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#me: sets up some angst bc why not
jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
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no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
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in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
-
whoops? lol
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satoruxx · 7 months
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SAUDADE.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 3.7k words
✧ SUMMARY: canon au, set after geto leaves so lots of unresolved feelings, alternate between past and present, megumi and tsumiki cameo, satoru has a raging crush on you but you're blind, suguru also had a raging crush on you but you were still blind, slight angst bc canon jjk events, lots of longing on suguru's end, you're confused af, satoru PINES for you and shoko is so tired of him, but overall very fluffy
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: will i ever publish the actual canon au? who knows. this fic is written in that same au but it's just a snippet of their lives. if you've read angel on my shoulder, just know that's an alternate ending of this au where reader dies lol. but this is very sweet bc you don't die !! you and satoru love each other lots but suck at showing it. happy valentine's day everyone <33
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you glance at satoru's giddy smile, wariness creeping up your shoulders before turning to shoko. "what's wrong with him?" you ask, shifting slightly from where you're leaning against one of balconies of jujutsu high.
"who knows?" she sighs, eyes flickering up to glance at the snowy haired sorcerer just barely before they turn back to you. "ignore him."
"hey!" satoru huffs, walking closer to sling an arm around your shoulder—casual, like it's something he doesn't have to think about. you grumble under the extra weight, shooting him a glare, but he's too busy smiling like he's up to something.
"so…" he grins down at you, eyes shining and full of mischief. "know what day it is today?"
you blink at him, trying to scour your brain. "what's the date again?"
satoru gives you a blank stare, before sighing heavily. "god you're slow. it's february 14th, stupid."
"oh," you reply blankly, relaxing because it's nothing inherently important. "so valentine's day?"
satoru's smile comes back full force—cheeky and blinding. "exactly! and when i went shopping today guess what happened?"
"what happened?" shoko asks boredly, shaking her head when she makes eye contact with you.
"well," he drags out the word, crossing his arms like he's pleased with himself. "i was walking along after picking up some sweets because—"
"because you have an addiction," you supplement, and satoru pauses to glare down at you, reaching out to flick a long finger against your forehead.
"it's not an addiction! and don't interrupt me! anyways—"
you smother a smile that shoko mirrors.
"—i was walking and then these two girls came up to me all smiley. like they were giggling and shit, right?"
"uh huh."
"and they started going on and on about how i was the most handsome guy they've ever seen. and then they asked how come i was walking around by myself on valentine's day."
you blink, suddenly feeling a strange mix of interest and irritation.
"so i told them that it's not really my thing and that i didn't have anyone to celebrate with anyway. and then they said it was actually a crime that someone like me was single on valentine's day."
you have to suppress a roll of your eyes, though you're not sure why.
"so basically the moral of the story is that i'm extremely charming and super good-looking too! and that girls love me!"
he looks at you, eyes scrutinizing your expression as you glance at shoko, unimpressed.
"that's it? that's your crazy story?"
"well you guys always say i'm full of it when i call myself hot! now i have proof that it's a universal truth!"
"well we're not stupid—" shoko rolls her eyes, hugging her arms to push away the cold as she leans against the railing. "—we know you're freakishly hot. you're just obnoxious and we like teasing you."
"ugh." satoru rolls his eyes, huffing as he stretches his joints. "you guys are ridiculous. and—"
he pauses, an odd expression crossing his face as he blinks in thought. then he's turning to you with the most smug smirk you've ever seen on him. "wait. you think i'm hot?"
you frown, lips parting in mild confusion. "huh?"
"that's what shoko just said. that you think i'm freakishly hot."
your brows shoot up, an unfamiliar rush of heat crawling up your skin. "but she said both of us! like it's just something that's obvious. i mean as long as you have eyes anyone can see—"
"oh so it's obvious, is it?" satoru's expression is oddly giddy, a pink flush settling high on his cheekbones.
you gape at him, suddenly speechless. you don't remember satoru ever having the ability to make you speechless before.
you can't comprehend the stirring in your chest—uncomfortable and unfamiliar.
"you—" you scoff, reaching up to shove him away. "you're full of shit. doesn't change no matter how hot you are."
shoko has gone quiet, eyes darting between you and satoru with an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity. but satoru's gaze does not stray away from you, pearly whites on full display as he licks his lips. he doesn't say anything else, running his fingers through his hair.
"sure sure," satoru hums—pleased. "whatever you say."
you throw shoko an exasperated glare, and she shakes her head, though there is a shine of amusement in her eyes—like she knows something that you don't.
"i mean, they were right you know?" satoru ponders, leaning back against the railing. "why aren't we doing something fun today? we used to go out and buy a shit ton of chocolate back when—"
he stops, expression going sour, before disappearing all together. there is a clear absence, one that the three of you notice but try not to linger on.
("valentine's day?" suguru had asked years ago, glancing down at you with a smile. "you like it?"
"definitely not," you reply, cheeks warming as you fiddle with the sugared churros in your hand, unable to look at him. "what's so great about a day where couples spend a shit ton of money on each other to make the rest of us singles feel miserable?"
a muted chuckle, and when you look up suguru's eyes are shining with mirth. "i'm sure you wouldn't think that if you weren't single."
"i guess," you huff, glancing at the sidewalk. your face feels like it's on fire—but suguru has always had that effect on you. "not very likely to happen though."
the expression suguru throws you will linger in your mind until the day you die. "what do you mean?" he asks—incredulous, like you were speaking nonsense. he stops in his tracks, the busy streets bustling around him as you continue to walk.
you take a bite of your churro, glancing back at him with clear confusion. "huh? oh i just meant me dating someone is unlikely," you shrug, though suguru looks speechless, lips parted and eyes wide behind dark bangs.
"why on earth do you say that?" he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. he seems to visibly shake off his initial shock to continue walking, and you patiently wait for him to rejoin your side—he does.
"i don't know," you say, somewhat bashfully because you don't usually talk about these things with him. "do you really think there's room for things like that in our lives?"
"do you?" he counters, and you're too busy formulating your answer to notice that he's oddly interested, eyes continuously darting over your face.
"i mean, it'd be great if there was," you ponder, taking another quick bite. "it'd be nice to be able to settle down with someone even after all the crap we've gone through."
"right…" suguru seems to nod along with you, matching your steps even with his longer stride.
"but—" you stress. "considering that most of us are too traumatized or dead by that time, i don't have much faith."
you laugh at your own statement, but there isn't much amusement in it at all. putting it into words makes you truly realize how shitty your lives are even at such a young age.
your mind drifts to the cerulean eyed sorcerer who's currently off in a different city, being made to fight because he is god on earth in a seventeen year old body. it drifts to a brown haired girl who sits, secluded in a room as bodies are sent to her on a conveyor belt, her hands outstretched to feel blood and gore and horror day in and day out. then it drifts to the boy who is most like you, the one with the dark bangs who rationalizes this pain, this service you have devoted yourselves to with the need to do good for others—because there is no other explanation for why you have to go through this.
the same boy who takes your answer in critically, eyes heavy with an oddly somber sheen. he doesn't say anything, thinking hard, and you focus on eating your churro because you've never once found silence with suguru to be uncomfortable.
you are halfway finished when he breaks it.
"well…" suguru's voice is oddly high, a tick of nerves that doesn't usually infiltrate his calm tone. "if there was room for it, what would a good valentine's day look like for you?"
you laugh, loud and unfiltered, and suguru's skin flushes at the sound.
"i don't know!" your laughter dies down into hushed giggles. "i can't think of anything. besides this is stupid as hell!"
"indulge me," he says quietly, and when you turn to look up at him he's staring at you deeply—eyes hooded and smile gone. you suddenly feel oddly parched as heat crawls up your neck.
"um—" you swallow, the churro in your hand forgotten as you glance at the sidewalk again. "i-i'm not sure. i've really never thought that much about it."
"would you want flowers?" he asks. you suddenly become acutely aware that his voice has gone lower, throaty and deep in a way that sends chills up your spine.
you shake your head quietly, somehow nervous to look at him. "it makes me sad that they die off in a few days. better to keep them planted than cut them for a bouquet."
a quiet huff of laughter—fond and nostalgic. "that's on par for you. very in-character."
you lick your lips, tasting the sugar from the treat in your hand. "i guess…maybe i'd like chocolates?"
"chocolates?" suguru repeats, like he's surprised. you don't know why his reaction has you stumbling, but you shake your head quickly, appalled that you're even telling him this in the first place.
"i mean—it's not a big deal or anything! even just a small box of them would do! i don't really care anyway—"
"i would've guessed you'd like a plushie or something along those lines." he hums, a small smile stretching across his face. there's a dust of color blooming across his cheekbones, and you think he looks unfairly charming.
"that's good too!" you reply, too quickly, before catching yourself and ducking your head. "i mean…i don't know. plushies are really cute. i think they'd be a cute gift."
there's a beat of silence, and when you look up suguru is smiling at you like you've just put the stars in the sky for him. he hums to himself, eyes darting around the streets and looking much more at ease than he did a few minutes prior. you find yourself unable to look away.
"what would you want?" the words escape before you can stop them.
"me?" he asks, tilting his head in mild surprise.
"yeah. what would you want for valentine's day?"
suguru blanches, gaze darting over your facial features with shocking speed. it lingers on your eyes, before flickering downward, then shooting back up. you're trying to trace them but they're too fast, and he shuts them before you can process anything. he keeps his eyes closed as you curiously await his answer.
to this day you don't quite understand what he meant.
"anything i can get," he answers with a rueful smile, shaking his head at you fondly. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. "anything at all.")
a familiar voice tickles your ear amongst the silence even now, and you rub your palms together. you can feel satoru's gaze on you, trailing over your expression—searching, analyzing.
you let him—used to it.
"that's enough of that for now. plus don't the two of you have to go check on the kids today?" shoko asks, eyeing the two of you pointedly. her voice has a strain to it, one that you can only pick up because you've known her so long. but you're grateful for the change in subject as you glance at satoru, who checks his phone.
"ah shit. they should be back from school by now but we were supposed to pick up some groceries beforehand," he mutters under his breath before looking down at you. "you wanna head over there first and i'll go get some stuff?"
"sure," you reply, patting shoko's shoulder in farewell. satoru steps closer, digging into his pockets before dropping the apartment keys into your palm. he pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, eyes trailing over your face like he's searching for something, and yet you can't make out what.
a beat of silence.
"d-don't forget to get some of those cookies tsumiki said she liked last time." you drop the keys into your bag and shrug off the odd feeling of this conversation—something strange that you don't feel like looking into because you're scared of what you'll find out about yourself.
satoru's eyes go soft, a mixture of somber and affectionate, and he smiles easily. "you got it." he reaches out to ruffle your hair, licking his lips as he heads for the door. "see you later."
you watch him go, and think that you'd rather have him by your side. but you keep that to yourself—so used to sewing your mouth shut.
("which do you want?" you ask satoru, who peers at the shelves over your shoulder. his close proximity does nothing to you, but he seems oddly giddy when he glances at your side profile.
"hmm, the white chocolate," he answers, low and hushed, like it's meant only for you to hear. you can feel the energy radiating off of him—can feel it shake your very soul.
"okay," you reply, reaching up for the box, but satoru beats you to it. he stretches up, towering over you and you shoot him an playful glare. he had gotten a growth spurt over the holidays and wouldn't let you forget it.
"aw this is so sweet of you," he teases, excited and all too pleased. you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.
"you're the one who's been bugging us for valentine's day chocolate."
"like it wasn't a good idea," he counters with a grin. "even if we're all single we should still get chocolate."
you snort in amusement, before turning to call out across the aisle. "suguru which one should i get you?"
the dark haired male meets your gaze, and the warmth of it sends a tickle through your stomach. he shakes his head with a gentle smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "don't worry about it. you know i'm not big on sweets anyway."
you deflate—he smiles at you like he's happy you asked.
"you can give me his share," satoru interjects with a playful smirk, pressing his palm into your shoulder. you shake your head in exasperation.
"no way. i'm still going to get him something." your eyes dart across the shelves, before you reach up and pull down a box of unsweetened chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. "this should be good."
satoru eyes the box, and you glance at him. "suguru would like these right?"
"yeah," he shrugs, before crossing his arms. "as long as they aren't crazy sweet. he hates sweet stuff."
"okay good. then i'll get him these!" your smile stretches wide, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
"you're being awfully thoughtful today," satoru comments. you look at him quickly, quirking a brow.
"well i can't just get you one. you're not my only friend." you shoot back.
satoru grins. "guess that's true."
his arm takes its position around your shoulder as you head towards the counter.
"you were really particular about getting suguru something though. any special reason?" he pipes up, and you immediately go still, looking at him as you try to bite back an uncharacteristic surge of panic.
"of course not! i got something for everyone. i even got shoko the rum and raisin chocolates." you say quickly, fighting the urge to crumble under satoru's implications. "besides this was all your idea anyway!"
you dig into your wallet, pulling out exact change and smiling at the cashier, who puts all of your chocolates into a bag. you decide you'll gift them later, when you're in the comfort of the dorm.
"okay let's leave—" you pause when you turn around, breath catching.
because satoru is staring at you, an odd expression on his face. there's something behind his eyes—realization mixed with another emotion you can't quite place.
you're not sure if the expression excites you or scares you.)
you don't expect tsumiki to be so excited when you push open the door. she bounds out of her small bedroom, practically tripping over herself as she chants your name over excited giggles.
"hey kiddo, how was school?" you smile as she throws her arms around your waist. you pat her hair, making a mental note to take her for a haircut sometime soon.
"good! my friends gave me some chocolates today!" she's giddy as she says this, and you smile playfully.
"oh yeah? any boys?"
she immediately flusters at your quirked brow and teasing grin. "of course not!"
you laugh, patting her head again as you take a seat on the couch. "okay okay! where's your brother?"
you don't see the dark haired nine-year-old anywhere. normally he'd be doing his homework at the kitchen table—so much more diligent than you ever were at that age.
"he's in his room," tsumiki answers, and your eyes catch the sneaky bit of amusement in her face.
"doing what?" you ask curiously. she smothers a smile, shrugging.
"i'm not sure." she raises her voice to call out. "megumi! she's here!"
you can hear him grumbling down the hall, hear his little footsteps padding across the floor—affection swells within you.
you think back to the day satoru dragged you to meet him, and you internally remind yourself to thank him.
"hey gumi." you offer the kid a smile, though it falters when you notice the way his hands are hiding behind his back even as he mumbles a quiet greeting in return. "what's wrong?"
"i…" his voice catches, and you notice the heavy pink flush crawling up his neck and into his cheeks. "i just wanted to…"
he trails off again, and tsumiki nudges him discreetly. "just do it!" she whispers, not all that quietly. your eyes dart between them in confusion, and megumi tries to sink into his sweater's collar.
"megumi what's wrong? are you okay?" there's a note of concern you can't keep from your voice, and tsumiki gently pushes him closer to you. "did something happen?"
"no…" he mumbles, attempting to hide his face even more. "i just wanted to…give…"
you blink owlishly. "give…?"
megumi lets out an exasperated huff, brows pinching helplessly before thrusting his arms into your line of sight. "here!"
your lips part. in his little hands are a box of chocolates and a small stuffed bear.
"this is…" you trail off, taking them from his hands.
"he wanted to give you something for valentine's day! to show you how much he appreciates you!" tsumiki interjects, practically bouncing on her feet.
"no i didn't! it's just chocolates stop making it sound like such a big deal!" megumi immediately snaps, glaring at his sister. you can practically see his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you think you will never stop caring for this kid. there's a tickle of a distant memory—small fists clenched around a backpack and deep green eyes that stare up at you in childish apprehension.
those same green eyes now sneak glances at you, assessing your reaction, and you decide to put him out of his misery.
"this is so sweet megumi. thank you!" you smile at him gratefully, touched beyond recognition. your heart swells with affection once more.
megumi shoves his hands into his pockets, a stubborn pout on his face that makes the fat of his cheeks look that much more endearing. "whatever, it's not a big deal."
tsumiki shoots him a glare, before turning to you with a wide smile. "he says that but he was really excited to get you something!"
megumi gapes at her, eyes going wide in betrayal before they narrow. "shut up! besides it was gojo-san who gave me the idea!"
you blink, before smiling somewhat gingerly. though there is a strange sort of satisfaction in you when you hear those words—the mention of satoru's name. as detached as he tries to remain, you know all too well how much more there is to his character.
"i thought gojo-san would suggest flowers," tsumiki ponders, reaching out to squish the little bear before looking at you curiously. "aren't flowers a typical gift to get someone for valentine's day?"
you shrug, smiling carelessly. "i guess so. but i'm glad he didn't because i don't really like flowe—"
it hits you. echoes of a conversation that occurred many many winters ago. it washes over you, a refreshing tide that cools your skin and tickles your face.
of course, it made sense now that you thought about it. there were no secrets between satoru and suguru after all.
a chime cuts through the silence. you glance down at your phone to see a casual text from the snowy haired wonderboy who has been by your side since the beginning, and you can't help but smile.
i'll be home in a minute :P
a promise that has remained constant all these years.
so you type back.
hurry back. waiting for you.
you smile to yourself, heart thudding heavily against your ribcage. "hm."
tsumiki quirks a brow. "what?"
"nothing," you shake your head, wetting your lips as you reach down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles at you, stars in her eyes, and you think you'll remember that smile forever. "i was just thinking."
"about what?" megumi can't stop the curiosity from seeping into his voice as he peers at you. you grin, gently patting his head with the bear plushie and laughing when he swats you away.
"valentine's day," you answer, smiling at them as you stand up to head to the door. you already know who's about to knock. "i was just thinking that it's not too bad of a holiday."
