,” you tell him, pulling back a little to search his face. “S’all I’ve wanted for a long time.” 
He wants to ask you to elaborate on that, confusion warping his brow, but then you’re yanking at his belt loops and pulling at his zipper and wrapping a soft palm around the base of his cock, a heavy groan vibrating in his throat. 
“Wait, wait!” he chokes on a gasp as you hover over his cock, head bumping against your hole. “Let me—”
“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine out, petulant and stringy, whole face scrunched in frustration. “I’ve been waiting! I want your cock in me now!”
Fuck, you’re such a fucking brat, he’s growling as he forces you down on his cock in one swift motion, the sudden intrusion pushing a yelp from your lips. Your forehead knocks against his, sugar-stained breath wafting across his face, his tongue darting out to mop up remnants from his mouth. 
It’s really cute, the way your little cunt spasms around his shaft as he bottoms out, pressed snug and tight against your cervix, desperate in its attempt to adjust to his girth. It’s really sweet, the way your body splits itself open for him, cracking at the core and struggling to swallow him down.
“Oh, it’s so big, onii-chan!” 
“God,” he nearly sobs. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?” 
Giggling, you wind your arms around his neck tighter, nuzzling your cheek into his skin, then stringing a garland of wet kisses along the line of his jaw. 
“S’really thick, Choso-nii,” you tell him honestly, nodding in lethargic little motions. “I feel so full, onii-chan.” 
A laugh falls from his lips, breathy and exalted. 
“I don’t know if it’s that I’m big, or if it’s just that your cunt is so fucking small,” his voice tapers off into a whine, raspy and gruff. 
“H-Hurts a little, onii-chan,” you admit in a whimper, hips shifting in experimental little movements, conjuring a groan from deep within his chest. 
“Yeah? And who’s fault is that, huh?” he asks for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Who was too impatient to let onii-chan prep her?”
“Don’t care,” you mumble. “Wanted you s’bad.” 
He laughs again, warm and gentle and full of love, his hands squeezing your hips just enough to make you gasp, fingertips pressing his name into your flesh in blotchy little ovals of purple. 
“You have me,” he says, his words ringing clear and true with a painful sincerity. 
The vibrations of your responding hum seep from your chest into his, and he sighs, body deflating against yours, pleasant little tingles snuggling between his ribs. 
You stay like that for a moment to two, wound up in one another, chests pressed flush, breathing as one. Your auras ebb and flow, presences bleeding, tangling together and creating something that is neither one nor the other but both, a single shared entity. 
And it’s nice, it’s real, it’s natural.
But then you become impatient, as you normally do, as he knew you would, wiggling a little in his lap, fingers twining in the strands at the base of his neck. 
“Go on, sweetheart,” he urges gently. “Ride onii-chan’s cock.” 
And so you do, hips beginning to roll in slow, languid circles, fingers still laced at the back of his skull, half-buried in messy ink.
He allows you to set the pace, allows you to take your time, allows you to enjoy and savour every rock and grind and bounce, staring at you through heavily lidded eyes, hands on your waist merely guiding you—keeping you stable, just like a big brother should. 
He’s absolutely breathtaking; gaze glittering in the dim light overflowing with awe, spit-slicked lips licked raw and shimmering as his tongue glides over them again, swollen and bitten cherry red.
You can’t help but reach out to trace his features; the strong line of his brow, the delicate curve of his cheek, the enticing bow of his lips, hips slowing to uneven little ruts as you hone your focus, his eyes observing you with a sick sort of fascination.
“Did you—Have you—Have you thought about this before?” 
The question stings his tongue, revulsion flushing through his blood as guilt pricks his flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly.
“Course I have,” you breathe out with a little laugh, as if he’s so silly for thinking you might not have. “Actually, I—I—”
A sudden shyness overtakes you, an unsure giggle on your lips fading into a soft squeal as you hide in his shoulder, shaking your head a little. 
“What? Huh?” he shrugs, nudging your face up gently, curiosity clawing at his irises as they search your face, voracious. “What?” 
“Well, sometimes I…” 
The words tangle in your throat and you choke on them, gaze fleeing his own, and you shake your head again, chest beginning to stammer.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. “You can tell onii-chan, go on.” 
There are tears in your eyes now, mouth wobbling a little with the verging confession, and God, that’s so hot, why is that so fucking hot? 
“Where’s my brave little sister gone now? Hmm?”
“M’right here, onii-chan,” you whisper, face teetering on a wince, as if you’re bracing for a blow, terrified to admit to him, fearing reprimand. “It’s just that—Sometimes I do, um, really bad things with my stuffies while—while thinking about you…” 
Dewdrops of shame glitter in your lashes as your lids flutter, nose scrunching with a soft sniffle, tears breaking free of their wispy confines to roll down your cheeks in fat, glimmering streams—so fucking beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom—but you don’t dare break his stare, gazing at him through a thick shield of water. 
“Oh, Christ,” he coughs on the curse, hands flexing on your waist, blunt nails digging into your skin. “And what—what do you think about?” 
“Um,” your gaze flits from his own, to his wrinkled bedspread, then back to his face, wide and honest. “Riding you, like this. And—And riding your thighs, makin’ a real mess all over them, and your thick fingers too, filling me up…” 
Bolts of dizziness sear his brain as his lungs deflate, oxygen eaten up by pure lust and leaving his chest buzzing, burning, some sort of response mangling itself in his throat, escaping his lips as nothing more than a cracked moan.
“Do you think about me, onii-chan?” 
Your question pulls him from the depths of his hedonism and he blinks, your face swimming into view, a peculiar mix of hope and cognizance infusing your expression, eyebrows raised with false curiosity, a smirk twitching on your lips.
Ah, there she is, that brat he knows so well, that brat he’s come to crave, every ounce of uncertainty eradicated from your face, replaced with assured confidence, contradicting the tears still staining your cheeks.
You fucking know he does. 
And, oh, how he wishes he was stronger, how he wishes he could lie, how he wishes he could devour the smugness in your eyes and complacency in your smile, to humble you, to knock you from your high throne.
He settles for a kiss instead, mouth crushed to yours as a large hand cups your head, thumb pressing into your ear, fingertips dragging across your scalp as he yanks you closer. 
It hurts, his front teeth scraping against your lip as he practically gnaws his way to your tongue, his own big and thick and so fucking strong as it overwhelms yours, shoving it further into the cavern of your mouth and forcing it to stay put as he explores. 
He’s making a real mess as he slathers over your molars, over the inside of your cheeks and the backs of your teeth, drenching your mouth in him. Drool oozes steadily from the corners, collecting along the underside of his bottom lip and leaving his chin sticky and slick. 
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes shut so tightly his whole forehead crinkles, mouth wet and sliding against your own. “Yes, yes, I think about you—much too often.”
Nose nudging yours, he nuzzles into your face a little, planting a chaste kiss to your lips, then peppering a few more, quick and sloppy, around your mouth.
“But right now, I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to feel you creaming all over my cock—you think you can do that for me, princess?” His palms cushion your cheeks, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, then brushing strands of damp hair from your temples. “You think you can do that for your onii-chan?” 
Yes you can, of course you can, you’re nodding, blinking the last remnants of tears from your eyes, rapid movement eliminating the final stubborn drops, clinging delicately to your outer lashes. 
“S’it, baby,” he encourages as your hips start moving again, working up a steady rhythm. “Just like that, good girl.”
A mewl slips from your lips, burrowing your scalding face in his sticky neck again, his undivided attention almost too much to bear. 
“Like it when you call me a good girl,” you murmur, lips dragging across his skin with the confession, streaking him with thick glimmers of spit. 
“Is that so?” he laughs a little, pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. “That’s because you don’t hear it often.” 
Lifting your head, you scowl at him, though there’s no heat to your glare, fury dimmed by fondness, unable to smother the smile playing with your lips.
A dazzling smile spreads across his own face in response, and he laughs again, his eyes so bright, so brilliant they almost hurt, blazing like two small suns, scorching your skin as his gaze glides over it.
He watches you like a man possessed, a man obsessed, entirely entranced by the way pleasure passes over your face, twisting your features into the cutest little winces as you grind the head of his cock against your cervix, then smoothing them out with bliss as his shaft drags along your favourite spot, bouncing in shallow little motions to rub over that fleshy patch hard and fast, a stream of mewls spilling from your lips, stitched together with his honorific. 
“You’re so pretty when you ride my cock,” he groans, words tapering off into a hoarse whimper, as if it pains him to admit it. 
His palms run up your sides, fingers counting over each rib, hands committing every dip and curve and bulge to memory, marvelled by the way you fill his grip, as if he can’t believe you’re real, you’re here, you’re his—even if just for tonight.
“Yeah, yeah, keep going, use onii-chan like a toy, sweetheart.” 
And he tries to be patient, he swears he does—tries not to rush you, tries to relish in the moment, in each swirl of your hips and every puff of his name—except your pace never accelerates, never moves past anything but teasing as you use his now aching cock to continually edge yourself; moans building higher and higher, louder and louder, on the cusp of the crest before they disintegrate into nothing and you start the process all over again, the delicate fluttering of your cunt enough to drive him fucking insane with desire.
It has his entire form trembling with such vigour it’s quivering the mattress, muscles locked stiff and tight as he tries to keep from moving, from bucking up wildly, from forcing you to speed the hell up. Rough fingers sink into your flesh so deep it dimples, a pathetic attempt to ground himself, rapidly blooming bruises staining your flesh.
But he’s powerless to stifle the whines leaking through the gaps of his gritted teeth, hands flexing on your hips, whole body pulled taut with restraint. 
He’s sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, eager and impatient, begging you to move faster, to fuck him harder. 
But you aren’t going to do any of that—not unless he asks for it, he realizes dimly, after you bring yourself to near orgasm for the third time in a row, giggling a little at his crestfallen expression, his hair having fallen almost completely from its trademark spiky buns, braided fishermen sweater soaked with sweat and sticking to his now heaving chest.
He really thought it was real this time. He really thought you were finally going to cream all over him, so he could finally flip you over and fuck you properly, pound you into the mattress and stuff that pretty, cute little cunt to the goddamn brim with his seed.
He’d been trying so hard to be nice, to be the loving, doting, good big brother he is—but he’s also only human, and there’s only so much misbehaviour he can bear before, finally, he snaps. 
Because, sure, big brothers are meant to care for, to lead and to nurture, but they’re also meant to teach, to punish, to put bratty little sisters back in their fucking place. 