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1K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 9 months
Text
so inviting, i almost jump in.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞
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"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"I…would like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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2K notes · View notes
00kittenz · 2 days
Text
── “ get to the car, we’re leaving ” ( lhs ) 🥃
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๑ In which Heeseung doesn’t take it lightly to you getting too close to one of the frat guys at a college party…
pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, angst ??, fluff, mentions of drinking & smoking (weed), jealousy, upset heeseung but also soft, argument, hee almost fucks things up (relationship wise) + hot makeup s.x, spanking, shaking, fingering, oral (f. rec), piv, creampie | words: 2.6k
decided to make another jock!hee fic bc the first one i made got rlly popular ! i wanted to showcase more of what goes on in their lives and relationship lol, enjoyyy <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
you were chosen as tonight’s designated driver, per usual. one of your roommates invited you to her senior’s after exams party and of course you had to bring your significant other along with you for protection. though you weren’t planning on doing anything crazy, there was no way in hell heeseung wasn’t getting high tonight; plus with all the heavy drinks jay managed to sneak into his dorm, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten drunk either.
“jake, it’s your go !” heeseung slurs a bit, sipping from his red solo cup. “shit, my bad, it’s my win anyway.” jake places his play in a set of three on the table, a sly smirk fixed on his features, flexing his cockiness.
“oh, fuck you..” heeseung spits, dramatically tossing his cards onto the table, earning a light chuckle from you.
“where are you going ?” you watched as his body elevated from his last position.
“out of drink.” he pouts, ruffling his hand through your hair. “you coming with ?” his hand lifts yours in a way to pull you upwards.
“no.. don’ feel like it,” you gave him a soft smile, tapping his waist. “but make it quick !”
with that his slim body conjured into the kitchen, where a small bar had been made. everyone else who’d been playing terrible plays of poker kingdom were either now making out, drinking, smoking, or just left in general. yet here you are, bored out of your mind and couldn’t drink at all, pulling out your phone as you waited patiently for your boyfriend to come back.
it’s been 20 minutes… what could possibly be taking so long? that’s all that ran over your mind before you actually got up to go find him yourself. you feel like you need a leash on that boy sometimes.. scanning each crowd, different colonies of people in groups, some even scattered. that’s when your eyes landed on a familiar figure— jay, but this time he seemed free.
๑ ๑ ๑
“i really do have a girlfriend,” heeseung said loud enough for the random girl to hear over the blaring music.
“oh, trust me i wouldn’t take a guy as handsome as you to not be taken,” she spoke, “but it doesn’t seem like she’s here right now.”
he’s now come to realize that it had been awhile since he were waiting on his drink, and started to scan the area looking for you. you were with jay, a kind but natural flirt, hell, owner of this party. you asked him to help you look around for your boyfriend, since you were growing concerned. and he did so, checking everywhere even all the rooms.. once heeseung’s eyes bounced to your figure, he was visibly upset at what he saw.
“yeah no, fuck outta here” he scoffs, the drink became completely irrelevant to him now and ditched the annoying girl. you could be fucking around with his close friend as of now and that thought alone sobered him up to a peak. why the hell are they going into a room, at a party..? he knew his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and he may be a little drunk/high but he’s not stupid. he wanted to come up with a logical reason but he couldn’t, that’s all he could think as he stepped closer and closer to the door you and jay hid behind.
you both had vanished from the hallway of doors before he’d even gotten there, opting to check the bar instead, only to find the perky girl who’d talked to him before. heeseung was so confused, but it didn’t stop him from rummaging from room to room. only making him angrier that you weren’t in any of them, and neither was jay. his hand dove into the back pocket of his jeans to ring your number. when you answered, his voice immediately aired through the speaker.
“y/n, where the hell are you ?! ” he drunkenly grumbles. you only laugh, you couldn’t help yourself. “hello ? .. ” you laughed again.
when you began to worry about heeseung being intoxicated and wandering around a party full of girls the panic settled in quickly. so, jay being the gentleman nobody thinks he is, tries to ease your mind with jokes to cheer you up as you kept looking around. that being while you were still on the phone, struggling to answer. “hello?..”
“y/n, can you hear me ??” he says for the millionth time already, voice laced with aggravated undertones.
“hello ? who is this ??” you hadn’t checked the caller id and you were far too occupied with finding heeseung. the music was far too loud and as you couldn’t hear any responses, you just hung up.
“what the actual fuck…” heeseung was more pissed off than confused, he couldn’t believe you’d just hang up on him like that. were his suspicions actually true ??
๑ ๑ ๑
“wanna try the balcony next ?” jay suggests as he’s slowly running out of options of where he could be, he knew he had to be in this house somewhere— heeseung would never just up and leave without you.
“sure!” you nod, following behind him as he lead you outside.
meanwhile, heeseung’s driving himself to a new level of insanity from not being able to find you. he thinks of anywhere else you could’ve run to and the last and only place he hadn’t checked yet— the balcony. he could only hope you were out there or he’s going to be worried sick. his fingers curl around the handle of the sliding door opening it to a surprised jay, and an even more shocked, you. both of your eyes darting to heeseung as soon as his figure leaned into frame.
“get the fuck up.” heeseung’s eyes glared at your being in utter annoyance.
“hee, i was looking for you!” you followed as he said, capturing his arms in yours only to your surprise he’d let go.
“jay, do you mind ?” the extra had gotten the message quickly and he just headed back inside to his packed habitat.
“where did you go baby, i couldn’t find you..” you say, looking into his eyes in honesty noticing the atmospheres gotten heavy.
“where did i go?? y/n, where did YOU go ?!” his figure shifts, staring at you in utter disgust. his mind was taking him to all kinds of places, places he never wanted to see, think, or hear of.
“to look for you? i said that already.” your brows furrowed.
“hmm, that's crazy cause i was doing the same thing.” he wanted to cut to the chase. “couldn’t find me so you just wandered off with jay ?? huh?”
“what ?? is that how low you think of me ? heeseung ??” your hands reach your hips. you can’t help but be offended. your boyfriend thought you were jacking off with his friend of all people. you had a reason to be.
“i mean it’s what it looked like !” he crosses his arms across his chest as he gritted through his teeth. “knew you shouldn’t have worn this outfit, it’s too revealing, bet you were the talk of the whole night..”
“wow,” you scoff, your body now facing another direction. you couldn’t believe him right now, first he accuses you of being with jay and now he’s acting insecure all because you wanted to wear a cute skirt. you don’t wear those quite often so it took a lot of courage for you to, but now you’re just second guessing everything.
“i’m talking to you, y/n. look at me.” you were flabbergasted, talk to him ?? what about how he openly admits you would cheat on him, or how he’s criticizing you for simply wearing something out of your comfort zone.
“well, i’m done talking.”
“fine, get to the car. we’re leaving.” you completely ignored him but had done as he said. he was fully sober by now, you were sure. he followed you not so long after storming out of the front door and once in the car, he slammed the door behind him.
๑ ๑ ๑
the drive from jay’s place was filled with a weird tension in the air, you noticed heeseung giving you glances from time to time checking up on you, but you weren’t to budge until he apologized to you. he thought you were for the team, when he knows you’re his, and only his. the car pauses once in the alignment of your driveway. to your dismay, you hear the doors locking while you’re still inside.
“let me out, hee.” you sigh heavily, gripping on the door handle.
“babe, can we talk first..” you couldn’t believe it, he wants to talk to you ?? really ?? the ‘friend fucker??’ how funny, you glare at him.
“what heeseung, i’m really tired.” you avert your gaze into the window.
“i’m sorry, i-” you cut him off. “you’re sorry ?! wow ?? when you should have been earlier ?? where was this apology earlier heeseung, when you actually hurt me.” your voice raised a notch.
“you know it was the heat of the moment, what’d you want me to think?? ‘oh she’s definitely not with the flirtiest guy on campus, yeah he totally doesn’t wanna fuck my hot girlfriend’.” he mocked a slight pitch change in his voice.
your mouth gaped. “are you really sorry or do you just wanna sleep next to me ??” you asked, you knew he couldn’t sleep alone, he needed you by his side.
“how about both. you know i mean it y/n. you’re just upset.” he plays with the steering wheel.
“dont tell me what i am, now let me out.” you grimace.
he clearly got upset by this, “you aren’t even trying to ease up the problem here ! and then later on you know you’re gonna pin everything on me. knowing damn well i tried fixing things.” he wavered his hands in the air as he spoke, he was kinda right yet you just didn’t like the way he was going about it. yes, he is trying to apologize, but you couldn’t help but still be mad.
“i get that, thanks for your apology.. but i don’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” your eyes fixate on his own. you felt the air tighten, you always did. there was genuine remorse in his eyes, you felt it.
hell, your man had the prettiest face you’d ever seen. and hell, he looked so sexy when he’s mad, and especially now, when he’s sorry. you simply wanted to tear him apart. his hand reaches yours and as he got the chance he wanted to show you how sorry he truly was. the softness of his lips caressed yours. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet right now. how couldn’t you be…
๑ ๑ ๑
“mm.. hee ..” you whined as the weight of his lips on yours lightened.
“i don’ wanna apologize to you in here,” he finally unlocked the doors. “get your pretty ass upstairs.”
his eyes traced your body, longing towards the way your pretty thighs look.. then gazing up at your ass as you complied, leaving your skirt riding up it’s soft exterior. an immediate tent grew in his pants. the one thing he loved most about you body wise, had to be your ass. it molded into his hands just perfectly. and it replied to any friction he applied to it on command. he loved how red and bruised it got once his hands launched across it’s surface. and how he’d sometimes be able to see his own handprints. you were the sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.
๑ ๑ ๑
“nggh, hee.. yes, please..” you drool out at the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he pounded against you. “fuck me baby, fuck me!” you yelp when you feel his nails gripping into your waist.
“you want it baby, huh, you want it so deep in you don’t you, huh ???” his lips caressed your neck as he grabs onto your leg to inch himself more into you.
“you’re close? mhm, you like how i fuck you sloppy? such a dirty slut for me ..” he chuckled as he felt you clench around his length at his dirty words. “open your mouth. when i speak to you” his fingers lazily run circles around your clit.
you couldn’t mutter a single word, he’d fucked you completely dumb, your orgasm swelled up so deep inside you. you felt like you could puke but you didn’t want it to stop. you never wanted it to end.
“hah.. shit baby, ‘m gonna cum..” your nails grip his forearms, your arms pushing your boobs together caging them in.
he groaned at the beautiful sight below him, leaning down onto your nakedness caressing one of your nipples with his tongue. your stomach tingled, by the time you knew it your orgasm peaked, leaving his cock all messy of your juices. you whined as he pulls out, looking down at your folds and spreading them before grazing his mouth over your heat, flicking his tongue on your already overly sensitive bud. you could cry right in this moment from just how heavenly your boyfriend was making you feel. you held onto him for dear life as he buried his face between your plush thighs, the lewd sounds filling the room as he drank you.
“turn over.” he demands once coming back up for air again, you obey straight away, laying onto your stomach, letting out heavy breaths as your body ached.
heeseung lifted your hips, putting you on all fours.
“can you take some more for me baby? ‘m close..” he puckers kisses all over your ass and waist, heeseung hadn’t came yet. he kinda has this weird game in his head where he tries to see how long he can last until he physically just can’t take it anymore. it’s oddly satisfying in the end because not only does he cum so much more but he gets to fuck you even longer, it’s a win win in his book !
“mhm.. more baby !” you respond quickly, you were greedy as fuck for his cock and he loved that you were just as horny as him.
with that, he were thrusting like no tomorrow into your tight cunt. a loud slap to your ass comes with full force, barely giving you any time to react. your body jerks forward, jaw locked in place as you grab onto the sheets to keep you stable. your head was empty, no thoughts other than how good heeseung was fucking you like his life depends on it.
“pussy made just for me, you feel so good baby. you love milking my cock, don’t you?” his moaning reached another level of loud. it was so sexy..
“all yours baby, please come in me ! fill me up hee !!” he pulled out before thrashing back in, noticing the white ring around his dick changing sizes everytime his length swipes through your core.
“that’s right, yeah baby, where do you want it ??” his pace quickens, you can barely catch your breath. you felt your high returning, his high approaching quicker as you clench around him, once more.
“inside ! oh please inside me !!” you turn your head towards him giving him a pleading look, a look that stroked his ego a little too much. you felt his jizz filling you up and leaking from your open as he slid himself from you.
“baby!.. i’m not done..” you pouted.
“i know, i know. don’t worry princess.” you felt two of his digits thrusting into you, biting your lip as he made your back arch in surprise.
your hand grips the sheets of the bed even tighter as the other played over your thirsty clit. and with just a curl, you bursted. whines filling the room, your body collapsing and a shaky sigh leaving your body as you rub your legs together to stop the throb, your lover felt accomplished with the result.
“shaking orgasm.” he chuckled, his fingers traced lines along the slope of your waist and his lips finding place on yours.
what an apology. you felt lush. (つω`。)
THNX FOR 450+ FOLLOWERS YA’LL WTF, it’s only been like 2 weeks on this acc :’)) i appreciate all of u for reading my content hehe ♡︎
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simpxxstan · 1 month
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HELLOOO!!! CONGRATS FOR THE 550 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR I HOPE U GET MORE FOLLOWERS BC UR WRITTING?? DELICIOUS 💗💗
But I would like to request seungcheol + dilfism ?? Like have u SEEN that man??
Thank you!! Have a good day!
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MAN <333 thank you for sending this in! LOVED writing dilf cheol. i swear this man and his sexiness of 30s will be the death of me. inspired completely by his new glasses look at caratland 2024.
this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.
genre: smut, enemies to lovers, age gap, dilf!seungcheol, lawyer au.
word count: 13k words.
warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ nsfw content. 13 YEAR AGE GAP, mention of suicide, single dad!seungcheol, a ton of legal terms (not vouching to be accurate because i am neither a lawyer nor a law student nor is my research perfect), seungcheol is a bit selfish and toxic (but there's a redemption arc), ANGSTY angst, but A LOT OF FLUFF TO COMPENSATE. smut warnings: protected sex, oral receiving (f and m), mild dirty talk, implicit size kink, implicit spit kink.
"it's my first case!" you whine in surrender, slumping on the shoulder of your friend, as you both re-read the case file in front of you for the n-th time this morning. yoona pats your head, but she knows even she can say nothing to console you. it must be either sheer bad luck or some unknown person's vengeance, that you're against choi seungcheol in the very first case of your life.
y/l/n y/n: the lawyer of the plaintiff, hwang seola.
choi seungcheol: the lawyer of the defendant, KNT enterprises pvt. ltd.
nothing can save you from losing your first case in the worst way possible. not even the stellar letters of recommendation from your professors. not even your exceptional performance in the national lawyers examination process. not even your diligence during your interning years that's earned you the title of golden rookie. everyone expects you to make it big, including yourself- but that's clearly not going to happen if you lose the very first actual case you have to face in your life.
"at least no one will mock you for losing," yoona says in a meek voice. you scoff indignantly, "as if that's any comfort. still doesn't change the fact that i'm going to start off my career on the worst foot possible. why does my luck have to be so shitty?"
"hey, think about the positives. imagine how much of a learning experience it'll be. i know best how much you consider seungcheol as your idol."
you sigh. five years ago, when seungcheol had blown up across the country because of his historic debut in the court of corporate law, winning case after case and setting precedents that were welcomed with open arms, you'd looked up to him. five years ago, he'd walked into your college for an invited seminar during your first semester and blown your mind away. five years ago, you would cry in joy at the opportunity to even spend a minute in the same courtroom as seungcheol and see him in action. five years ago, he'd been the ideal man of your dreams- perfect in every damn way possible.
the only issue with that is that he's still the ideal man in your eyes. even if losing the case against him won't make your nervous, just being in close quarters with him for long hours will make you infinitely nervous.
"maybe i should recommend boss to let you take up the ca-" you tease yoona, and she squeals, whining protests instantly. "no thank you!" you laugh, hoping to lighten the tension of the moment. but the relief is only temporary, and the weight of the upcoming case lingers in your mind for hours later.
_
the first trial of the case is a week later. before that, you decide to change your mindset to a better thought process- even if you simply assume that you're going to lose this case, you're still going to give in your 100% so that you can step away with no regrets and only more knowledge gained. the first step to that, of course, is speak to your client personally, without the intermediation of the firm you work at.
mrs hwang turns out to be a woman just a few years older than you. the primary reason why she's suing the company her husband used to work at is because her husband had been driven to suicide by the constant pressure in his workplace to keep some illegal activities and fraud under the covers, which had not only harmed his mental health and morals but also affected the way his superiors judged his work performance. she may be young, but she's lost her husband merely three years after their marriage, and just one look at her face makes your heart ache in sympathy.
this isn't the first time you've seen such a case. during your years of study, you've studied plenty of cases involving companies ill-treating their workers and leading them to take up drastic steps in desperation. not only does this case come under a serious mistreatment of employees under labour laws, but also violates laws governing corporations which demand them to steer off illegal activities and maintain integrity. it's a very interesting case, and you're highly intrigued and instantly drawn into the case. there are several nuances that you know you may miss out by a hair's breadth if you're not careful. but you cannot take chances. if you have to even put up a fair fight against choi seungcheol, you're going to have to leave no stone unturned.
at the end of your discussions with mrs hwang, you're fully convinced that the company is indeed at fault here. however, you're going to have to prove it in court with the meagre evidence you have- which is low anyway, considering how big companies use their financial and social capital to turn such cases remarkably in their favour. the primary example of that being them getting seungcheol, the country's top corporate lawyer, to represent them, while mrs hwang can only hire you, a rookie lawyer at a lesser reputed firm.
however, as you walk into the courtroom, you convince yourself to not think about how the odds are against your favour from the first moment itself, to calm your nerves. you're here to debut with a bang, and you will fake it till you make it.
_
it doesn't work.
it doesn't work because the moment you enter the courtroom, you see choi seungcheol sitting next to the defendant's CEO on the other side of the room, dressed in the most immaculate suit, his glasses perched on his nose as he inspects the documents you've submitted in court prior to the trial as preliminary evidence. when you walk towards the bench you're going to sit at, he looks up at you.
it's a careful, measured glance. a glance of confidence, a glance of self-awareness. he knows he's going to win. and yet, he smiles at you indulgently.
moments later, he meets you halfway across the room.
"good morning. i'm seungcheol," he extends his hand for a shake, his nose upturned as he looks down at you with an aura that nearly blows you away. you wish that you hadn't worn heels tonight- because if he keeps looking at you like that, your knees are going to give up.
"of course, who wouldn't know you?" you steady your voice mustering a smile.
seungcheol's smile does not change. "it's nice to meet the golden rookie finally."
his words send shivers down your spine. there's just something about meeting your idol from so up-close that you want to submit instantly to his infinitely higher knowledge and experience to you. there's also something particular to him that's affecting your mind and body- because if seungcheol at thirty-one was handsome, he's absolutely godly at thirty-six. he's aged like fine wine- the rimless glasses sitting firmly on his nose, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and a few graying hairs around his sideburns.
you don't get a chance to respond as the judge enters the court and you're pulled away to your bench, sitting next to a very nervous-looking mrs hwang. you forcefully drag your eyes away from seungcheol, who still has that tiny smile on his face as he talks to his client, and focus on your client, giving her much-needed confidence boosts (needed both by her and by you).
_
as anticipated, the first trial does not go well. it's just your fucking luck that the judge knows seungcheol already- but then, it was wrong of you to not consider that already, knowing how famous he is. on top of it all, mrs hwang breaks down in the middle of seungcheol's questioning, shaken completely by his straightforward questions and uncaring gaze, and the court gets adjourned, leaving you stranded without any proper progress against seungcheol's stronger case. the next trial is scheduled for a week later. you wish you could think that your work has been cut out for you, but it's far from that.
the second trial comes quickly- but it doesn't let you progress much further. seungcheol looks even more nonchalant on the second trial- dressed in another suit, he's less fierce today during his questioning. you don't notice it, because you're too flustered with your own work, but his eyes stray towards you more often. his eyes glaze over with something soft every time you make eye contact, and you immediately look away, like you've been caught in the act. but seungcheol doesn't let it slip- he keeps up his passive aggression when he's shaking hands with you before exiting the courtroom.
"tough luck, rookie. focus between the lines more."
his words make you even more nervous than before, but you put on a brave face for seola's sake. this motivates you to change your gameplan, and you decide to stop focusing on existing evidence, which is scarce, and use more verbal reports of other employees who have willingly stepped up to speak the truth after the suicide of their friend and colleague. by the time you're just three days before the third trial date, you have a solid set of verbal witnesses who will provide evidence on your side, but every time you feel slightly more confident than earlier, seungcheol's voice rings in your ears and you lose all hope.
on the morning of the fourth day, you receive an email from your boss.
y/n, please attend a lunch meeting on my behalf with some of our older clients (whose list i have attached below) today.
you jump to the opportunity- being provided a chance to interact with the old clients of the firm is a lucrative opportunity to impress those who've stayed with the firm from the beginning (and naturally, have graduated into stakeholders at the firm).
so it's safe to say you're in for a rude shock when you reach the lunch spot at a five-star restaurant along the banks of the han river, and find none of your clients but instead you find seungcheol waiting for you.
_
"close your mouth and stop drooling," jeonghan's voice somehow appears in his mind when he sees you enter the restaurant. "you make it obvious how hot you find women in suits."
but seungcheol cannot take his eyes off you. hasn't been able to for the last two times he's seen you. even if the courtroom is no place for indecency, he's had plenty of indecent thoughts whenever he's seen you, dressed in your suits and blazers, your curves prominent and your hair tied up in a practical ponytail. he should not think like this about you- he knows it. you both are set up at natural odds because of the case- but somehow, that makes him more interested in you. and seungcheol would not have it any other way. he looks forward to each trial of an otherwise boring case just to see you- the passion on your face whenever you're arguing your case, the way your mouth opens in shock whenever seungcheol casually dismisses a piece of information you've clearly worked hard on, the way you stare in exasperation at the witnesses when they speak against your stance, the hunger in your eyes whenever you're questioning his client, and the fire in you that burns you to work harder before each trial. seungcheol hasn't seen a lawyer as passionate as you in many years- most would have given up even before starting just due to his formidable reputation, but you're not even intimidated by his on-brand dead stare that works on everyone.
"i was told i'm here to meet clients of my firm. i didn't know you hired our firm for your personal needs," you cock an eyebrow as you stand in front of him, and seungcheol smirks. that attitude does nothing to filter his thoughts.
"would you have come if i'd invited you personally?"
you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "have a seat, please. let's enjoy lunch."
you do so immediately. submissive. "but i still don't understand why i'm here." bratty.
he places a finger on his lips as the food he's pre-ordered arrives. the smell of the delicious food breaks your frigid attitude, it obviously helps that seungcheol's ordered your self-proclaimed favourite dish on your public instagram account. "i'm sure you must be hungry." seungcheol digs in himself, his eyes on yours as he carefully licks the spoon clean. your eyes flicker to his lips instantly before you're staring back into his eyes, defiance laced in your gaze. you pick up the spoon and start eating as well. seungcheol smiles.
i'm a dad to two daughters. i know how to tame brats.
after a few minutes, he finally speaks. "do you know the first step to winning a battle, rookie?"
you look up and tilt your head slightly in question.
"knowing your opponent."
"i already know you."
"that's what you think. that's why you're not going to win."
your eyes flash with anger. "are you just going to rub that into my face? is that why i'm here?"
"so what? you don't want to win? isn't the most loved story of human history the tale of the underdog?"
"frankly, my opponent isn't even you. it's your client, who isn't even here. so i don't understand the point of this meeting."
"so much can be learnt merely through observation, rookie. you can't know someone by looking at their annual reports and how much money they pay their employees."
"i don't need to know anything more than that! unlike you, i don't wish to meddle in people's personal lives to win cases. i don't need your brain games."
seungcheol chuckles. "the courtroom is nothing but brain games, rookie. think how far facts can take you, and then think how much further imagination can take you."
you gasp, pinching your nose. "i'm sorry, what? imagination? i'll win on evidence and evidence only. i used to admire you as an icon of law. but now, when i see you defend an obvious criminal with such blatant stubbornness, i'm having second thoughts."
"obvious criminal? are you telling me you've obtained the evidence you need to prove my client guilty in court?"
"and what if i do?"
seungcheol sits back, squaring his shoulders to his full stature. "you shouldn't tell me about it then, rookie."
"when you'd walked into my law school five years ago for a seminar, this wasn't the choi seungcheol i'd grown to love as an icon."
fuck. five years ago? just how young were you?
"i'd advise you not to get emotional about the case. the courtroom is no place for admiration or lov- or any other emotions."
"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"
"why should i? i'm surviving just fine, aren't i?"
by this point, seungcheol can see the way your nails dig into your own palms in frustration. it's so amusing, how emotionally you're dealing with this. in a world of black and white, seeing you behave gray in every scenario makes seungcheol think he's lived thirty-six years of his life incorrectly.
finally when you cannot come up with any rebuttal, you stand up, dragging your chair on purpose to make noise. "there's absolutely nothing more for me to talk to you about. i hope you've learnt about me today, choi seungcheol. i've certainly learnt a lot too." and you walk away before he has the opportunity to say anything.
_
lunch with seungcheol leaves you shaken and stuttering. even as you open the door of the cab outside and ask the driver to take you to the office without a second thought, you spend the entire journey lost in your own thoughts. every little moment of the meeting lingers in your mind, unsettling your confidence. from the way he calls you rookie to his quiet arrogance and confidence, everything about him is so frustrating and yet... he draws you in. your perception about him has definitely changed after today, but even with the added understanding of just how selfish choi seungcheol can be, you can't ignore the sheer attraction you feel towards him.
it stays on your mind through the next three days. and on the morning of the third trial, you're stuck with two different thoughts plaguing your mind.
the first: a genuine concern about how the third trial is going to pan out. it's likely to be your last chance to even bring the judge's opinion to your side, because if you can't present good enough evidence today, there's no way to sway the jury to your side.
the second: choi seungcheol is a man who annoys you but you also have this innate craving to impress him. your respect for him hasn't changed, but your conversation with him has revealed to you just how cutthroat the world of law really is. and his suave attitude, the confidence with which he's so sure he's going to win, and his infinitely superior experience to you makes some part of you so desperate to seek his attention and impress him. show him that you can do well too. show him that you're not going to make beginner's mistakes. show him that you're more than a mere rookie.
but when you walk into the courtroom, seola next to you, your sunglasses perched on your head, you stare at the empty bench behind you. it was supposed to be full with the four witnesses you'd invited today and were relying on to sail through the the third trial. frantically, you ask your colleague who's assisting you in the trial, "where are the witnesses? are they running late? can you ple-"
"they're not going to come today, y/n."
seungcheol's icy voice cuts through the chaos and reaches you sharply. you spin around to find him dressed immaculately in a midnight blue turtleneck that shows off the stubble growing down his jaw.
"sorry, what?"
"you heard me the first time. none of them are going to come today."
"and how do you know?"
seungcheol smirks as he shrugs and takes a step closer towards you. "i have my ways, rookie."
you're fuming at this point, but you really can't speak your mind because seola breaks down in tears right next to you and you can't help but shift away your focus from seungcheol's dangerous eyes and take care of her.
it's honestly a miracle that after the complete sweep that seungcheol presents in the third trial, with no new evidence nor substantial evidence from your end, you still get another chance at a fourth trial, scheduled two weeks from now, in a pitiful announcement from the judge, imploring you to use this final chance to collect as much as evidence as you can.
_
when the trial ends, you ask seola to go home, and you lock yourself up in a bathroom stall in the court building, trying to come to terms with everything that's come to pass today. it's been an overwhelming morning and you're still shaken badly by it all. every moment you spend in this world with seungcheol, he seems to make it his personal mission to show you that there's no place for softness or emotions in this cut-throat world.
when you exit the washroom, you find seungcheol standing outside, an unlit cigarette between his lips.
"did you bribe them?"
he turns to look at you, his eyes clearly wide in surprise. "what are you saying?"
you take a step closer to him, your entire body shaking with fury. "did you bribe the fucking witnesses?"
"we're in public, woman, control your tongue."
"i'm not ashamed of anything i'm saying though, are you?"
seungcheol's lips twist in distaste and he drags you away from the public place to a quieter spot secluded near the parking lot. "i understand you're frustrated because of that no-show today, but you're speaking nonsense-"
"i'm speaking perfect sense, seungcheol! only you knew that i was going to bring in witnesses today."
"only me?"
"except two people at my firm, one of who is my best friend, and the other is a colleague who's assisting me in the case."
"who knows? maybe your friend's the snitch-"
you step closer to him, seething in anger. "don't you fucking make false allegations, choi seungcheol!"
"you're the one making false allegations here, really."
"you'll have to admit it, seungcheol. someday. if all your fame and reputation has been through such cheap tricks and under-the-table dirty business, you'll have to pay for it-"
"or what?" seungcheol puts back the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with a lighter. he takes in a big puff, and exhales right into your face. "or what, y/n? maybe you should take my advice instead. and stop making rookie mistakes."
as he walks away from you, you shout behind him, "i'm going to expose you, seungcheol!"
"empty threats, la la la." his voice trails back, sending shivers down your spine, as you're left alone in the dark parking lot, wallowing in your own pathetic helplessness.
_
your search for further evidence has led you to a complete dead-end. the most important thing that you need, the one that will clinch the case for you absolutely, is any - even one- document directly coming from KNT to seola's husband. unfortunately, you've gone through his emails and fax multiple times, but found nothing. nothing on his laptop, no hard drives, no soft drives, no external devices, nothing on his mobile phone or other such devices either. today you're searching all his belongings again and again, but it's still the dead-end. you realise that there's no point looking for more witnesses because seungcheol's just going to drive them away by whatever tricks he's using. and you're confident that seungcheol's thinking a step ahead of you- so any new evidence sources that you might come up with now might have already been dismissed by seungcheol through some back-up plan of his.
"seola, i need you to think once more, please. did he use any other device apart from the one at his office and the one at home? any laptop or any other mobile phone?"
"no... i can't remember anything else, really. we couldn't afford anything more too..."
you grimace. "i hope you don't get offended, but i'm sure he received quite a bit of money from whatever services he was providing KNT. enough to motivate him to keep quiet and hold on for so long. otherwise an honest man like him wouldn't want to get into this mess, would he?"
seola doesn't reply immediately, tears silently dropping down his cheeks.
you sigh and place a hand on her shoulders, rubbing softly as she breaks down into more tears. in the last few weeks, you've become surprisingly quite close. you've comforted her through her worst moments, feeling compassionate both as a woman and as a lawyer. and she, in turn, has helped you without any qualms, in not just the case but also lent a patient ear to you whenever you've wanted to rant, made ramen for you whenever you've worked till late, and let you stay over at her place whenever the rain outside's become too torrential for you to take the bus back home.
after a few long moments, seola is finally able to gain back her composure. "y/n.... he did mention something about an outstation office... towards the outskirts of the city. he used to go there twice a month. he told me it was for sending out packages to the other branches of the company... but maybe you could see there once?" your eyes light up with excitement as you hear seola's words. is this finally the breakthrough you'd been looking for through high and low? is this finally going to be your trump card to win the case? your rational side tells you to not become overjoyed immediately, but something in you is desperate to see that cockiness wiped off seungcheol's face, and bring him down to earth from whatever higher place his arrogance has placed himself at.
"seola, can you give me any tentative location for it? i'm going to go check it now."
"now? but the forecast is showing there's going to be thunderstorms tonight! there's so much thunder grumbling out there-"
"it doesn't matter, seola. i can't afford to lose any more time."
_
seungcheol's been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now, and the windshield wiper is absolutely useless in preventing the rain from cascading on his front window. the rain is relentless- just like the thoughts tormenting his heart. the reason he's returning home so late is because there had been a dinner party at the workplace cafeteria, hosted by his colleagues and closest friends, jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo and minghao. they're all lawyers with their own reputations, and the only friends they all have now. the point of the dinner? celebrating seungcheol's (upcoming) win in the KNT vs mrs hwang case. (and also to get seungcheol's mind off y/n, who's distracted him from his work all week, ever since their encounter at the parking lot of the courthouse.)
it'd been a mistake to stay out for so long. a sheer lapse of judgement, and seungcheol has not choice but to curse at himself right now. his daughters have called him already, their voices sleepy as they stay up for their father to return home to eat ice cream with them, before they fall into bed.
"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"
y/n's words ring in his mind.
as the rain pours down cruelly, seungcheol's heart lets out silent cries.
he's a failure.
he's failed his family. thirteen years ago, when his parents had cast him out of their house after he'd failed to get a job at a good law firm.
that attitude's gonna get you nowhere, kid! stop running your mouth and focus on your work!
he's failed his first love. nine years ago, four years before he'd finally made his mark in the country's law scene, his wife had divorced him and left their children with him, because he'd not been able to earn enough for her.
stop being such a social activist, seungcheol! the world isn't soft like you. stop being so stuck up and emotional!
and now he's failing his daughters. day after day, they'd stay up late, waiting to spend some quality time with their father. night after night, they'd end up sleeping alone because seungcheol's insomnia didn't let him sleep with them. month after month, he'd promise to take them to their long-due vacation, but he was always too busy to take leave for two weeks at once. year after year, they'd wait for him to come to sports' day but seungcheol could never make it.
appa, if you can't take us to jeju... can we go for the school trip this year to jeju? all our friends are going to go for it...
all these painful thoughts triggered simply by one person- you. you're an unprecedented variable in his life, someone he couldn't even imagine to be a part of his life even a month ago. and yet, you've made him feel so many emotions, that had become dormant for years, in such a short span of time.
he's disappointing you too.
he doesn't know why it hurts what you think of him. seungcheol had thought that at thirty-six, he's finally ascended from these petty thoughts. but somehow your judgemental gaze, your innocent words and your fresh perspectives have shaken him to the core.
or perhaps he does know why, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.
you remind him of himself.
but you're far better than he was. he'd been a coward, a loser, too quick to give up, and too hasty to drown in his own pity party. you're a fighter, a challenger, not accepting the cruelties of status quo, and too passionate to give up your sense of justice just to fit in with the cut-throat dirty reality.
you're 10 times the lawyer than he could ever be, and something about that makes him so inexplicably drawn to you.
because you're the person he's always wanted to idolised.
no wonder that when you'd told him that you'd looked up to him as an idol, he'd laughed at himself.
the traffic jam disperses slowly, and seungcheol breaks out of his daze. the clock shows 10.30 pm, and the rain shows no sign of stopping. thankfully, the traffic is now moving smoothly.
_
after almost half an hour of standing at the bus stop, waiting for something to pass by, there's finally a car with a very bright beam slowing down in front of you. it's a private car, but you hope it can give you a l-
"what are you doing here?!" the words escape your mouth as soon as you notice who's in the driver as the car window rolls down.