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Huh?” his grip on your hips tightens, halting you from moving. “You think I’m fucking stupid?” 
“Never, Choso-nii,” you gasp, astonished. “I would never—” 
Sincerity rings in your voice, but he can see it, the mischief tugging at the corners of your mouth, barely suppressed by your façade of innocence.
Anyone else would’ve been fooled—enchanted by your doe eyes and your dainty voice. 
But not him.
No, he knows better now. 
“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed sharply. “You wanted to ride my cock, but you’re clearly incapable of it—”
“No I’m not!”
“—So it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
“No! I—I can do it!” you cry, face crumpled in fury, nails scrabbling at his shoulders.
“You lost your chance to prove it to me,” he growls. 
The world flips suddenly, momentarily a blur of inks and ivories, a breath of surprise punched from your ribs as your back slams against the mattress, trapped between the bedspread and your big brother’s heaving chest.
“You have been testing me all fucking holiday,” he snarls, specks of spit splattering across your cheeks. “Onii-chan shouldn’t give you his cum—onii-chan shouldn’t have given you his cock at all!” 
A certain type of haughtiness corrodes your shock, lips spreading into a pompous smirk.
“Oh, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, onii-chan.” 
“You little bitch!” 
His hips shove forward, forcing you further into the plush of the mattress, cockhead ramming against your cervix. A little noise of pain vibrates on the back of your tongue, shattering your arrogance, and a grin smears across his face, glinting in the moonlight. 
“I think it’s time your big brother teach you a lesson in respect.”
“Y-Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”
“You’re going to take what onii-chan gives you, and you’re going to fucking like it. And then, at the end, when you’ve gone stupid from the cock you don’t deserve, you’re going to thank me for giving it to you at all. Do you understand me?” 
Defiance shines in your eyes, lacquered by a thin coating of tears, nose scrunching up in a glower. 
A rough thumb and forefinger, hardened by charcoals, clamps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with such force that your mouth puckers, a sticky little whine squealing in your throat.
“Do you understand me?” he asks again, each word said slow with purpose, each word annunciated with intent, his eyes boring into yours, sharp and painful. 
Finally, those tears push past your bloated lashes, shoved from your eyes by rapid blinking and rolling down your cheeks in glistening pairs, a half-stifled hiccup stuttering your chest. 
“Y-Yes,” you whisper, nose twitching. 
“What was that? Onii-chan couldn’t hear you.” 
“Yes, onii-chan.” 
“Good girl.”
And then his hips are snapping, hard and fast and immediate, fucking into you with such ruthlessness that it jostles your body up the bed, sheets collecting in little wrinkled bunches beneath you. Your nails sink into his shoulders, piercing flesh through the knit of his sweater, the muscles in your thighs tensing as your ankles hook around his waist, his shirt riding up, your heels digging into the those cute little dimples that cushion the base of his spine. 
It hurts, every pound of his cock producing a dull, throbbing ache low and deep in your gut, another torrent of tears rushing to flood your vision.
“Ch-Choso-nii, Ch-Choso-nii,” you whimper, face screwed up in pain, his name stuttered by his rapid thrusts.
“What’s the matter?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending, dripping from his lips in an over-exaggerated coo. “Can’t take onii-chan’s cock?”
The question wafts across your face in a panted breath and you lick at your lips, sopping it up with your tongue.
“N-No,” you say, and that telltale brattiness is back, watered down by his viciousness. “I can do it—I-I can do it for you, onii-chan.” 
A throaty curse escapes his lips, thrusts stammering out of rhythm for a moment as his cock twitches, and a helpless giggle bubbles up in your throat.
Even angry, he’s still so fucking easy. 
He regains his composure quickly, though, face hardened to stone but beginning to splinter with pleasure. 
“Brat,” he breathes out, though there’s mirth shining in his eyes, pure and fond and full of love. “You better.”
And even angry, he still sounds so fucking pretty; cracked moans and dense groans and choked gasps, all flowing from his mouth in a single stream, fractured by the piston of his hips.
The pain doesn’t fade, of course—it barely diminishes at all, the sheer massiveness of his cock making it near impossible to be dispelled, keeping the cramping pang in the pit of your belly steady and constant—but it does amplify the pleasure, nerves gnawed raw by the agony, left hypersensitive to the sparks of ecstasy that blaze through your veins with every quick, rough pump of his hips, every deep, hard slam against your bruised cervix, every rapid drag over that engorged spot.
It leaves you feeling high, leaves you feeling stupid, brain melting in a hot haze of lust and rendering you incapable of forming a single coherent thought beyond how incredible his cock is, his name and his title the only two things your sloppy, numb tongue can fully scrape together.
It’s all so much, too much, but it all feels so fucking good—s’good, Choso-nii, y’r so-so good—sentiment vibrating indistinctly in your chest.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, words gone wispy, fading into a whine. “Does your onii-chan’s cock make you feel good?”
Yes, yes, yes, onii-chan, it’s so good, you’re so good! 
Your head nods frantically, fingers curling in the collar of his sweater, a mess of affirmatives fucked from your mouth. 
“Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re too cockdrunk to misbehave,” he chuckles a little, biting back a moan as your cunt clenches at the compliment. “May-Maybe onii-chan should fuck you stupid more often, huh?” 