"get in, rookie."
you consider hesitating, but seungcheol's car looks warm... and safe. so you do get in, hating how there's water everywhere you're touching, spoiling the clearly expensive leather of the seats. but seungcheol doesn't say anything even as you shuffle in and finally settle on the passenger seat.
he thankfully doesn't ask you anything as he lets you take a breath and get warm enough. so about five minutes pass before he asks you, "what were you thinking, standing out there in this rain?" his voice is low, almost cracked, but laced with serious concern. you notice that he's still dressed in his typical suits. is he returning from work so late?
"i had work here," you say carefully avoiding the connection about the case.
"so late at night?"
"it was important."
"that it couldn't wait till the morning?"
"no."
you're aware by the way his jaw is clenched that he's getting annoyed by your short answers. but you have no option except to be as vague as possible- his mind works too fast for you.
"where's your home?"
you tell him the locality, and he sighs. "that's on the opposite side of town."
"i know, just... maybe you can drop me at a more crowded bus stop? the one where i was waiting was a bit remote, but a more crowded one will definitely have more frequent buses-"
"you're out of your mind."
"huh?"
"just because you're irresponsible doesn't mean i will be too. i cannot and will not leave you in the middle of the road in this rain so late at night."
"seungcheol, i don't want to barge-"
"you're not barging into anything. you'll come home with me, change into drier clothes and sleep in for the night so that you don't fall sick."
"y-your home?"
"yes. do you have a better idea?"
you gulp, his gaze stern. you don't have a better idea, in fact getting to change into warm clothes and get into someone's house sounds divine right now. the only problem is that it's.... seungcheol's home. if you can't handle him in his everyday suits, you wonder what thoughts seungcheol in his natural abode will spark in you.
"i'll always be grateful to you."
seungcheol nods, and the rest of the journey is silent.
_
seungcheol doesn't know yet if it's a good or a bad idea. he did it as an impulse- perhaps some part of him hopes he's still redeemable in your eyes, so he wants to do the right thing for once. but he won't know if it's the right think for everyone until he reaches home.
when he parks the car and takes you up to his flat, he can hear the television blaring harry potter from outside the flat, and he can see the way your eyebrows furrow at the sound. so he slowly unlocks the door, to reveal his two daughters sitting on the couch, undoubtedly watching their favourite harry potter movies again, wearing identical pyjamas specially designed for the identical twins.
he can hear you gasp as you step into the house, and the girls come into your view.
there's an awkward moment of silence and staring, before sol comes running to him and wraps herself around his waist. "appa! we're right at the last scene of prisoner of azkaban, your favourite part!"
seungcheol almost tears up. how can they welcome him so warmly every night even though he's come home so late?
he clears his throat. "sounds like you've been having fun, girls. but first, say hello to y/n unnie-"
"imo," you whisper next to him, your figure shrunk with the cold.
"no unnie," he whispers back. "this is choi sol, our maknae, and that's choi byul, my eldest." the girls wave and shyly say hello, their dimpled smiles flashing politely as they bow. you bow back, "hi sol and byul! sorry you're meeting unnie in this state~"
"are you also a lawyer?"
"did you get caught in the rain?"
"do you work with appa in his office?"
"do you want fresh clothes?"
you giggle at the contrasting questions from the two girls, their starkly different personalities evident. "yes, yes, no, and yes please, if you could be so kind," you smile back, your dainty lips curving into a pretty bow that takes his breath away. sollie shifts from where she'd been wrapped around seungcheol to take your hand gently. "do you think my clothes will fit you? i think byul's clothes will. she has a very warm nightdress..." and she drags you away to her room, welcoming you in without even a single moment's hesitation. byul is more reserved in her welcome, but still warm. she follows the two of you shortly, and seungcheol is left at his doorstep alone, but filled with such a flurry of emotions in his heart that leaves his soul warmed unlike he's felt in years.
about twenty minutes later, he comes out of his bathroom after a refreshing warm shower, his hair soft after the shampoo. he can hear voices from the kitchen, loud-pitched voices of his daughters and the softer, lower voice that he recognises as you.
"unnie, do you want to have ramen?" byul's voice rings out. "we were going to have ice cream but you might feel too cold for that." sol adds, "did you eat dinner, unnie? didn't appa eat dinner with you?" "no, w- we- he picked me on the way when he saw me stranded in the rain. we didn't have dinner... together."
seungcheol's heart breaks and heals a little at the same time. he's taken the right step for now... but seeing his little girls like this have generated images and thoughts in his mind that he had shelved away forever.
the idea of a family.
the idea of giving them a new mother figure.
as he walks towards the kitchen, he can see the way sol and byul cling to you although they've met you barely half an hour ago. perhaps it's because they don't have any cousins and you feel like a sister? perhaps it's because they like bossing over adults, especially since they boss over him so much? perhaps it's because they've already been charmed by your magnetic appeal- your softness and your innocence, mingled with an intelligence that lets you befriend everyone.
"are y'all annoying y/n already?" byul immediately faux pouts, and he can see your eyes light up. "seungcheol, she looks exactly like you," your voice whispers with the revelation. "yes, she's my daughter. kinda expected, don't you think?" he laughs. it's sarcastic of course, because sol and byul actually resemble him more than any other father-daughter pair he's seen in his life. it's almost like they haven't gotten any of their mother's genes. and seungcheol doesn't really regret it. it's been nine years, he's gotten over that pain. his only regret is to not be able to provide a second parent to his children, who'd grown up in spite of being cut off completely by their mother. and his busy life has left him with no space to date or even think of marriage...
except right now.
right now, when he sees you wearing byul's nightdress that barely reaches your knees, cooking ramen with sol sitting on the kitchen counter next to you, chatting away about harry potter, and byul carefully carving out ice cream into bowls for the four of them, seungcheol thinks maybe it's time.
maybe he's found the one.
and maybe, he's already fallen beyond scope to return.
_
you didn't get much chance to talk to seungcheol last night, but when you wake up on the guest bed the next morning, you can see him as soon as you open the door. he's sitting in the balcony, sipping a cup of tea, reading a newspaper, his glasses sitting prettily on his nose.
"morning," your voice is still raspy in spite of your sleep being perfectly fulfilling.
he turns to look at you, his gaze uncharacteristically soft, much different from how he sees you at court.
"hi. tea?"
you nod, and wobble over to sit next to him. the tea clears your throat a lot, and you can finally open your eyes wide enough to see the glorious view from his balcony. so you soak in the nature for some time, while seungcheol buries his nose into the newspaper again.
"i didn't know you were a father."
seungcheol hums. "did you like them? my girls? they liked you a lot."
"can't help but not like them. they balance each other so perfectly- as if they're your twin personas."
"that's deep."
"but it's true."
seungcheol chuckles and goes back to his newspaper. the morning air hits your face and you feel so much more alive than you'd normally do on a thursday morning. "when do you have to get to work?" he asks you.
"i still have about an hour and half left."
"will you go home and then-"
"yeah. the office is really close to my place, like a minute's walk. so i'll leave soon, don't worry-"
"you'll stay for breakfast." seungcheol says firmly. "the girls will want to see you before you leave."
and you can't turn that down. so you simply nod in agreement, carefully taking a look at the man sitting across you. seungcheol at home is so unimaginably different from seungcheol at court. if he's fire in the courtroom, then he's water at home. he's cold and practical in the real world, but with his daughters, he's the most gentle person you've met. something about the soft smile he gives when he indulges his girls. something about the way his eyes light up whenever they talk to him about anything, even if it's trivial. something about the way he's taken care of you since last night, not just giving you a shelter during a terrible night but also giving you so much warmth from his personal life. it's all made you see a completely different side to seungcheol than you'd met at the courtroom, and it's changed the way you've grown to see him completely.
now you know that seungcheol was not harsh to you that day at lunch, he was simply being realistic. his cockiness and arrogance is just self-confidence, it doesn't define who he is as a person. and he's still a man you can look up to and admit, without shame, to yourself that this is the ideal man in your eyes.
your phone pings right then, and you open it to see the mail that's arrived.
the cup of tea almost slips and falls from your hands as you jump up in your seat in joy. seungcheol looks up at you in alarm, "what happened?" your smile is bright, just like the sun this morning. "i have an emergency at work, i'll have to leave now! please say goodbye to sol and byul from my side!" and you rush into your room to change into your clothes from last night, still damp but at least cleaner, and you literally run out of the house, waving and thanking seungcheol again and again, leaving him very very confused indeed.
_
seungcheol feels incredibly at peace the next day when he walks into the courtroom. even though you'd disappeared suddenly like that without any explanation, he's quite sure that he's back in your good books. not that it matters much- because what really counts is how he's feeling about himself. and after many years, he's feeling good. the usual guilt that engulfs him as a whole every day as he wakes up to face a new morning, isn't bothering him. he feels like he's achieved something, he's done something right, and he's going to get better from now on.
but as soon as he pushes open the doors of the courtroom, he feels like he's missing something out. everyone on his side of the bench seems flustered as hell, papers rumpled and expressions distraught. but he doesn't get an opportunity to ask what's going on because you catch his attention first.
"seungcheol, can we talk for a second?"
"not right now, i have to talk to my team-"
"this is urgent. you'll want to hear this, i promise."
seungcheol lets out a long sigh as he takes in your words. there's a crisp confidence in your words today that intrigue him. "okay go ahead," he finally replies.
"in private, if you please." he follows you wordlessly out of the room, and you lead him out towards a small isolated office in the corner of the building, that's totally deserted. seungcheol leans back against the closed door, completely silent as he waits for you to settle your papers and finally look up at him.
"so what's this about? you wanna kiss me or someth-"
"you're going to lose the case today. i've found enough evidence to prove the absolute guilt of KNT, and the ceo will go to jail by the end of the court session today."
"you're bluffing me."
"i can show you the evidence, but i'd rather you'd see it in court."
"then why are you telling me this now? to pity me?" seungcheol's mouth fills with bile as a dread settles over him. the tables are turned- now he feels as rattled as he had seen you feel that day at lunch. what if you're being serious right now? what if you've actually found incriminating evidence? but he's gone through all potential sources of evidence with his client, left no stone unturned to hide all tracks-
"so that maybe you can step off the case in time. do you really want your daughters to find out you've been defending your client for so long knowing you're defending a criminal?"
seungcheol's heart skips a beat.
"do not bring them into this."
"i'm not bringing anyone into anything. this is just me being nice to you because i know what it feels like to be disappointed by someone you look up to."
"do you hear what you're saying, y/n?" he takes two steps closer to you. "this is borderline blackmail. i don't even know if you're bluffing or not, and you're already blackmailing me using my daughters. have you fallen to the same crude level i'm in? are you going to disappoint me like this?"
his words have the expected effect on you. he can see your cheeks flush pink. "seu-seungcheol, don't twist my words." you take a step back, your back straightening as he sees confidence seep back into your face.
"and maybe you should stop worrying about my morals and worry more about how badly you're going to lose the case. from next time, don't make rookie mistakes." your finals words, before you leave the room, ring in his ears and cause goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.
as soon as you're gone, seungcheol slams the desk in front of him, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour. what might have slipped from his sight? what might he have missed? he immediately calls the ceo of KNT enterprises.
"what have you been hiding from me?"
"oh? mr choi, what happened to greetings? good morning to yo-"
"nothing's good about today morning, mr kim. what have you been hiding from me? i'm not going to ask you again."
"nothing! i've bared my entire soul to you for the case."
"mr kim, there's a fresh piece of incriminating evidence that's been found, and i cannot do anything to stop mrs hwang's lawyer from submitting it to the court unless you tell me what it is exactly."
"mr choi, you're mistaken, there's nothing left to be wiped-"
"the first rule of a client and lawyer relationship," his voice is seething and snarky, volume rising with each word, "is that you should never lie to your lawyer." seungcheol knows if mr kim was in front of him right now, he'd be quaking in his shoes. he can imagine a similar situation on the other side of the phone too. he knows he's intimidating enough when he wants to be.
"i didn't think it would be important-"
"you're not the person to judge what's important and what's not, mr kim."
there's a sigh and the voice becomes shaky.
"there's an outstation branch..."
_
the case ends unceremoniously. there are no paparazzi waiting for you outside the courtroom, ready to capture your life's first win. there are no cameras flashing on you, no historic moments being documented, no crowds gathering to celebrate this win for the masses.
there's just seola's happy tears and a wildly beautiful feeling of victory in your heart as realisation ultimately sinks in for you. it's a clean win- the evidence showing unmatched proof of orders coming from KNT to mr hwang, detailing all sorts of illegal activities and even records of payments being made to mr hwang. it's really crazy how it's not been eradicated cleanly already by seungcheol. clearly, either he or his client had underestimated you.
but you'd proven them wrong.
yoona's the only who comes to see you outside the courtroom after the win. there's a bright smile on her face as she hugs you and congratulates you. seola promises that she's going to take you out on a treat right now. other colleagues from your workplace call you to congratulate you on the win.
and yet you feel empty.
seungcheol's gone. he hadn't come for the trial. he'd not been in the courtroom for the final statements, his aide quoting something about a family emergency. he'd run with his tail between his legs, ashamed of his failure and finally realising his stupidity. this thought should be giving you satisfaction, but surprisingly, it doesn't. it leaves you feeling empty, still wanting something even though you've won the case just now.
but there's no way to reach out to him. you don't even have his number for god's sake, and it would be awfully awkward to go to his house. and what would you say? that you missed seeing his sad face in court when the verdict was announced? that you wanted to see if he'd be proud of you for winning the case? that you wanted to impress him by beating him in the case cleanly without any dirty tricks? so you go to eat out with yoona and seola, and decide to stop thinking about seungcheol any further.
_
it's about seven in the evening when you make it back to your tiny flat in a shabby part of town, the house dark as you'd left it in the morning after rushing home from seungcheol's place. you smile to yourself when you unlock your home using the password on the door, thinking of how you'd been with seungcheol's adorable daughters last night, and how much fun you'd had with them.
your bag falls from your hand as you open the door.
"seungcheol?!" your voice is a shaky whisper, shocked to see him inside your house. "how the fuck did you get in?"
he's still wearing the suit he'd worn in the morning, and yet he looks divine in the dim reflection of lights from the world outside the window.
"your password's your birthday. got it on my first try."
"and how do you know my birthday?"
he takes a step closer, his body towering over yours. "shhh. it's called knowing your opponent."
there's something so oddly intimate about seeing him in your flat, in the shadows of your home. the street light illuminates one side of his face, and you can't breathe because of how gorgeous he looks.
"why do you know my birthday, seungcheol? really it's not going to help you in any way-"
"it did help me get into your house."
you lightly pick up the bag from on the floor next to you, and you walk past him. "which brings me back to the first question. why are you here?"
you're purposely avoiding his gaze, the intensity making you feel things. there's a plethora of emotions in your heart right now- finally the emptiness in your heart dissipates as you can feel yourself surrounded by seungcheol. you're taking off your blazer, untying your hair, walking over to the sink to wash your face... but you can't ignore the way you can feel seungcheol's eyes on your back. his heady scent clouds your senses, and you feel weak in your limbs. first he's intruding your house, and now your heart too?
"i have a question to ask you." he speaks after a long time, when you've finally cleaned up and taken out a cup of strawberry yoghurt from the refridgerator.
"you could've asked me on the phone." you lean back on a wall, putting yourself as far away from seungcheol as possible in your tiny flat. he's in the darkness, you're in the light, but you're still feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.
"i couldn't. it's serious." he starts walking towards you.
"seungcheol, if this is about me trying to expose your shit, i'm not going t-" seungcheol puts his hand on your lips, pushing you against the wall.
"fuck that. this isn't about that."
you cock your eyebrow, mumbling against his hand, "then what is it about?"
seungcheol doesn't answer at once, his gaze continuing to pin you against the wall, and a hand comes around you to trap you between his bigger body and the wall. "seungcheol?"
"answer me honestly, okay?" his voice is raw, slightly wobbly, and you're getting more and more curious. you nod slowly, encouraging him to say whatever's on his mind. but he doesn't say anything. a few minutes pass just like that- or maybe an hour. his scent makes you dizzy, you can't think of anything but how his big figure is over you totally.
"when you said you looked up to me in college... i know i ruined that image. b- but... can you... fuck. wait. canyoueverforgiveme?"
"what?" you ask, confused at what he just said. he removes the hand from your mouth, standing even closer than before.
"can you ever forgive me? will you let me show you a better side of me? can i ever get in your good books again?"
your breath stops for a second. why does this matter for him? doesn't he already know the state he's left your heart in since last night- ever since he'd brought you into his car, he's already been promoted to your ideal man again.
"show me a better side of you? what do you mean, seungcheol?"
he sighs for a second, before straightening his posture, becoming impossibly even bigger.
"will you ever see me as a man, y/n?"
your knees almost give in. the fuck is his implying? are you dreaming this? is this a fever drea-
seungcheol leans in and kisses your cheek, close enough to your lips, his breath falling on your skin, and making your body tingle. "will you let me show you myself to you like this?" on instinct, you tilt your head away to give him more access, your body shivering with the intimacy. so he kisses your cheek again, closer yet to your lips, and you turn your head slightly to capture his lips, but he moves away.
"y/n, don't leave me hanging please. i know you might find this odd... but i've come to feel things for you that i didn't even know remained in me. you're an extraordinary woman, one of a kind. in all my life, i haven't met anyone like you. not even my ex-wife. you don't know this yet but you're the ideal image of perfection i've always thought of."
then he stops talking for a second, clearly expecting an answer from you. but your mind can't form words, not with the way you have tunnel vision on his face right now, your eyes drifting to his pretty cherry lips, to his long eyelashes, to the beautifully expressive eyes you've fantasised about since your college days.
"y/n, say something please." his voice is desperate, and you break out of your daze.
"you're my ideal man too, seungcheol. you have no idea for how long." there's a blush creeping on your cheeks, but in the dim yellow lighting, you can see an identical blush rise on his cheeks too. so you lean in and finally kiss his elusive lips, feeling the taste of his chapped but pretty lips on yours, feeling the way his body steps even closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him, and your body melts as you feel the warmth from his body. the kisses slowly grow in pace, the momentum rising, as he kisses you more and more hungrily, his tongue entering your mouth too, as he begins to bite your lips and leaves you breathless and moaning just from a few kisses.
"god, rookie. you sure know how to kiss."
"i know how to do a lot of things, seungcheol." you know you're bad at dirty talk, you've never really succeeded at it during your few college experiences of sex. but somehow, seungcheol's eyes roll back at your words and you feel his heartbeat quicken up too. maybe it's working on him?
you try to test your hypothesis by gently wrapping your hands around his neck, slowly untying his tie, slipping it to the floor. once it's off, you rub your hands all over his chest, feeling the pure hard muscle flex under your muscles. his breathing is as hot and heavy as yours, and you slowly untuck his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning it carefully.
"must you torture me like this, y/n?" his eyes are glazed over, but you look up at him innocently. "what, seungcheol?" "fuck it, you're such a tease, princess." princess. he pushes you against the wall and kisses you again, one hand wrapped around your hair as he pulls you in, and another hand helping you unbutton his shirt and get it out of the way. seungcheol doesn't stop kissing you even when he begins to unbutton your own shirt, but his hands wander all over the skin he slowly unravels. it's like his own adventure mission, the gentle but urgent way he touches your skin, almost worshipping.
"you're so perfect, y/n." you whimper when he cups your breasts from over your simple black bra that does nothing to flaunt your tits, but somehow seungcheol's appreciating it all. are you really his perfect woman?
"do you mean it, seungcheol?" your voice is so weak, but it takes seungcheol aback. "what do you mean, y/n? you don't think i find you beautiful? is that why i've been dreaming about you every night these days? is that why you're always on my mind? is that why i died and came back from heaven last night when i saw you with my kids?" your breath hitches as he tilts your face to look at him. "you're the most perfect woman i've ever met, i told you. you've gotta believe me, y/n. or do i have to show you?"
"maybe, yes?"
he groans at your words, and his eyes become darker. "fuck, where's your bedroom, babe?"
_
seungcheol's touch is like moonlight caressing the ripples of a pond at midnight. a soft, gentle touch that lights up every inch of your skin that he touches. as the moonlight kisses the water and makes it ebb and flow with it, seungcheol's movements guide your body too. he's laying you out on a bed, his hands wandering all over your skin. as he takes in your figure, you let him, because he's making you feel so good. he kisses all over your body, your limbs tangling as you can't get enough of each other. seungcheol is all muscle, his hard planes flexing against your supple skin. he pins you against the headpost of your small double size bed, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other caressing your breasts, making sure there's not even a single inch of your skin that's left untouched.
"did i tell you i think you're perfect?" his words are feverish, and leave you lost for words. so you can't reply to him, hoping he gets the way you feel about him too through your desperate whines and moans, pulling him closer if he puts even a hair's distance between your bodies. something about him being so big and engulfing your smaller stature is so hot, you can feel yourself getting aroused by the minute.
"seungcheol, i w- want to... touch you," you finally whisper out, and he pulls away from where he's been kissing your neck. "but you are?"
you shake your head and shove him lightly until he's on his back, and you're hovering above him. he's still wearing his pants while he's stripped you naked, so you do the honours for him. "what are you doing," his voice is strained. "want to touch you there," you focus on taking his trousers off until he's just in his underwear under you- his bulge quite obvious to you. if you weren't wet enough earlier, seeing the massive wet patch on his grey boxers leaves your own underwear soaked. is he this aroused because of you?
seungcheol seems to read your mind as he brings your face towards his own, whispering with hot breath, "do you see what you do to me, princess? got me wrecked and ruined." his confession is so raw, you lean in to kiss him again. as you do, your hand wraps around his clothed dick, and he groans into your mouth. "fuck fuck fuck," he curses as you begin to rub it softly. "i'm going to cum right now if you do that- babe, p-please!" he finally gets your hand off his dick, eyes large.
and then you giggle. something about seeing seungcheol so desperate triggers something off in you, makes you more determined to ruin him. so you pull off his boxers and take his erect, red cock straight into your mouth. seungcheol's body trembles with surprise, your name leaving his mouth in broken moans as he cannot take the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off in an excruciatingly slow speed. and you don't stop, even when his hand comes around the nape of your neck to keep you in place, even when you feel his entire body tense up with the imminent orgasm. you don't stop until he comes inside your mouth, spewing string after string of his hot seed, and you swallow it all. his breathing is laboured as he watches you lick off the last bits of the orgasm from his dick.
but your self-satisfaction of having the upper hand only lasts for so long. seungcheol's competitive side kicks in soon and he quickly flips over to pin you under him on the bed, his teeth nibbling at your chest, leaving pretty hickeys all over.
"let me return the favour, darling."
you don't know what he means right then by return the favour, but never in your wildest dreams, did you think it would include seungcheol burying his face into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue laps up your wetness.
"fuck! no- seungcheol- pl-please, cheol!"
"do you want me to stop?" he asks you, his face barely moving up inches from your pussy to look into your eyes.
you hesitate before answering, so he softly kisses your stomach. "tell me, princess."
"i've never done this before..."
"what? sex?"
"no. oral. like no one's ever gone down on me before..."
and seungcheol doesn't waste another minute. he uses his teeth to push aside your panties and inserts his tongue right into your sloppy cunt, and you scream out his name. he doesn't go slow, and you don't want him to go slow. he's showing you all the stars in the sky, so you grab onto his hair to move his head back to a particularly good spot, and he moans incoherently when you tug at his locks. and within minutes, you're reaching your high, your screams getting stuck in your throat as you close your eyes and arch your back off the bed.
thankfully, seungcheol gets his face out of your cunt and hovers over you to take in your writhing figure under the impact of the orgasm.
"so how was your first experience?" he asks you when you finally open your eyes and look at him, his lips smeared with your essence and his body.
"heavenly," you whisper, before pulling him into you, and kissing him again. you can get drunk on his kisses. he's leaving your lips abused and raw, but when he's spitting into your mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling the toughness of his back muscles shift under your touch. this position ends up making his cock graze against your clit, and you jerk in overstimulation. but you can feel how hard he's getting with the kissing and the way your hands are tugging his hair. the heavy length rests on your stomach, and seungcheol pulls away.
"need to be inside you now, princess." his words have this rawness to them- long gone is the smooth-talker lawyer choi seungcheol. it takes several moments for you to process that you've caused him to descend to this desperation.
"do you have a condom?" he asks you.
"hmm, i do." you point towards the dresser next to your bed, and he casually bends away to take it out from the dresser. you're getting more turned on by his easy flexibility, and as soon as he's got the condom rolled on to his dick, you pull him for kisses again.
"patience, baby," he laughs, as he pulls away again after kissing you, to nudge the tip of his dick on your folds. "nooo, need you now. need your lips." "did my kisses break you?" "i think so," your voice is a whisper and he leans in to kiss you again, a beautiful smile showing off his dimples.
and then he's slowly pushing inside you, making you whine out his name as you feel him stretch you. it's not an easy fit, but his kisses make the pain easier to bear. when a tear escapes your eyes, he asks you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "is it very painful?" "not very but it's been a while." he leaves kisses on your hairline. "i'll be gentle, princess."
you grip his locks tighter, pulling his face away to make eye contact.
"you better not dare, choi seungcheol."
something breaks in him. his hips begin to move faster, as he pushes your hands above your head, holding them as if handcuffed, and he's biting hickeys all over your neck. he's thrusting harder now, and your second-hand bed is already making noises. but it seems to arouse you more for some reason. something about him shaking everything around you and moulding you and everything about you to him makes you want him more.
you can't stop moaning his name, as he whispers into your ear, "i can feel how close you are baby. can feel your cunt clenching around me." "pl-please, cheol. need you more, please!" "more? faster?" you nod feverishly, and he pulls away, biting his bottom lip in concentration, one hand gripping the bed, and the other your leg around his waist, as he fucks into you.
you take in his full form, towering over you like adonis. beads of sweat falling down his pecs and his hair falling into his eyes. the sight is so beautiful that you cum right then, even as seungcheol fucks you through the orgasm.
you can feel that he's close, his dick twitching inside you, as he's making your eyes roll back. even after one orgasm, he keeps fucking you. "give me one more, baby. cum with me." and then he shifts one hand to rub your clit, and you moan under the additional touch. the last straw is when you clench around him so hard that he lets out a strangled moan and reaches his climax too. you can feel the condom become warmer, and you tremble all over as you cum again because of that sensation.
when your eyes open again, seungcheol's pulled out from you, but he sneakily lets in a finger in between your folds and licks it clean.
"seungcheol?" your broken whisper makes him look up at you.
he smirks. "you taste like nectar, baby."
_
seungcheol's insomnia doesn't let him get a full night's sleep on most nights. if he's lucky, he'll sleep for four hours at once, dreamless rest that leaves him fully charged for the next day. on other days, he'll stare into the night sky for hours, sleep eluding him. some nights he'll go to his daughters' room, and watch them sleep, his heart filling up with a warmth that's comforting like chicken soup. on other nights, he'll open his laptop, put on his glasses and finish his case files.
everyone wonders how seungcheol is so efficient at his profession. only he knows why.
but ever since you've come into his life, everything's changed.
he can no longer focus on work. he's distracted, making silly typing errors and forgetting details. but he's sleeping the best ever in a long time. he doesn't remember when was the last time he'd slept this well. it must've been before the fights had started with his ex-wife.
today, seungcheol sleeps for eight hours straight.
and he knows why.
it's because he's wrapped around you, your body melting into his under the duvet. your head's resting on his arm, but his arm doesn't hurt at all. your hair shines with the sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the curtains, but you sleep through the slight pouring into your eyes. you look particularly angelic today morning, and he feels his entire being shiver with the new-found affection for you.
you're his.
finally.
well, hopefully.
jeonghan had told him yesterday when he'd told him about his feelings for you, you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot.
and oh, he had shot his shot. shot it too fast in fact. the clarity of the morning makes him suddenly worry if going straight into your bed last night had been too quick and you'll think poorly of him now. then there's the worry about you going to sleep without eating dinner last night- what if you wake up angry? another worry crops in his head as he realises it's a saturday. he doesn't have to go to work today, but you might have to. what if you get upset at him for not waking you up on time? the warm, glorious light in seungcheol's heart dims slightly as he realises you have so many reasons to turn him down.
so he lightly shakes you, whispering your name in your ear, until he feels you whisper out a soft five minutes. it makes his heart melt again, but he's more worried about you missing a work day.
"wake up, princess, you're going to be late."
as if hearing a magic word, you jolt awake, staring right into his eyes.
"late?! what's the time? fuck, it's nine-thirty!"
"it's saturday though. do you have work today?"
and then you fall back on his arm with a huff.
"saturday! of course i don't have work today. why did you wake me up!" you whine and turn around so that you're now snuggled into seungcheol's bare chest, your hair only slightly tickling him. the warm light in his heart shines bright again as he feels you cling to him.
"i didn't know if you work on saturday or not." seungcheol leaves a kiss in your hair, and you let out a satisfied sigh.
"now you know. never forget, okay? never wake me up on weekends."
never forget.
"i won't." another kiss in your hair. another sigh that makes his chest buzz. another kiss. and then you open one eye to peer at him, and he smiles at your cuteness. so there's another kiss, and then another, and then-
"stop!" you move out of his arms, giggling, your eyes finally open.
"i can't. you're too cute."
"shhhh!" you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, a gentle peck, and seungcheol takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arms again. "don't go far away." he's more serious that his tone implies, but somehow you realise that too. so you snuggle in closer, your head almost on his chest now. "i won't."
after a few long minutes of you being still in his arms, and him smelling your scent through your hair, you finally shuffle and pull him down so that his head is now resting on the pillow and you're resting your head on your palm, perched on the pillow using your elbow as support, looking down at him with clear fondness in your eyes.
"you're very romantic today, mr choi."
"do you not like it?"
"no. on the contrary, i love it."
at your words, he smiles, and you let out a fake gasp. "the rabbit has dimples!" and you attack his face with kisses, leaving him giggly and blushing as you smother him with love.
when you're finally done, he pulls your face in for a kiss and then you go back to your position to look at him from above.
"come lie down next to me."
"no this view is prettier."
seungcheol scoffs, hiding the way his heart is racing with your words. it's been years since anything barely romantic- a few dates here and there. but this is teenage seungcheol again, falling head over heels for a girl with a pretty smile and a cute way of speaking her mind.
"this view is the prettiest," he says and he's rewarded with your pretty smile again. so he spends a minute staring at the view, taking in your beauty.
you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot. somehow jeonghan's nagging voice comes up in his head again and makes him remember that he's yet to ask you properly.
so he counts to three and says it.
"i like you, y/n. a lot. as i told you last night."
a strawberry latte blush taints your cheeks.
"and as i told you last night, you're pretty much my dream man, seungcheol. i've been crushing on you since my freshman year."
well that was easy.
"that long?" seungcheol feels his confidence cruise back, a smirk on his lips.
"don't laugh at me."
"i'm not. it's just unbelievable that you liked me back then. i wasn't even well off back then."
"who even cares about that! you were confident, manly, intelligent and passionate about your work. and so, so handsome. how could anyone not like you?"
"am i not handsome now?"
"of course you are, silly. that's why i still like you." you roll your eyes, as if it's so obvious. "i couldn't even date guys for a long time because i kept comparing them to you in my mind."
seungcheol's eyes go wide. "wait, really? that's kinda sad."
you laugh. "maybe, but who cares? none of them were nice in the end. that's why i kept going back to crushing on you." you lean in to kiss the mole on his cheek.
"how long has it been since your last relationship?"
"hmmm, about seven months? broke up before i graduated."
"and sex?" he hopes you can't see the way he's holding back his breath as you answer. "about a year."
and then he lets out his breath.
"and you?" you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.
he hesitates before replying. "nine years," his voice is weak.
and then you do what he's been fearing for so long.
you laugh.
"wow. that's like... that is long." but your expression changes into a serious one soon. "but you haven't lost any of your technique yet. so it's a win in my books. i don't even have to be jealous of anyone else. who was your last lucky lady?"
"my ex-wife." seungcheol winces as he mentally prepares himself for all the reasons you might turn him down.
but you don't. your serious expression remains even as you're surprised. "you were married? is she the mother of sol and byul?"
"yeah."
you nod your head slowly, digesting the information. after a second you say, "i can't fathom why anyone would leave you and your two perfect little girls."
seungcheol's smile turns bitter. "she did. but it doesn't matter. she's found a better life now, after moving away to the US with her new husband. and i've found a better life too, moving away from her."
you nod again. "you're very brave, cheol." and you kiss his cheek again, and seungcheol's heart swells at how maturely you've handled this conversation. but there's yet more reasons for you to reject him.
when you pull away to look at him again, you softly ask him, "are your daughters okay with the idea of you dating again?" dating. there are tingles all over seungcheol's body as you finally quash all worries from his mind. "i haven't explicitly discussed this with them," he says with some hesitation. "that being said, i think they like you a lot. you made a very strong first impression. and trust me, for ten year olds as stubborn as mine, a first impression is all that matters."
"they're just like you," you giggle, your hand fondly cupping his cheek. "but seriously. they like me as a friend... as your colleague. what if they don't like me as your... girlfriend?"
girlfriend. seungcheol wants to flip you down on the bed and make love to you all over again, but he resists his urge. he settles for wrapping his hand around your hips and caressing them. "they'll love you, princess. they've longed for a mother figure for long enough." after a pause he says, "i'm worried they'll not see you as a mother figure but as a sister."
you burst out laughing. "what?!"
"i'm much older than you, y/n."
"so?"
"i'm thirty-six, y/n."
"that's not old. i'm twenty-three."
seungcheol chokes on his own words. "exactly. i'm literally old enough to be your father, y/n."
"well, you'd have to become a father really really early then," you say, laughing.
"y/n, be serious."
"i am being serious. i've met men who're twenty but act like they're forty. what really matters is what you've got here-" and you poke at his chest where his heart's supposed to be.
"i'm going to die thirteen years before you!"
"darling, i don't think that's how death works."
darling. seungcheol's heart hammers against his chest as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. and then you pull away from him. "you're a dilf, seungcheol. that's like 80% of why i'm attracted to you. bet i wouldn't be attracted to twenty-three year old you." there's a teasing glint in your eyes, but seungcheol still whines as he feels upset at your teasing words. "babyyyy!" you laugh at his deepening pout, and lean in to kiss his pout in a peck, before getting out of bed.
seungcheol's mouth falls open as he takes in your soft curves which look even more alluring in the daylight. something about the way your ass sways as you walk makes his dick twitch in interest, but seungcheol curses himself. he can't be thirty-six and this hormonal, for fucks' sake.
you open the closet door to pull out a loose t-shirt and shorts, wearing them without any underwear. "do you want to stay for breakfast?"
a lazy grin spreads on seungcheol's face as he stretches his body in bed, relishing the way you ogle his stretching biceps, and he casually pushes the blanket away from his hips to reveal his toned stomach to you too.
"i want to stay for the rest of my life, rookie."
he's left with no doubt of reciprocation of his feeling as he sees the blush on your face as you hide and run from him at his cheesy words.