Oh, God, yes, onii-chan; oh, please, onii-chan! 
“Yeah, you’d like that a bit too much, though, wouldn’t you, you little sl—ah—slut.”
Drool dribbles from the sides of your mouth as you continue nodding, eyes wide and unblinking, encrusted with stars. 
“Y’so pretty, onii-chan,” you manage to mumble out, sentiment tangled in threads of spit, fingers flexing in the fabric of his sweater, as if they yearn to touch but can’t find the strength to carry out the action.
And he is, so beautiful it’s borderline sickening, strands of onyx plastered to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, strung together in clumps and saturated in sweat; damp skin glittering in the waning moonlight spilling through the slits of his window, dewdrops catching delicately in the beams as he pounds into you, every drive of his cock accelerating his pace.
“W-Wan’your cum now,” you slur the demand through a lax pout, lids beginning to weight with exhaustion, heavy as they frame dopey eyes.
“Yeah?” he laughs a little, gaze shining with adoration, and it’s breathless, it’s beautiful, his affection wafting over your scalding face. “Onii-chan needs you to cream all over his cock first. Can you—” a grunt cuts him off, and he whimpers, pushing through his sentence, his voice strained. “Can y’do that for me, angel?” 
“Uh-huh, uh—uh-huh,” your head begins nodding more fervently again, pushing your lids open with some effort to stare up at him, pupils swelling with devotion and determination.
“Then show me—Show me how gorgeous my good girl looks when she’s making a mess all over her big brother’s cock.” 
Three more thrusts and your cunt is obeying, convulsing on his thick shaft as heat gushes around him, so much that you can hear it—a sick, slick squelching as he jackhammers into you, your essence coating his thighs in a shiny layer of arousal. 
“Oh, fuck,” his eyes shut tightly before springing open again, suddenly rabid, ravenous. 
The bed creaks as his hips speed up, skin sticky with arousal as it slaps against your own, the sharp sound mingling with his ragged pants and your hitched mewls.
“Onii—Nii-chan,” you nearly wail, fingers tangling weakly in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping against his flesh. “Please, please, cum, gimme—gimme y’r cum!” 
“Greedy little thing,” he rasps out, voice cracking into a whine. 
But you don’t care, you can’t care, pleads spilling from your lips as your thighs tense around his waist, hips twitching in erratic little motions, crudely trying to fuck yourself on him.  
“Need it, need it, onii-chan, fill my belly with it, onii-chan, please!” 
“Christ,” he chokes on the curse, pace faltering as he finally gives his baby sister what she wants, cock throbbing almost violently while it fills you with hot, thick cum, so much you swear you really can feel it, stuffing your belly as full as it can be, tummy bulging cutely with his seed.
You must tell him that, sentiment slipping from your lips without your permission, because he moans again, his cock giving another weak spurt, hips stuttering as he tries to fuck further into you, grinding the head into your sore cervix. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you’re murmuring, hips rolling up to meet his own. “Push it into me, onii-chan, push it into my cunt nice n deep, do-don’t waste a single drop!” 
“You really are gonna be the death of me,” he whines, face buried in your hair as he collapses on top of you, hips still moving in lazy little circles, shudders of overstimulation rippling through his form. 
“Mm,” you hum, on the cusp of unconsciousness, nuzzling your face into his neck like a kitten, then lapping at a few droplets of sweat streaming down the column. “What are lil sisters for?” 
636 notes · View notes
annwrites · 2 months
Text
what happened to you?
— pairing: soldier boy x fem!reader
— type: one-shot
— summary: wishing to make amends, ben ends up on your front porch, only to discover he's too late.
— word count: 3,073
— a/n: i have never watched the boys, so i apologize if any of this is inaccurate, or if i've mischaracterized soldier boy. i gathered what i know/implemented in this fic from tribute vids on yt & reading his fandom wiki.
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You were his greatest regret.
But not for the reasons you might think. Or, rather, might’ve thought.
As he stands in front of a familiar porch that he hasn’t seen since the mid-forties, listening to wind-chimes softly tinkling in the breeze, and birds chirping in the apple tree out front, he doesn’t feel the sense of calm he’d expected—hoped for. Instead… He’s sure if a Geiger meter were nearby, it’d be playing a symphony.
He takes one measured step up, onto the front porch, and then another, and another, until he’s standing before the front door—his shoes resting over a mat which welcomes him—with a raised fist that wavers.
Perhaps he’s not welcome here.
He shouldn’t be. Not after how he’d left before.
How could he have left like that?
How could he have expected you to react any differently?
You’d been right. He was, and will forever now be, ‘just an empty suit’.
Finally, he knocks, heart hammering away in his chest, knowing he needs to get himself under control. And quickly.
Slowly, the door opens, the storm screen being pushed outward by an elderly man—fine lines crease his tan, weathered face, his silver hair carefully combed to the side, and he dons a light blue button-up, with beige slacks.
His brows furrow. “Can I help you?”
“I… I’m looking for someone. She lived here a long time ago. Do you happen to know a woman by the name of Y/N?”
The man studies him for a moment. “You mean to say you knew my mother, young man?”
Young man… If only.
“You’re…her son.”
He nods. “I am.”
“Is she here, then? Or, do you have her address so I can—”
“She died. Thirteen years ago.”
His world stops spinning.