523 notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 1 year
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Loverboy ༓ kth (m)
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✑ Summary: After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.
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Pairing: taehyung x reader
AU/Genre: fluff, smut, angst, established relationship
Word Count: 7,177
Warnings: feat. Jimin and Tannie, body insecurity (including some self-deprecation but nothing toooo bad), sexual insecurity, a hint of marriage insecurity, catty coworkers (one who wants your bf! 😠), swearing, social drinking, and explicit sexual content
Sexual warnings: oh where do I start? dom!taehyung, sub!reader, two smut scenes, praise kink, asking for consent, lingerie, foggy glasses, reader is on pill, f*ngering in the kitchen, oral (f.), d*rty talk, making out, tiny bit of breastplay, m*ssonary (legs over shoulders and then around waist), hand holding while c*ming bc I'm a sap, slight begging kink, back kisses, cuddling, taehyung calls oc sl*t once but all other times he is calling her beautiful, baby, etc., lots of neck kisses, oc does her best to initiate, if I have overlooked some my apologies....these are the main ones though.
Now Playing: UP by J. Valentine (thanks to tae's live 😳)
A/N: I've been have crazy tae fever 😅 once again my pwp's turn into fluffy one-shots hahah with smut ofc. Anyway please enjoy 🥰 fyi oc isn't a virgin nor shy generally speaking, but she's nervous about her sexual abilities.
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The last ten minutes of work on Fridays are possibly the best moments of your life.
And it’s all thanks to an unspeakably gorgeous man with ruffled ebony hair, perfectly plump cherry lips, and a seductive tiger-like gaze. The faint mole on his nose is wicked cute too and when he puts his reading glasses on–oh fuck.
Of course, you’re referring to your boyfriend, Taehyung. You accidentally bumped into him while he was taking his Pomeranian for a walk four months ago; leading to the messiest (yet cute) first date ever. Now, he and Tannie come over to your apartment every weekend for snuggles under your cozy fleece blankets.
TGIF right?
But while Friday nights typically consist of snuggling with two goofs, it means getting hammered at the bar downtown to your coworkers. You don’t typically take up their invites to join but tonight you were guilt-tripped into it. Something about chumming with the gossipy group rather than being on their blacklist for the seventh rejection in a row was more appealing—they can be a vicious bunch.
Taehyung wasn't off work for another hour or two anyway, leaving you with a decent amount of time to kill. So why not appease the peanut gallery for a few?
“It’s my two-year anniversary with Eun-woo,” one of your coworkers, Ji-won, pipes up after taking a sip of her Cosmopolitan. She swirls the glass in her hand before setting it down on the table. Ji-won works in the finance department and is absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is clear, has honey-colored eyes, and possibly the best body proportions a woman can have. Her personality is no joke either and her laugh? Infectious. Everyone who comes across her either wants to marry her or be her best friend.
The cynical part of you wants to dislike her but it’s impossible–that’s how charismatic she is.
“Oh my god, congratulations babe!” Another coworker of yours reaches over and pulls the woman into a tight squeeze, giggling at the news. Suzy also works in the finance department and the pair are the best of friends. “I can’t believe how well it’s been going between you and Eun-woo! What are you doing to celebrate? You have to tell me!” She grabs her friend's shoulders and shakes her.
Unlike Ji-won, Suzy is much more energetic and eager to know the details of everyone’s lives. Nosy in other words. But despite her invasiveness, she manages to attract a great number of suitors as well; taking nearly half of them home with her every night. Suzy has beautiful bone structure and to get to the point, she’s naturally very sexy.
You don’t feel the same way towards her as you do with Ji-won; you dislike her quite a bit. The main reason is that she has an insane crush on your boyfriend and shamelessly flirts with him whenever he’s around. She’s told you many times before that if anything happened between you two, to let her know. She masks it as a joke to lighten the blow but god, you don’t like calling people a bitch but if the shoe fits.
“We’re taking a short weekend trip to Jeju Island,” you hear Ji-won’s silky voice reply, cheeks growing rosier with each word. “I think he might propose to me but I’m so nervous.” Her fingers move to grip her Cosmopolitan; raising it to her ruby-red lips to take another sip.
“That’s so wonderful,” you start, downing a shot yourself. The burn of the alcohol rolling down the back of your throat serves as an excellent distraction from your personal worries about marriage. You love the idea but would anyone stay with you for life?
Your relationship with Taehyung has been going swimmingly well, with the occasional fight here and there, but you haven’t been together nearly long enough for a proposal to come into the picture. Maybe someday but you can’t afford to jump ahead of yourself.
“Jeju Island will be perfect for you both. You’re like a couple straight from the Hallmark movies,” you continue with an encouraging smile. “You be sure to tell us if he really does propose though. What hint did he give to cause your suspicions?”
Ji-won chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind an ear. “We were packing for the trip last night and I saw him sneak a small jewelry box into his bag. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe I was seeing things but when I thought about it later, I don’t think I was wrong.”
Once again, Suzy grips the poor woman’s arm to tug it out of excitement. “Please tell me I get to plan the bachelorette party! I’ll hire only the best strippers for you babe, as long as you want them of course. Oh, I’m just so crazy about this! Weddings are my heart and soul!”
After watching the scene unfold in front of you a grimace spreads on your lips. “Weddings are your heart and soul?” you repeat as a question, trying to withhold your judgment. “Last I knew you weren’t the fondest of happily ever afters.”
“That’s a good point!” A fist suddenly pounds on the table. You all look toward the source; your third coworker Mina who’s already borderline drunk. Mina is your IT specialist and after so much HTML and Python, her brain is utterly fried. Similar to you, she started dating someone about six months back except he’s been on an overseas business trip for the past week.
“Suzy,” she points at the woman whose eyes widen at the stark gesture. “You sleep around, right? So __’s right that you don’t actually like fairytale weddings.” Her words slur a bit due to her drunken state.
Across the table, Suzy rolls her eyes and shrugs. “For myself yeah, but not for other people. I’m not against weddings entirely.” She leans towards Ji-won with hopeful eyes. “By the way, if you need help picking out what underwear to bring with you on your trip, just say the word.”
Ji-won’s previous blush returns fourfold at the offer. “Thanks but I have that under control.”
“Oh good,” she praises, waving her margarita around in her hand. “It’d be an atrocity if you didn’t. Lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping your sex life spicy, and if you didn’t have any I’d drag all of us to the store right now. __ agrees with me.” She winks. “Her and Taehyung must have gone through tons of sets by now.”
What. The. Fuck.
When did Ji-won’s potential engagement turn into a poke into your sex life?
You choose to ignore the comment entirely.
Not that she needs to know but you and Taehyung have recently started becoming very active in the bedroom; you're never in the same position twice. Even began getting down and dirty in the back seat of his car (...if he isn’t the biggest experimentalist you’ve dated then you don’t even know your own name).
But while it's been wild in the bedroom, lingerie isn’t an area you’ve explored yet.
You know, it sounds crazy. Surely a couple that's open to a whole list of kinks and positions would dabble in something as basic as lacy underwear.
It's not the case here.
Truth is you're timid of the whole idea; of purposefully seducing someone with your body. Would you be so bold? No, even if you are interested to try it out, you'd shy away within the first ten seconds.
Yes, you've recently become sexually active with your boyfriend but 90% of the time it's him who's doing the initiating. The subtle hand on your thigh or kiss on your neck while you're trying to wash the dishes—he's truly evil with that one.
Not to mention that Taehyung has your clothes ripped off before you can blink so what's the point of buying expensive, itchy lingerie?
Atrocity or not, you have your reasons.
"Well?" The sound of Suzy's nagging tone brings you out of your daze. She stares you down with piercing eyes, demanding a reply.
You merely shrug and take another shot.
Sorry, but you're not really into the whole swapping sex stories with the woman who wants to sleep with your boyfriend.
Suzy gives a small huff when she realizes you aren't talking. "So anyway..." she turns to the other two. "Sex is boring without a proper lace set. Or silk if that's more your thing. I have at least twenty in my draw." She takes the lime from the rim of her glass and plops it into her margarita proudly.
You're mid-eye roll when you hear Mina shouting in agreement. "Hell yeah, it's boring! I just got a new set the other day for a video call I'm having with my boyfriend tomorrow night." A round of oohs is given before she continues. You on the other hand listen intently. "Ever since he's been away in England at his conferences, it's been like a heaven sent to keeping our sex life alive."
Ji-won nods. "I wasn't sure how it would go the first time I wore lace for Eun-woo. Once I did, we never went back. It gave me a sense of power to take the lead too, which most men find really hot. It gets tiring when they have to do all the work all the time."
The girls chuckle together while your mind reels. Taehyung's never had a problem with you being in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants before fucking you silly. But then again, it's not like you've ever asked him.
Your face flushes at the thought—you've never actually asked if he wanted more.
Is he actually happy with the sex?
Should you be doing more for him like wearing lacy underwear or a maid outfit (or whatever's in these days)?
Maybe he isn't satisfied at all but tolerates it because he loves you. Sex isn't the only part that matters in a relationship you know.
Still.
It's an important one.
And if a few pieces of lace are seemingly such a necessity as your coworkers attest...then you're fucked.
Ji-woo places a gentle hand on your shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern. "You feeling okay? This is the second time you've zoned out in twenty minutes."
"Oh my god," Suzy gasps, hand covering her mouth. "It makes sense now. You haven't had sex with Taehyung yet have you?!" Her eyes smile at you devilishly as she bites down a grin. This woman seriously needs to get a hobby other than obsessing over your boyfriend.
"Actually," you drawl, scooting your chair backward until you're able to get up. "We have multiple times and we don't plan on stopping. He's coming to my place in an hour or so where he'll gladly fuck me wherever we please. I gotta head out for that now but see you all Monday."
You hurry away from the group as quick as you can, fully aware of their eyes burning holes in the back of your neck and jaws dropping in shock. Why did you say that __? Fuck it.
You feel unwell.
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For the next hour and a half, you're restless; pacing around the house in search of meaningless tasks to do. Cleaning usually helps in these situations, though it's proving quite useless this time.
Are you a good sex partner?
Does he secretly wish you'd take the riegns more?
You fluff the living room pillow and toss it on the couch. Stupid. It's all stupid but you can't shake it.
When your boyfriend finally arrives at your place, you take a deep breath before throwing the front door open.
"Hi baby, how was your d—"
As soon as Taehyung strolls inside and sets Tannie down on your apartment floor, you grab the collar of his shirt and press your lips firmly on his. He's surprised at your boldness yet not the slightest disappointed given the hands that smoothly settle around your hips.
"I missed you," you say desperately, walking him back into your kitchen island. Taehyung grunts when the small of his back hits the edge.
"I missed you more."
He shoves his tongue into your mouth, drawing out a sweet moan from your lips. His favorite is when you gasp, hips bucking into his. So with subtle fingers, he untucks your blouse from your pants to trace up the expanse of your back. His cool fingers cause you to shiver as he does this; not because you're chilly but because of the growing anticipation inside you.
As Taehyung runs his large palms up and down your bare back, you card through his soft, fluffy hair. He knows how messed up you enjoy making it. That and it's typically a sign that you're extremely turned on; yearning for him.
He'll gladly take either.
"Oh!" You yelp when he spins you around until it's your back against the counter. An unexpected giggle comes out of you upon seeing his glasses foggy from your mid-make-out session. You do the honors of removing them from his face and carefully set them on the counter. "Hi handsome," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Taehyung lowers his head to nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, placing several feather-like kisses along the ridge. "Beautiful," he returns your greeting, smokey eyes lifting back up to meet yours. "Wasn't prepared to be kissed like that."
"Did you like it?" You bite your lip which most definitely does nothing to tame the growing erection in his trousers. Taehyung brings a thumb up to your lower lip and swipes across it lightly before pushing it into your mouth.
"I liked it a little too much." His voice drops a few octaves as he watches you suck on the digit. He'd rather have it be his big cock but it's all about the build-up. "I was trying to be a good boyfriend and ask about your day but all you seem to want is to get dicked down on your kitchen counter. Is that all that's on your mind tonight baby? To spread your legs like a dirty girl?"
You whine and rub your thighs together but he prys them apart with his knee. He then moves to unbutton your pants, watching for a nod in consent.
"Please Tae," you say once he retracts his thumb from your mouth, giving a brief nod. "Been waiting all week for you to touch me."
"Shit." Taehyung makes quick work of your pant button and unfastens the zip. He then dips his fingers into your underwear to glide across your folds. "You want me to touch you here baby? Stick my fingers in you and make you come around them?" He teases, obvious that you're wetter than the Pacific Ocean; you could probably take him all right here and now if he desired.
"Yes, put them in," you beg, bucking your hips into his hand. "Please, can't wait much longer."
He smirks at your neediness and begins to sink two of his fingers into your wet pussy, just the tips. "How's this? Can you come like this? You're so wet I bet you can."
You shake your head, inches from snarling at him. "More. Need your whole finger in me to come. Baby—"
As soon as you drop the 'B' word Taehyung pushes his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. The loud gasp you let out reminds him of how far his fingers can actually reach; sometimes he forgets how long and slender they are.
His pace is steady from the start, fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your head fall back further and further in pleasure.
"Fuck," he swears and quickens his speed, curling his fingers to properly stimulate your sweet spot. "I can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing already. Come whenever you want okay?"
"Uh," you answer in a pant, sweat lining across your forehead as your body jerks back and forth.
"Mm that's it," he coos. "Can't even talk can you? That's okay, focus on how my fingers are making you feel. Good right?" He continues thrusting inside of you, loving how you've started riding his fingers in an attempt to make yourself come faster.
"F-feels amazing Tae!" You moan as the peak of your high inches closer and closer. To help get you off, Taehyung circles his thumb over your clit and latches his lips to the side of your neck.
"You wanna come?" He taunts between kisses and you reply with a breathy 'yes'. Taehyung smirks and nibbles on your ear, licking the shell of it a little until finally, you come all over his fingers.
"Such a dirty slut," he says, slipping his fingers out of you and cleaning them off. He kisses you afterward while his hands work to remove your blouse. Once he has the material pushed off your shoulders he kisses a hot trail down to your collarbone.
Taehyung reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra next but then, he feels your body suddenly tense up. It's not a good tense-up either, it's stiff and uncomfortable.
"You okay beautiful?" He stops all movements and puts his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the counter. "Did I go too far? Shit I'm sorry if I did, you can tell me."
You shake your head fervently, rejecting the idea. "No, you didn't do anything." You then glance down at yourself in your plain black underwear; nothing fancy. All at once the conversation with your coworkers floods your thoughts again and you feel silly for letting it consume you but it does, it bothers you.
"Taehyung I—" you choke on your words as you watch your boyfriend's previously playful face turn into one of worry. You glance down at your hands and chuckle, feeling bad that you just ruined the mood. "I really need your dick in me, let's just get back to it." You move to kiss him but he doesn't let you.
"Hold on a second. I know that laugh," he says, looking deep into your eyes. "Something's bothering you."
"Oh no, I was just thinking that you must be really hard right now so—" You wave your hands about but he grasps them into his, softly.
"Stop. My dick can wait. What's going on?"
You sigh and allow your shoulders to slump a little. "Its nothing, Tae."
"Which means it's absolutely something." He takes the initiative to lift you on the counter; into a seated position and you know, you're not getting out of this until you tell him what's up.
A good 30 seconds of silence pass with him patiently waiting for you to say something, anything. Taehyung's about to prod a little more until you blurt it out all at once.
"Am I sexy? I mean, we have sex but are you...satisfied? Are there fantasies you haven't told me yet? And what about lingerie? You know I haven't worn any of that so...am I boring? Is it boring to have sex with me? Because I can wear that stuff if you want...if you like it I mean."
Taehyung's mouth gapes open at you, baffled by what he's just heard. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts; the last thing he wants is to be an idiot and reply dumbly.
"I'm sorry," he starts and rubs soothing circles on your hands. "I don't know where to start. Of course, you're sexy, you're my angel. And boring? This coming from the woman who makes me hard just by looking at her?"
"Tae I know that–"
"I love you," he continues. "And I love all the things your pussy does to me. There's nothing you need to do, wear, or say for those to be true. Now who gave you the idea that you're boring? Was it me? Shit, it was me wasn't it?"
"No! It wasn't." Your fingers tighten in his hold, eyebrows raising in slight alarm. "I was out with some girls from work and they said that lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping sex spicy. They also said that sex is boring without it and that a woman should take charge in the bedroom so her partner isn't doing all the work."
"Well, that's bullshit."
"Taehyung! You're not taking this seriously."
"I am baby. I promise I am. But since when did fabric define a healthy, thriving sex life? We fuck all the time without lingerie and last I checked we both come. And you know why? Because we're made for each other and we have really great sex. I'm not one to blab about our sex life to others but if I did, everyone would be jealous. Especially of me, because I'm with a literal angel. So not to belittle your coworkers but they're a little narrow-minded."
The faintest smirk pulls at the corner of your boyfriend's lips as he slowly dances his fingers along your waist. "By the way, I would happily do all the work. I aim to please as you know. And taking charge isn't a problem for you seeing as you practically jumped me two seconds from walking into the door. Poor Tannie is scarred for life now. I think he ran into your bedroom."
"Stop," you allow a chuckle, feeling the tension lighten from his joke. "Tannie's seen a lot worse, I'm sure. He just likes my fluffy comforter. Little dog has high standards just like his daddy."
"It's true, I spoiled him too early." Taehyung's grin spreads like oil across his face and you smile as well, not as wide as his but enough that the mood picks back up. "Back to what we were talking about though. I don't want you to think that you're not giving me enough okay? Maybe for your coworkers, sex is different for them and fair enough, they have their own relationships to maintain. But, as long as you're alright with how we're doing, both in and out of the bedroom, then we're perfectly fine."