He had known that there would be a likely chance. A more than likely chance that this was how it would turn out. But he’d needed to come. Had needed to try.
And he was too late.
He swallows thickly. “I—I don’t know if you know who I am—”
The man looks him over once more, then nods. “I know who you are. I used to watch you on our television set. Well, when I could sneak a peak in, that is.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Thinking of it—thought they said you died yourself? Over in Africa or something, wasn’t it?”
Ben shakes his head. “It’s a long story.”
Chris turns his body sideways then, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “Would you like to come inside, Benjamin?”
His heart stutters, and he just stares.
This had been your home. He doesn’t know that he should…
“Would she have wanted that?” He asks doubtfully.
The man sighs. “To tell you the truth, I think she’d have let you in, just the same as me. You came back after all this time, didn’t you? Must count for something. To make amends, maybe. Never did tell us the full story. Either way, it’s my house now, and I say you’re allowed.”
He steps over the threshold.
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Ben sits at the dining table that’s next to the kitchen, just on the other side of a high marble counter, flipping through pages of an old photo album—full of memories.
Of you. Your family. Your life.
Meanwhile, Christopher, your eldest son, makes himself busy in the kitchen preparing a fresh pot of coffee.
“I always wanted one of those action figures of you, you know,” he says.
He rummages around in a cabinet for a moment. “Begged and pleaded for one one Christmas. Momma always told me no. Finally, daddy took and sat me down one night and told me if I asked anymore it’d end with a whoopin’. That he and momma had made it clear you were not welcome in our home in any form. So, I knew it was pretty serious, because he never raised a hand to any of us.”
He waves his hand. “I just thought I’d be able to win her over with puppy-dog eyes like always, but she held firm. After that, I stopped asking. Got a different one instead. Forget what it was now.”
He shrugs, pouring a cup of coffee, and then another, returning to the table.
He sets one down before Ben, who’s seated at the head of the table. He takes the chair to his right, groaning as he sits.
“No fun in getting old,” he says with a wink, but Ben doesn’t smile.
He takes a sip of his coffee. “Guess you wouldn’t know much about it, though. Must be strange sometimes, I reckon.”
Ben flips another page of the album, not bothering with touching his mug. “You have no idea.”
He nods. “Oh, I do. The things these kids get up to nowadays…”
He shakes his head. “No sense anymore. I’m just glad momma passed before it got to the point it’s at now. Not knowing who or what they are—men dressin’ as women and vice versa. Would’ve broken her heart to see.”
He sets his mug down. “She and daddy loved this country. To see it in shambles the way it is—after he fought for it on that beach—”
Ben looks at him. “He was at Normandy?”
Chris nods. “Says you never were. That true?”
Ben is quiet for a moment and then he nods. “It is. I got there two weeks later. It was just propaganda. Just like everything else I ever did.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “A lie.”
Chris shakes his head softly, but doesn’t reply.
Ben smiles at a photo of you sitting on the front porch, smiling softly as you hold your swollen belly between your hands.
Chris glances to it. “That was her and me. Eight children… You believe that? I don’t know how they do it.”
“She always wanted a big family,” Ben replies, turning the page.
“By golly if dad didn’t help give her one. Those two were in love as two people can be. They met in Europe, you know? During the war.”
Ben’s head shoots up. “They did?”
Chris nods. “They’d eventually both been put on the same base. She was a nurse, as you know. And the first time he saw her, he said his heart stopped. Said he turned to the guy next to him, pointed to momma and said ‘that woman is going to be my wife’.”
Ben recalls how he had the exact same reaction when he first met you himself. Being left speechless by the kind look in your beautiful eyes.
No one had ever looked at him like that before. He’d wanted so desperately for them to—for his father to—but they hadn’t. Not until you walked into his life, that is.
Chris grins, shrugging. “Said the fella laughed at him. Said she hardly talked to anyone, so she wasn’t going to be talking to him, neither.”
He looks at Ben. “It was after you disappeared, turns out. But he started comin’ in every day to see her. Flowers in-hand. When he could get a hold of some, that is. When he couldn’t, he’d walk miles off-base when he had a weekend pass and would pick bushels of them so he’d have enough before he got another chance to go out. The guys ribbed him for it, but he didn’t care a lick.”
He takes another sip of his coffee. “Just used to say that after he sets eyes on her, she’d never be lonely again.”
“Sounds like he was telling the truth,” Ben replies quietly.
He clear his throat then. “Did she ever…talk about me?”
Christopher grows serious. “Not if she could help it. If you so much as came on the television set or the radio, she’d just quietly tell us: ‘turn it off’. We asked her why, but she’d just shake her head. It was daddy that took me out in the garage one day—they always had us up to somethin’; momma would have the girls in the house cooking, cleaning, sewing, while daddy would have the boys outside with him—while he worked on our old Coupe, and he told me that you were no hero to them. That the men who fought and died on those beaches and battlefields were. And you weren’t that. Said you were just…how’d he say that, again? Empty suit?”
Ben swallows thickly. “I hope you listened to ‘em. Found better idols.”
“Oh, me and my brothers worshiped the ground our old man walked on. Just thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Thought he knew and could do every and anything. He was a good man. But he’s gone now, too. Was about a year after momma.”
He stares out the window. “He never was the same after she passed. Used to talk about her like she was still here. Would tell us all the time ‘she’ll be back real soon, just had to run to the store’. I think he just couldn’t accept her being gone. Still gives me chills when I think about his last night with us. He looked right at me—we were just sitting on the porch out there enjoying the evening—and tells me ‘I’m going to see your mother tonight’. We found him the next morning in bed, clutching her robe to his chest.”
He sniffles, clearing his throat. “So we put him next to her. He had two plots picked out before they ever even left us. Headstone was ready to go, other than adding in their dates of death.”
Ben looks at him.
“Me and my siblings take turns visiting on the weekends, bringing flowers and telling them about how boring our lives have gotten, while our grandkids are off to college, and getting married, and having babies of their own.”
He smiles wistfully. “My sister, Elizabeth, her granddaughter is named after momma, actually. She’s twenty now. Going to school to become a doctor.”
He shakes his head with a wistful smile. “A doctor.”
He grins, looking at Ben. “Maybe I’ll get my checkups done for free, huh? Medicare only does so much for an old man with a body that’s falling apart.”
Ben wishes he had that problem. But, instead, he’s practically fucking invincible. The Russians had proved that more times than he could count. If an AK-47 being shoved in his mouth as they held down the trigger hadn’t been enough…what would be?
When Ben turns the next page, he stares down at a photo of you hanging laundry on the line.
You’d just been bringing it inside the last time he saw you.
He’d stepped up proudly onto that porch in full regalia—his new suit—a broad smile on his face, and he’d knocked confidently.
You’d called from inside ‘just a moment!’ and he’d breathed in the scent of warm peach cobbler cooling on the windowsill on the other side of the house.
And then you’d opened the door.
And instead of you throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him, smiling at him, or taking his hand in yours as you tugged him inside and into your bedroom, you’d stepped out with furrowed brows.
“You’re here.”
He’d nodded. “Know I’ve been MIA for awhile, but you’ve probably seen on television, or in magazines—”
“What happened to you?”
He had thought, mistakenly, you’d meant after he disappeared from the Army base. When you woke one morning in bed alone, and when you went looking for him, all you found was a broken heart.
“Long story short, sweetheart,” your stomach had turned at that term of endearment rolling off his tongue. “I volunteered for some government testing and now I’m new and improved. The damn hero of the war!”
You’d wrapped your arms around yourself—he hadn’t seen your engagement ring—as you stared up at him.
That previous look of love that you’d had when you gazed up at him at night while he was inside of you was long gone.
“This isn’t you.”
You’d taken a step forward, reaching a hand up, cupping his cheek. “This isn’t the man I fell in love with.”
He’d soured toward you in an instant. First his father and now…
“What, I’m too much for you now?” He’d sneered. “Too much man for you to handle? Well, that’s fine. Because when it comes to women, I have no shortage of them.”
Your eyes had filled with tears.
“It’s like you’re a completely different person,” you’d whispered.
“And for the better,” he’d snapped back. “But that works out just fine. Me being too much, because now? You wouldn’t be nearly enough for a guy like me.”
You’d choked back a sob, cupping a hand over your mouth, the other remaining wrapped around your middle.
He’d wanted to shove a gun in his mouth.
Because the truth was? The ticker-tape parades, the money, and women, and notoriety meant nothing to him.
After receiving further rejection from his father, he’d gone to you. Wanting you to fix it. To make it all better. Just like you had before.
How could he have ever been delusional enough to think a woman like you would ever accept the parody of himself that he’d become?
“Please leave,” you’d choked out. “And don’t come back. I can’t take seeing you wearing that empty suit again.”
He’d flinched. “Believe me, only time you’ll ever see me again will be in the headlines, honey.”
And then he’d walked away, and as he put one foot in front of the other, all he could hear was your heartbroken sobs behind him.
Finally, Ben shuts the photo album, turning to Christopher. “Were her favorite flowers in the end still tulips?”
Chris’ brows had furrowed. “They were.”
Ben had stood. “Can you tell me what cemetery I can find them at?”
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After carefully placing a bouquet of white and pink tulips in the vase mounted atop your side of the headstone, Ben kneels down, gripping the top of it while he looks it over.
On your husband’s side is his name—preceded by his Army rank: corporal—and dates of birth and death, as well as those things he’d been, which had meant the most: beloved son, brother, father, grandfather, and husband. And on yours: beloved daughter, mother, grandmother, and wife.
In the middle are two rings, bound together in stone.
He presses a kiss to the top of your headstone, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry it took me so long to find my way back to you. But I’m here now.”
He sniffles. “Maybe you don’t want me to be.”
He glances to your husband. “Maybe neither of you do. And I’d understand that. I just… I have a lot of things I’d like to say. And I’d like for you both to hear them.”
He sits back, looking at your headstone, his arms wrapped loosely around his bent knees—his hand holding his other wrist. “I went to see your son, Chris. He’s a hell of a kid. Told me stories about the two of you. Told me…”
He shakes his head, glancing away. “I know I broke your heart. I knew it that day. I’d just…hoped maybe you’d forget about me. I wasn’t worth remembering. But I’m sure I was around every goddamn corner you turned. On TV, in the paper, on the news, on store shelves.”
He fucking hates himself for it.
“I never deserved any of it. The only thing I ever really wanted was you. And I threw that chance away. For nothing.”