"So..." You pause to take in the drastic difference in opinion. "You don't want me to wear a sexy lace set or something? What about a ribboned bodysuit? I've seen those becoming more and more popular because they show–"
"Yes, I–I'm aware of the variety out there." He wets his lips, thumbs pressing into your delicate skin harder. "I won't lie in saying I wouldn't love seeing you in a set or two, but I think it's up to you. Because the only thing I need is for you to be comfortable, whether it's in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats or naked on this countertop. You're stunnimg to me either way because it's you in front of me and no one else."
"I love you Tae," you sigh and lean into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist to bring him near. Naturally, his crotch brushes against yours as he inches to stand between your parted legs. "Wow, you're still hard?" You snort, feeling his very obvious bulge.
Taehyung kisses the top of your head. "Yes, you'll be surprised at how long I can last with a boner."
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A week after your conversation with Taehyung and getting possibly the best fuck of your life on your kitchen island, you find yourself at the mall with your favorite pink-haired boy; Park Jimin. You and Jimin have been close since college and when you say there are no secrets between you, you mean it.
Jimin is also a fashion mogul which is why he's insisted he tag along with you on your search for new clothes. Due to the coolness of the season, you're in need of some warm fall clothing. He prefers you look for something from Dior or Chanel but you put a stop to that; your bank account doesn't have the funds to support that joy ride just yet.
"My grandma's sweater looks better." You hear your best friend sass for the twentieth time behind you. "Put it back __."
"No." You throw the hanger with the baby blue cardigan over your arm and continue browsing through the sale rack. "I happen to like this one, you snob."
The man instantly slaps a hand over his heart as if mimicking being shot. "So rude when I'm just trying to save you from a fashion disaster. If my assistance isn't needed then I might as well go over to the men's section and take a look at the new cufflinks I saw on the way in."
You give your eyes a roll and if you did it once more, they'd get stuck up there. "Fine by me, you've been gawking at them the entire time we've been here. I thought you didn't dwell with the commoners Mr. Only-Buys-Designer-Staight-From-The-Runway-Itself."
"Well, what can I say," Jimin snaps and heads for the other side of the store. "We all have faults. It just so happens that my new partner prefers these kinds of cheap renditions over classic Prada cufflinks."
"Aww poor Chim," you holler after him. "Maybe gift him a pair for Christmas to help break him in?"
"Tried that for his birthday and it was a major fail __. But it's all good because I'm saving that gift for someone else."
You freeze at the questionable choice of words. "And who's that?" you ask. Jimin whips his head over a shoulder and smiles sweetly.
"Your boyfriend. Did you forget he also loves designer?"
"Oh yeah, right. Thanks, Jimin." You hold out the baby blue cardigan, observing it once more. Maybe you shouldn't get this? Not that it matters to Taehyung what you wear either but....maybe it does look old ladyish.
"Hey," your best friend strides over to you again with a softened expression. "Everything alright between you two?"
"Everything's great, you just got me thinking of something is all. I recently had a small talk with him last night about, you know, our bedroom situation."
Though your voice is lowered Jimin understands you clearly. You confide in him a lot so of course he knows about all your personal challenges; the ins and outs of you. He's known about your hesitations towards lingerie and intimacy long before Taehyung came into the picture.
"Oh shit," he swears under his breath. "What did he say?"
You proceed to retell him the highlights of last week's conversation; how sensitive Taehyung was to you and how he told you it's up to you if you want to bring lingerie into the mix. Jimin nods along.
"So what about you then? Do you want to explore the endless realm of lacy bodysuits, transparent bras and panty sets, garters, and aisles of naughty roleplay outfits to fulfill your sexual fantasies or no?"
"Damn, no wonder that lingerie store you worked at straight out of college didn't want you to leave. Anyway, I was thinking about giving it a try but I'm still unsure. It's not that I don't want to or that Taehyung's pressuring me–I still just feel really nervous."
"Here's a thought then." Jimin hums aloud. "What if we went to an underwear store and you tried on a few things? You don't have to buy any of it or take any home to show off. It'll be an experiment of sorts."
You ponder the idea and it doesn't sound half bad. Low commitment right?
"Okay. I think there's a Victoria's Secret on the second floor."
"Oh no no," the man shakes his head as if amused by your cuteness. "We're going somewhere a little more special than that."
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"Jimin! Help please!" You holler from inside the dressing room of one the poshest boutiques you've been in. Turns out the place you've been dragged to is a high-end underwear store called Delilah's. You were beyond skeptical of the price on your way in but it wasn't horrible.
"Oh my god," Jimin rushes into the stall with you as soon as you call for him. "You look so sexy in this __. Like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped."
"The tiny silk bows on this thing barely cover my nipples." And you're not exaggerating. The set you've opted to try on first is Jimin's pick; a strappy red two-piece with matching garters, silk choker, and bows over both breasts. He says it's supposed to be like a sexy Mrs. Clause but while it's sexy for sure, it's way more revealing than how you'd prefer (at least the first time trying this kind of thing out).
"Turn around," he commands. "You're straps are a little loose."
"I don't think this one fits me Chim. This is obviously meant for a specific body type and it's not mine." You have a hard time staring at yourself in the mirror so you stare down towards the floor instead.
Jimin takes a small breath and turns your shoulders back around so you're facing him again. "This is for anyone who wants to wear it, love. Your body is beautiful and this set looks smashing on you. If it's not your style, no problem, but I won't have you getting down on yourself."
"You're starting to sound like Taehyung now." You give a nervous chuckle and rub your arm.
"If it means you listen to him then good. I'm your best friend and your biggest supporter __ so you know I'll always be honest with you. Now do we not like this because it's not to your taste or is it because you're not good enough for it?"
"Not...my taste," you slowly draw out the words. "Thanks Chim."
"You really mean that?" He straight into your eyes, knowing you have a habit of telling him only what he wants to hear sometimes. You nod.
"Yes, and I was thinking maybe we can keep the color the same but go for something a little tamer?"
"Anything for you, love."
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Well, he convinced you to buy the third set you tried on at the boutique. It's a similar shade of red as the first set; the ones with the bows on it, but covers a bit more. Both the bra and panties are strappy and made of sheer, but also have the occasional lace detailing to cover the important parts. A matching red robe made of silk was included in the purchase too.
When you got home, you shoved the set into the back of your drawer, not thinking you'd take it out any time soon.
But alas, you did.
You're now twisting in front of your bedroom mirror with it on, along with the robe which loosely hangs off your shoulder.
"Is this cute?" You ask yourself. "I look kinda different with it on. Maybe I should return it," you continue to talk to yourself in mutters until your bedroom door squeaks open. You jump at the sudden intrusion.
There, sauntering into the bedroom is your boyfriend's dog. Being Friday again, Taehyung and Tannie came over to spend the weekend with you. But while your boyfriend is busy showering in your bathroom, Tannie has decided he wants to make himself cozy on your bed.
"Hi Tan." You crouch down on your knees in front of the pup and give him a few good pat. He yips at you but doesn't move away. "Have you still not made up your mind about me yet? I know I took your daddy away from you so now you don't have him all to yourself anymore but didn't I give you extra treats this morning?"
Tannie's big eyes look up at you and then towards your bed. He then trots over to the edge where his doggie stairs are and uses them to climb up atop the bed. You stand up from your kneeled position and place your hands on your hips.
"Well, I guess you made this place your home huh?" You watch as the little dog spins three times in a circle before plopping down. "Alright, you're too cute to be fake mad at. Since you're here though, maybe you can help me."
You feel utterly stupid for what you're about to do next, yet that feeling doesn't stop you. "What do you think about this new set I got? It's my first one so I'm excited but it looks weird right?"
Tan huffs and stares at you.
"Yeah? It does, doesn't it? You know when I got this I was thinking maybe I could get into it...this whole lingerie thing. And it's sexy, no denying that, but as I told my friend Jimin. It's not meant for my bod–"
Your sentence is abruptly cut off when a pair of hands make their way around your hips. They stay atop your robe yet the burn of your boyfriend's fingers is still fiery hot.
When did he get out of the shower?
Taehyung stands behind you in a pair of silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. His bare chest presses lightly against your back and his wet hair falls messily around his face with a few strands covering his eyes. "Hi," he breathes in a husky tone, right next to your ear. It sends a whole trail of shivers up your spine. "What's not meant for your body, baby?"
In a ball of nervous energy, you move to tug the robe as closed as you can, forcing his fingers to loosen around your body. "Tae! I didn't hear you get out of the shower. I was just talking to Tannie and I-I'm gonna go get changed, now that the bathroom's free."
You'd make a beeline out your bedroom door if it weren't for the arm that snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. "Do you have to change? Because I really, really don't want you to. As always I'll let you make your own decisions though..." Evilly, he sweeps your hair all to one side to expose the nape of your neck. He then places a kiss on the sensitive area; too soft, his lips are too soft.
You bite your moan back however, don't meet his question with a response. The thought of opening your robe and showing him the number underneath makes you crazy with arousal. You just wish you didn't have the pesky whisper that tells you that there's nothing to go crazy for after you do.
You're really not trying to be so hard on yourself but can you actually do this? The set is hot, sure, but maybe it was a mistake to g– "Oh Tae, fuck." You gasp when your boyfriend latches his mouth on the side of your neck, sucking on it lewdly. It never fails to send your head backward into his firm chest. Your eyes fall shut to bask in the pleasure. "You're way too good at this," you coo.
Taehyung slowly traces down the fabric of your robe, near the opening. It's a struggle for him not to pull the thin material open. "Can I see?" It's a plead.
You wet your lips and fiddle with the material yourself. "I-I don't know."
"Let me rephrase that." He folds his palms over your fingers and spins you both around so you're able to see each other's reflection in your full-length mirror. "Do you want me to see?" His deep, lusty eyes lock with yours in the glass. Taehyung brings his chin down to your shoulder, resting it there calmly while his grip tightens around you.
He gives you as long as you need to reply.
"...yes," you finally decide, dragging your robe down and off your shoulders. Taehyung groans and kisses your bare shoulder as you cautiously show yourself to him.
"Tan." His voice calls out, more gruff than when he was speaking with you moments ago. "Living room." The little dog's ears perk up and he flees off the bed and out the room.
"Did he really have to go?"
"He's our baby. He can't witness all the nasty things I'm about to do to you. He'll make himself comfy on the couch, don't worry." Your boyfriend runs his hands up your thighs before helping you remove your robe completely. "I haven't said it yet so I'm going to do it now. You look fucking hot in this, like a lucid dream. I don't deserve this, fuck."
"Really?"
His fingers sensually trace your curves, then the thin band of your lace panties. "Yeah, really," he hums and cups your mound. "This color on you is making me insane. I can't decide if I want to take it off or savor it on your body a little longer."
"Tae—mfph!" He doesn't let you finish, preferring to turn you around so he can press his lips on yours. He moves with passion, nipping your bottom lip to sneak his tongue inside. Your moans only grow louder when his grinds his hips into you.
With a gentle pull, Taehyung leads you to the edge of your bed. "Lay down for me, on your stomach."
You do as he says and slide onto your mattress, face down. All your senses tingle at once when you feel his body hovering over you. His legs straddle you from behind as his hands cling to the sheets on either side of you.
"Tae what are you doing?" Your senses heighten, your heart thumping at the inability to see him.
"This," he answers and brings his warm lips to the small of your back. The tiny jolt of surprise doesn't stop him from continuing to kiss up your spine and all the way up between your shoulder blades. He's never kissed you like this before. Your body arches off the bed from the newness and arousal pools between your thighs.
"This feels ni-nice." The broken moan spurs your boyfriend on. He kisses you the same way again, faster. Clearly, wherever your boyfriend's lips touch you, you like it tenfold.
Once he gets back to your shoulder blades Taehyung lifts his head up and unclasps your bra. He then flips you over, gives you a quick peck, and rips the now pesky material off your body.
"I love seeing this on you and I wanted to wait it out some more but I can't do it." He cups the swell of your breasts, squeezing them together while his thumbs fondle your perky nipples. "You look so, so beautiful and I need to make love to you now or I'm going to come in my pants like a teenager." He releases your breasts and mouths at the supple flesh, tongue licking across the peaks.
"Fuck," you moan and sink your fingers into his hair. "I need you too. Please."
Your panties are off before you know it, the cool air hitting your warm pussy. Taehyung spreads your thighs wide open and tells you to keep them there until he gets his own pants and underwear off. He's seconds from putting himself into you when he pauses.
"Can't skip over this can we?" He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb and lowers his head down to your center. "Not that you really need it seeing as you're soaked down here, but I'm a creature of habit." He proceeds to lick up your folds, teasing your clit at the same time.
"Oh, oh my god Tae!" You claw his hair harder and reflexively buck your hips into his mouth, drawing a deep groan from him.
"Shit!" He raises his face from between your thighs with lips already glistening with your arousal. "Maybe I can finish eating you out after I fuck you into the mattress."
You nod your head. "Okay, yeah sure, fuck me. I'm still on the pill."
Taehyung lifts both of your legs over his shoulders and rubs the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You clench at the teasing. "You are literally going to be the end of me, baby." He thrusts himself all the way into you, bottoming out much quicker than other times.
"Fuuck," you both moan at the stretch. Taehyung's hips snap forward with vigor, his thick length being squeezed by your velvet walls with each push and pull.
"Goddamn, this pussy is too good for me. So hot and tight, shit! You're so beautiful you know that? Everything you are. That's why—it's why it hurt me so much when you asked if I thought you were sexy or boring last week."
Your nails dig into the sheets as you watch the veins protrude from his neck. His eyes, on the other hand, are laser-focused on you.
"Hurt....you?"
"Yes," he affirms, fucking into you faster with hard, controlled thrusts. "Hurt me so much because you're mine and I–fuck I'm gonna come soon!"
I never want you to question how I feel about you. And when you asked me those things, it made my head spin. Our relationship is not all about sex and I thought maybe I was making it seem like that. And now, seeing you in sexy red set gives me such a mindfuck but I don't want you to feel like it's just because of the lace."
"No, no not at all. I don't think any of that because you're perfect to me too Tae. Going out with my coworkers and having that conversation just triggered me. This is all still new to me....us."
"I know." Taehyung unexpectedly stops his movement to lower your legs from his shoulders. He then brings them around his mid-section which you gladly wrap around. "It's new to me too but we're just starting right?" Your hands are intertwined with his when he resumes his previous brutal pace.
"Right," you breathe, fingers gripping his firmer against the mattress "I'm-I'm gonna come baby. It's so close."
"Me too."
You both have your release at the same time, panting like crazy from the post-orgasmic bliss. Taehyung rides both your highs out, then pulls out of you slowly.
"Holy fuck." You're the first to speak. "That damn lingerie really did make our sex better."
"Better?" Taehyung squeaks out. "What do you mean better? Was it not as good before?"
"I'm kidding, however, I do think you were a lot more eager this time. What happened to the whole being able to last with a boner for eternity if you have to speech?"
He breaks out into a cute grin. "I guess I was bullshitting then, lesson learned. Also, even though the lingerie is hot we don't have to keep doing it...I mean if you want to–"
You shut him up with a kiss and snuggle into him. "Maybe we'll try it again. It was kinda fun. Either way, you're right, we don't need it because I love you."
"I love you more. Now how about I fulfill that promise earlier about eating you out?" He jerks back to look at you with a quirked brow.
"Taehyung....we were having a moment."
"Oh shit, sorry. We can keep snuggling, come here beautiful." He pulls you back into himself with a smile.
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a/n: Hoping you enjoyed ☺ LMK your thoughts 💞
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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aikastales · 5 months
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i’m drunk, i love you (jk)
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𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: with only a day before graduation, you make a promise that you will not only graduate from university, but also from your feelings for your best friend of seven years, jeon jungkook.
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𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: film student!jungkook x med tech student!fem!oc (named sola)
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𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: heavy angst, unrequited love, jungkook as an isko agenda, set in the ph 🇵🇭
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𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: this story is fiction. it does not represent the members of bangtan or any of the idols here in real life. all resemblance to real life characters, institutions, associations, places, events, among others are either purely coincidence or depicted in a fictitious manner only. there’s really no warnings for this story other than it’s a self-indulgent fic to get me back to writing. the smut isn’t that severe. just kissing, nipple sucking, and grinding. this is based on the film, i’m drunk i love you, which i highly recommend you watch. i didn’t alter much of the plot & scenes bc i think they’re already great as it is, but i did tweak a bit here and there. i hope you enjoy! let me know what you think by reblogging/commenting. ♡
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𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 5,784
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You were never quite the believer in love at first sight, but what you felt that night was the closest thing to that feeling. 
He was one of the freshmen performers during your orientation, singing Adam Levine’s Lost Stars. Like the entire audience, you were captivated by his heavenly vocals and charisma as he performed on stage with an acoustic guitar one of the seniors lent him. Not only that, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t bad looking either—quite the opposite, really. 
However, after the orientation, you didn’t get to see much of the dark-haired handsome boy. You were studying at UP, the biggest state university in the country, and so your paths were bound not to cross. Until, your older cousin, who was a senior at that time, invited you to eat dinner with him and a couple of his buddies after seeing you strolling around campus alone. When you arrived at the eatery, you not only saw your cousin Yoongi’s friends—Yijeong and Woosung—you also spotted the boy who hadn’t left your mind since you saw him over four months ago at that time. 