He laughs without humor. “You want to know what happened to me? In the eighties, the woman I thought I loved…” He shakes his head. “I should’ve known even then it was only ever going to be you.”
He sighs. “She betrayed me. My team did. Handed me off to the Russians. And for three decades they…”
He trails off, then starts again. “The things they did…”
He swallows, shaking his head. “At first I tried to hold onto some misguided hope that she’d come for me. And when I finally resigned myself to the fate of knowing that was never going to happen, I lost myself, instead, in you. You were the only thing I had left to hold onto. I had a whole life with you inside my head…”
He’s quiet for a moment, a small, sad smile playing on his lips as he thinks back on it. “A good life,” he says, nodding.
He runs his hand down his face, wiping away tears. “We had a family. A good marriage. I came back to you and I gave it all up just to have you. And it was the best thing I ever did.”
His shoulders begin to shake. “And then they came and woke me up and tore me away from you. And I realized it had never been real. Not for one goddamn second. I can’t…begin to tell you what that did—has done—to me.”
He looks at your headstone with a watery smile. “But to find out that you got everything you ever wanted? Deserved to have?”
He looks to your husband’s headstone. “Thank you for that. For taking care of our girl. For being the man I never was. I’m just glad she found someone worthy of her. Who deserved her. Because we both know I never did. Thank you for fixing what I broke.”
He looks back to you. “I hope to God you never felt guilty for the things you said to me that day. Because you were the only one willing to. I needed to hear them, even if I didn’t want to. That was your last gift to me: a hard truth. So, thank you.”
He stands, kissing your headstone one last time, his hand fingering a picture in his pocket which Christopher had given him before he’d left—he’d said he’d nearly forgotten he’d had it.
Apparently, the kids had found it in your things after you passed—they’d never told your husband: a photo of you sitting on his lap while he smiled softly at you, you smiling meanwhile at the camera, holding a small American flag in your hand, still in your nurse’s uniform.
At least he’ll have some shred of his humanity to hold onto, with that, in what’s to come. The fact you’d held onto it for all those decades… It’d meant a great deal to him.
“I love you,” he whispers, walking away.
For the final time.
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withleeknow · 3 months
Text
wishful thinking. (07)
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chapter seven: built to break
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summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight
Love Me or Leave Me - Day6
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The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.
Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.
Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u
Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?
Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat
That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.
It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.
You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.
The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.
Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.
It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.
You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.
It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.
You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.
Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.
To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.
Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.
Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.
You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.
You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?
For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.
Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.
There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.
Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.
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When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.
You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.
"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.
"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"I saw them talking at a party once."
"Okay. And?"
"And what? That's it."
"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"
"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."
The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."
You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.
"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.
"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."
You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"
Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."
"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.
The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."
You make a face. "What?"
"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"
Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.
Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.
The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.
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The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.
"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.
You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."
"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"
Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.
You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.
Dove.
His dove.
Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.
"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."
"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."
"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.
"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."
You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.
You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...
He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.
You've missed it. You've missed him.
"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.
"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.
You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.
"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"
"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."
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You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.
Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.
It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.
It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.
Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...
You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.
Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"
It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."
"The project stressing you out?"
"I guess, yeah."
"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"
"Was I what?"
"Were you avoiding me?"
You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.
On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.
Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?
You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.
Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.
"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.
You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.
You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.
When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.
"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.
"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.
"Is everything okay?"
It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.
It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.
Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?
Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.
And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.
You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.
Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"
"What do you mean?"
You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"
Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.
He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."
He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.
Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?
Then he continues, "For me, at least."
And there it is.
It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.
You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.
Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.
He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.
Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.
Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.
One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.
"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."
Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"
"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."
You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.
He takes a step closer, you take a step back.
You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.
He blinks.
"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"
You say nothing.
You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"
"It matters if I did something to upset you."
"You didn't."
"Okay. So?"
This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"
Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.
Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.
"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.
It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.
"So you lied to me?"
"I've never lied to you."
"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."
It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.
The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.
Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.
"You really don't see it, do you?"
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.06.2024]
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taeghi · 2 months
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your little brother, my little secret | teaser
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FULL RELEASE : READ HERE
yn and joy share every secret, until yn returns from university to find joy's little brother jake has become irresistibly hot. maybe keeping just one secret from your best friend won't hurt… right?
PAIRING : best friends little brother!jake x reader
GENRE : smut & angst. jake's (shy) a sub for majority of it. dirty talk, masturbation, degrading + humiliation, & y/n is a menace.
WC : 14k
TAGLIST : ????? (if ur on my perm taglist u dont need to comment) <3
mdni
you’ve been counting down the days until summer for what feels like forever. you’re returning to your hometown for the entire two months you have until university starts again in september. 
you’ve been driving for miles now, just having to go to a university two hours away from your small hometown. but the summer air is thick and humid, and it blows throughout the car as all the windows are down. 
your best friend, joy, sits beside you. you’ve known her for just as long as she has moved into your small town when you both were ten. since then, you’ve shared everything together; every laugh, every tear… every secret. her family feels like your own, summers spent in their backyard, evenings filled with board games and cards. some nights in high school even included sneaking out to a party and drinking until you thought you’d throw up. 
last summer was different. you were abroad doing an internship for university. and you didn’t get a chance to stay long during christmas break. so, it’s been a while since you’ve actually stayed in your hometown with all its familiarities. 
“jake will be home when we get there,” joy says, loud enough to be heard over the wind and faint music. 
“oh right, how’s he liking university?” 
jake is joy’s little brother. he’s always been shy, introverted, prefers to stay home and play video games instead of going out like you and joy. you remember him as a cute kid, all wide eyed and shy smiles. you don’t remember him having much friends, he’d rather be alone in his room. it’s hard for you to imagine him navigating the crowded university, but you suppose he’s all grown up now. it’s been so long since you’ve seen him, and the thought of how much he changed lingers in your mind. 
“he likes it,” joy says, her long black hair blowing out the window, “he’s excited for summer like we are.” 
you nodded in response, thinking maybe jake would go out with you guys now instead of playing video games in his room all summer. 
“we gotta go to hyunjin’s this week!” joy declares, her eyes lighting with anticipation, “you know he’s throwing a big party this week. and then, there’s that new bar that opened downtown. we have to check it out!” 
you agree with joy. her energy is infectious despite her brash (sometimes too brash) exterior. joy has always been more straightforward and perhaps blunt than you are. when sometimes you can be a people pleaser and a pushover, joy is there to say the words you wish you could say. 
“i can’t wait,” you reply, “it’s been too long since we’ve had a proper night out.” 
joy shoots you a mischievous grin, her confidence unwavering, “oh trust me, yn. this summer, we’re going all out.” 
you roll your eyes at your pretty best friend, pulling into her family’s driveway swiftly. 
you and joy step through the front door of the house, a place that is more familiar and comforting than your own. the place smells like a home cooked meal and you are instantly greeted with joy’s parents’ smiles. joy’s mother envelops you in a hug, her warmth and kindness instantly easing any fatigue from the long drive. 
"oh, yn, joy, it's so good to see you both!" joy's mother exclaims, her smile radiant. "dinner will be ready shortly. you must be exhausted after the drive. please, sit down in the living room and relax."
joy's father joins in, his jovial voice filling the room. "how was the trip? traffic wasn't too bad, i hope?" her parents' genuine concern and hospitality are a stark contrast to your own parents. 
"it was fine, dad," joy replies, her tone affectionate yet tinged with a hint of impatience. "we're just glad to be home for the summer."
you smile over your shoulder at her parents as she drags you to the living room. it looks the same as you remember it; comfy fabric couch, family photos on the walls, lit candles around the room that mix with the smell of dinner. 
joy props her feet up on the coffee table as she starts to scroll her phone. a nonchalant smile plays on her lips, “can’t believe we’re back here.” she says with a sigh.
before you can respond, a sudden noise draws your attention towards the backdoor. two figures emerge, their arms swaying as they laugh and push each other. 
“hey guys,” joy's casual greeting halts their antics momentarily, but it's the sight of you on the couch that freezes one of the boys in his tracks. he stands there, awkward and unsure.
the other boy remains cool and confident as he greets joy and walks over to you both on the couch. he stands in front of you, sticking his hand out in front of your face, “i’m heeseung.” 
you look up at him as he stands, his features are chiseled. his eyes are a deep shade of brown. his smile is almost cocky, but disarming as he flashes it effortlessly. there’s an aura of assurance about him, that he knows he’s good looking and he’s confident about it. 
your hand meets his, “i’m y/n.” your eyes flicker back to the boy who remains rooted to the spot, his expression unreadable as he almost quiets away into the wall. 
“are you gonna come hug your sister, jake?” joy squeaks from beside you, she octaves her voice higher to be annoying on purpose. 
it’s then that you realize who is standing there in the corner– you almost didn’t recognize him. 
the shy, nerdy kid you once knew is now standing before– transformed in a way that catches you off guard. where once stood a lanky teenager, now stands a man that is toned and tanned. his hair is longer and tousled in a way that accentuates his features. he’s taller and broader. 
as you take in his appearance, you can’t help but be struck by how insanely hot he has become. 
he shifts nervously, perhaps sensing your gaze. his eyes turn to joy, “no way in hell am i hugging you.” 
joy's mother breezes into the room with a warm smile, "oh jake, give your sister a hug."
joy springs up instantly, tackling jake in a bear hug that's both affectionate and overly enthusiastic. jake groans, awkwardly patting joy's back as everyone chuckles. heeseung, settles down next to you, a confident smirk playing on his lips, his eyes holding a hint of nothing other than flirtatious. 
"right, yn," joy's mother continues, her tone gentle yet teasing, "heeseung here has been keeping jake entertained since you left."
heeseung chimes in, his voice dripping with sarcasm and humor. "yeah, we're inseparable now," he says with a grin.
you laugh, unable to resist teasing. "oh really? i remember jake having no friends at all."
joy joins in, her laughter ringing through the room. "seriously, all he did was stay in his room playing video games."
"be nice, girls," she says playfully. "joy, come help me with dinner. set up a place for heeseung, too."
heeseung stands up with a mock bow. "don't worry, i'll set up my own place."
joy groans at having to help, leaving you and jake alone in the living room, complaining about why she has to help but jake doesn’t. 
jake settles into the chair directly across you, but his body language shows he’s tense and restless and it suggests that he’d rather be anywhere else. he fidgets slightly, fingers rolling over each other in his lap, his eyes darting around the room and avoiding you.
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@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)
stay safe everyone :)
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