You sat across from him and you tried your best not to freak out as Yoongi introduced the both of you. Apparently, he had already known Jungkook because he was the younger stepbrother of his other friend, Namjoon. During the course of your dinner, you and Jungkook didn’t really talk much. But you would muster up the courage to ask him some basic questions such as his program, why he went to UP, if he joined any orgs yet, etcetera. Jungkook was polite enough to answer your inquiries. 
He was a Film major. He went to UP because everyone in his family went to UP so it was the most obvious choice for him and he was a member of the Film society. In return, Jungkook asked the same set of questions. You were a pre-med student, Medical Technology, to be exact, and you went to UP because it was your dream school. You were also a member of the College of Arts and Sciences’ student council. 
After your meal was finished, Yoongi entrusted your care to Jungkook as they were going to meet up with some of their friends and you were both living at campus dormitories anyway. So, you hopped into his old army green Toyota Rav4 and needless to say, the ride back to UP was awkward. So, to get rid of the awkward silence, you asked if you could play some music. He said sure and handed you the aux cord already connected to his stereo. Once you had the other end connected to your phone, you played one of your favorite songs—Waltz of Four Left Feet by Shirebound and Busking. 
To your surprise, Jungkook also knew the song and just like that, the awkward silence was gone and you became inseparable ever since. 
Music became the bridge that connected you and Jungkook. Whenever you would hangout, it was always your topic—your favorite artists, songs, original scores in films, best albums, underrated artists, overrated artists, the current state of music, everything. He also became your gig buddy—seeking out mainstream and indie artists you both liked and going to their live performances downtown bars, jam packed arenas and stadiums. 
But your favorite would always be watching him perform. After his performance at the orientation, he naturally became one of the popular students at UP. He wasn’t popular like a celebrity or an influencer, but heads would turn whenever he walked around campus. Also, he still had the luxury of privacy on his side, but if you looked at the right places, you would find small accounts on social media dedicated to him. He didn’t care for the attention, though, and just went about his day as normally as possible. 
His performance did land him some gigs here and there. You found it cute whenever he’d turn to you to ask if he should accept the invitation or not, and you would always tell him to do whatever he wanted. Most of the time, he accepted, especially if it was at Route 96, a historic venue for aspiring musicians. 
It was here that he performed the first song he wrote by himself called Still With You. It was also during this performance that you began to see him in a different light—quite literally. He was performing with the bar lights off, only the lights on stage and the spotlight illuminated the entire establishment. When the spotlight on him turned purple, you felt a whole new admiration for your best friend. It wasn’t the “Oh god I’m so proud of my best friend” kind, rather it was the “Oh fuck I’m in love with my best friend” realization. 
But like every other story where someone falls in love with their best friend, you kept your feelings hidden, hoping someday it would go away. However, you soon realized, once you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook, there was no going back. It was a rabbit hole. 
The more you spent time with him, the more you fell in love with him and all of him—from the way he smiles to the sound of his laugh, how he would always annoy the shit out of you when you were supposed to be studying to how he would remember small things about you like your favorite snack at the vending machine, how you’d be the first to know his test results to how you’d be his first audience for the short film they needed to produce for that semester, how he would lend you his jacket when you ate bingsu because he knew you’d get cold easily to how he’d send you random memes he found funny out of the blue. 
It was so easy to fall in love with Jeon Jungkook. Thus, everyone else did too. For seven years, you watched on the sidelines as he dated several girls and loved them how you wished he’d love you. 
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“In one day, you can finally lay your hands on Jungkook,” your best friend, Mingyu, teased as he took a sip from his beer. 
You let out a sarcastic laugh, head resting on your palm, elbow propped on the wooden table in front of you, a bottle of beer in the other hand. You were bordering on getting tipsy now as you had been drinking since you arrived at La Union with Mingyu and Jungkook in the afternoon. You didn’t even know why you agreed to your best friend’s idea of going to the province for a music festival when you had your graduation—the very graduation that was seven years in the making—on Sunday.   
“Fuck you, Kim Mingyu,” you told the honey-skinned man across from you with a chuckle. 
“What? Let this be your final test before finally graduating. Are you ready?” a lopsided grin appeared on his handsome face. 
Under the orange light, Kim Mingyu was easily one of the most handsome men you ever laid your eyes on. He was also tall, well-mannered, smart, capable, had a stable job while being a med student, and the textbook definition of a walking green flag. In another life, you could imagine yourself falling for him instead of Jungkook. But in the current universe you were in, he was one of your trusted friends who had known about your crush on Jungkook since first year. 
The waiter arrived to bring you your order of another bucket of Red Horse beer. Mingyu took a bottle from the silver bucket and opened it. “Happy horse for the happy whore,” he told you as he handed you the fresh bottle of beer. You gave him a middle finger. He laughed. “What? Am I not right?” 
“You’re the whore,” you replied. “I saw you with that cute chinito by the beach earlier. What happened to Mino?” 
He rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex—or you believed was his ex. You never really know with Mingyu and relationships. He was the complete opposite of you. While you were a hopeless romantic at heart, he didn’t believe in love—or so he says. 
“Seven years,” Mingyu mused, glancing towards the beach. “You didn’t stop falling in love with your best friend. Now, it looks like you don’t even plan to stop.” 
You sucked your teeth, tracing the water around the bottle due to the ice with your fingers. “Do I just throw it away?” You weren’t sure if you were asking Mingyu or yourself. “We make a good pair.” You laughed to yourself. 
“Except?” Mingyu pointed out the harsh reality. 
“Except,” you took in a shaky breath. “He doesn’t love me back. Maybe.” 
Mingyu sighed deeply, looking at his watch. “Time check: you still have your hopes up.” 
“It’s still early,” you argued. “I still have two days. Just give me time.” 
“Give me time?” Mingyu repeated, taking a sip from his beer. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sola? The universe has given you all the time. But you did nothing.” 
You groaned, throwing your head back as a realization hit you. “Fuck, Gyu, I just—I just realized. Is it right that we’re here? Was it the right decision to come here? My mom’s gonna be so mad once she finds out I’m in La Union.”  
“It’s all you. You’re a raging masochist,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway. Let’s just play a game. Let’s enumerate all the things you did with Jungkook. Those are seven years worth of memories, Sola. Game?” 
“Game.” 
“What year did you first meet Jungkook?” 
A smile immediately creeped up on your face. “2017.” 
Mingyu waved his hand at you. “Wow! You can do math! But I just thought of something—instead of just general memories. Let’s make them specific. Let’s list down all the stupid things you did for Jungkook for seven years.” 
“The fuck are you talking about?” you let out a scoff, drinking your beer. 
“What? Now you can’t remember?” he challenged. 
You clicked your tongue. “Fine, you stupid bitch. Ask away.” 
Mingyu grinned. “2018.” 
You hummed before saying, “Jungkook was heartbroken that year. I was back at home and he was at UP. But I rushed into the city to be there for him. I remember because I was supposed to attend this baptism with my parents but I snuck out and got an earful from my mother the next day. I was completely hungover too because Jungkook and I went bar hopping the entire night.” 
“Jesus Christ, Sola.” 
“Don’t judge me. It was my decision, okay?” 
Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Okay. 2019.” 
You stared at Mingyu, laughing as you recalled the memory. “2019. Me and Jungkook walked from UP to Aurora Boulevard just to tell me how Song Areum became his girlfriend.” 
He shook his head. “2020.” 
“2020—he was sick. I had an exam that day, but I quickly answered it so I could buy him his favorite, Tapsilog from Tapsi ni Vivian, before it ran out ‘cos it runs out quickly, right?” Mingyu nodded. You licked your lower lip then let out a small laugh. “But when I got to his dorm room, his roommate already told me Areum brought him to the university hospital. And I failed my exam ‘cos I didn’t answer the back part.” 
“2021, go!” 
“I loved him for four years now and counting. Is that good enough?” 
“Okay. I’ll accept it. 2022?” 
“2022—I’ve been in love with him for five fucking years already, fucking shit!” you exclaimed, feeling the alcohol in you boosting your confidence. 
“Okay. We’re in the last year, girl. What about in 2023? What was the stupid thing you did for Jungkook last year?” 
You gulped. “I’m two years delayed.” 
Mingyu exhaled deeply. A moment of silence settled between the two of you. Then, she asked, “Sola, it all boils down to this: when will you end this?” 
You sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “You mean when will I stop with my foolishness?” Mingyu nodded. You purse your lips. “Maybe when I’m done with UP. When I’m done with UP, I’ll graduate from everything—including him. Especially him.” 
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When you got back to your shared room with Jungkook and Mingyu, you were already tipsy. You almost fell face flat on the floor when you opened the door, feeling lightheaded, but luckily, your best friend was there to catch you. 
“You’re drunk, Sola,” Jungkook chuckled deeply. You could smell his expensive cologne—the one you bought for him for his birthday last year and it brought a huge grin on your face, knowing he wore it. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 
“I’m fine, Guk. I’m not that drunk. But I do need to sit down,” you said followed by a set of giggles as you let Jungkook walk you to the bed you shared with Mingyu, and then you threw yourself on it, back against the mattress, arms spread like an eagle. 
Jungkook sat down beside you. “Are you still mad at me?” 
The question seemed to sober you up instantly. The truth was—you could never stay mad at him. For anything. Sometimes, you’d think he could do the most painful and hurtful thing to you, deliberately, and you would still forgive him even if he wouldn’t apologize. 
“I wasn’t mad. I was just… I just wished you would’ve told me the real reason why you wanted to come here,” you replied softly, biting your lower lip. 
“Would you have come? If I told you I wanted to go here because my ex wanted to reconnect—would you have come?” Jungkook matched your tone, looking over his shoulder to look at you. 
Instinctively, your eyes also darted towards his. The lights in the room were dim, only the lamp, the light coming beneath the bathroom door, and the moonlight outside illuminated the room. Jungkook looked especially beautiful in the dim light—long black wavy hair all messy from his habit of running his fingers through it, hooded eyes staring at you like he was memorizing every inch of you, the gentleness of his features made him look like an angel in this light. 
But then you’d see his dozens of piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and lower lip; his tattooed arm and hand, and the way he looked sexy as hell with his thin white long sleeved, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and his white beach shorts that hugged his strong muscular thighs, and you’d realize he was more of a Greek god than an angel. 
“I’ll go wherever you go,” you told him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You know that.” 
Jungkook lied down beside you and you felt your heartbeat racing. His tattooed arm was brushing against yours. His head was tilted, close to yours. 
“Will you go with me to the moon?” he asked. 
A small smile ghosted on your lips. “I will, Guk.” 
“How about Saturn?” 
“I’ll be with you there, too.” 
“Law school?” 
You turned your head to him. He was already looking at you. “Law school? Why?” 
He brushed the hair on your face aside with his fingers, making you tense. But you kept your composure. “I passed UP LAE.” 
“But,” you began. “What about film? I thought you didn’t wanna become a lawyer like your parents.” 
Jungkook looked at the ceiling. “It’s not that bad. Being a lawyer. Besides, I like studying.” 
“You’ve always wanted to become a director, though.” 
“I’m not good enough for it,” Jungkook scoffed. “All my batchmates are already directing their films and showing them at festivals here and abroad—yet here I am. Still here.” 
You turned on your side, propping your elbow to support your head as you looked at your best friend. It was rare for Jungkook to open up. Even to you. He was always someone who kept all his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself. In the seven years you’d known him, it still felt like there was a wall around him that you never managed to climb on or punch through. For seven years, it felt like you simultaneously knew everything and nothing about your best friend. 
“It’s not the end of the road, Jungkook. So what if they’re showing their films at festivals? You can do it too. At your own pace, in your own time,” you said. You wanted to reach for his face, to make him look at you, but you were scared. “You’re a great filmmaker, Guk. The best direk ever.” 
He looked at you once again. “You’re drunk, Yu Sola. Go to sleep.” 
He sat up, carrying your legs over the bed. You let out a groan. “I’m not drunk, Jeon Jungkook. Why do you always do that?” 
“Do what?” he asked, chuckling. 
“You always cut the conversation when you’re beginning to open up. You always clamp up, Guk. I wish you didn’t do that. I’m your—,” you bit the inside of your lower lip. What right did I have to demand him to open up to me? “I’m your best friend.” 
“I don’t clamp up. I just have nothing else to say,” your best friend replied with a shrug, fixing his hair as he looked in the mirror across from your bed. “Go to sleep. You’ll get a massive headache tomorrow. I’m just going to meet with Areum and her friends.”  
Then, you blurted it out. It just happened. You didn’t even know how. You always had this grand idea in your mind to do it after the graduation ceremony, that way, you could immediately leave. That way, you didn’t have to see him all the time. You would have enough time to move on and move forward in your life. 
But nothing in life truly went according to plan. 
“I love you, Jungkook,” you confessed. Your heart felt heavy and you sat up, head hanging low as you picked on your nails. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes. “I’ve loved you for seven years now.” 
And you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. Then, moments later, you felt your hands being taken away from your face. You lifted your head and saw Jungkook kneeling in front of you, holding your hands. He let one go to wipe away the tears on your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear. 
And then, ever so slowly, Jungkook leaned in and kissed you softly. A tear rolled down your cheek. His lips were soft while yours were chapped and wet from your tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were still in shock. This was not the response you expected. Not even in your wildest dreams but it was happening. 
Jungkook held your face, tilting his head as he continued to kiss you more—only this time with more need and passion. Your body reacted. You began to reciprocate his kisses, hands wrapping around his wrists. He tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash. 
He pushed you onto the bed, one hand remaining on your face while the other held your waist. Your fingers curled the ends of his hair. You could feel his growing member on your stomach and feeling it was enough to make your cunt wet. His lips then traveled on your jaw, down to your neck. You were breathing heavily as he nibbled on your sensitive skin, making a soft moan escape your lips. 
His hand made its way under your shirt and your breath hitched, causing Jungkook to lift his head from your neck, and look you in the eyes. 
“You okay?” he asked softly. 
You nodded. “I’m okay.” 
“Okay,” he smiled, making your heart skip a beat. “Is it okay if I take this off now?” 
“I—,” you were at a loss for words. Was this really happening? It seemed too good to be true. But it was happening and you wanted it more than anything else. “Okay. Yes, you can.” 
Jungkook peeled your shirt off, exposing your naked chest. You didn’t wear bras; found it too much of a hassle and you always hated the feeling. Instead, you wore nipple tapes. 
“What are these, Sola?” Jungkook asked with a chuckle, making your cheeks heat up. 
“They’re nipple tapes, you dumb ass,” you replied, smacking his arm lightly. 
“Okay. Do I just take them off, like, tape?” 
He was adorably cute. “Yes, you just take them off like tape.” 
And so he did just that. The coolness of the room and your arousal instantly perked your nipples. Jungkook took your breasts in his hands, massaging and squeezing them, making you arch your back ever so slightly. Then, he dipped his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth while remaining to massage the other. 
The sensation was simply divine. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system, your feelings for your best friend, or just Jungkook in general that made you feel so good at that moment. Your hands traced the outline of his toned biceps through his thin polo. 
You were so wet and when Jungkook began to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt, you felt another wave of wetness. You wanted him—all of him—and so you began to rock your hips against him, making him release a moan. 
He lifted his head, staring at you with those doe eyes you have loved for seven years. “Are you sure?” 
Those three words held so much. Once you crossed the line, there was no going back, and both of you knew that. 
“I’m sure. I want this, Guk. I want you.” 
That was all he needed to hear to make love to you the whole night. Once both of you came, Jungkook laid beside you, chest heaving. For a while, the both of you lay in silence. 
“Will you be here in the morning?” you asked, turning your head on the pillow to face him. 
He did the same. “I will,” he promised. “Go to sleep now, Sola.” 
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But he wasn’t. 
When you woke up the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. You sat up, burying your face in your hands. What the hell have I done? What the hell have we done? 
You left the bed, entering the bathroom, and proceeding to take a shower. In there, you cried, because nothing was going to be the same after last night. You couldn’t blame it all on Jungkook either. You also made it happen. You desperately wished it was just a dream—another wet dream you had of your best friend—but the traces of his cum were still on your inner thigh. 
It happened. There was no going back. Everything was going to be different now and most of all, you didn’t know if you still had your best friend. 
When you finished showering and getting dressed, you made your way down to the beach. You had texted Mingyu while getting dressed and he told you he was there with the chinito you saw him with, Wonwoo. Arriving at the beach, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, about to text the honey-skinned med student when you saw Jungkook with Areum in the water, his strong arms that held you throughout the night, now wrapped around her waist. Fits of giggles escaped her lips as Jungkook wrestled with her in the water, a huge grin on his handsome face. 
Your heart shattered. 
You quickly looked away, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes. As you were about to turn away, you heard Mingyu’s familiar voice which caused you to stop on your tracks. 
“Sola, hey, there you—what’s wrong?” The concern in his voice was palpable. You felt his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. 
“I—I finally told him, Gyu,” you said, taking in a sharp shaky breath. “I finally told him.” 
Mingyu didn’t ask for more details. He knew. He led you back to your room, promising Wonwoo to text him later. Once you were back, you just cried on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything and neither did you. He just let you be until the tears finally stopped. 
“I’m sorry I pulled you away from Wonwoo. He seems like a nice guy,” you said after a while, voice raspy from all the crying. 
“It’s fine. We’ll be seeing each other often anyway,” Mingyu shared. 
You looked at him, surprised. “Really?” 
Your friend nodded, laughing to himself. “You know, all those times I teased you about your being a hopeless romantic and believing in love—I think it’s backfiring on me now with Wonwoo.” 
“You love him?” you asked. 
“I don’t know, Sola. But I know what I feel for him is different,” he answered. “It’s terrifying. How quickly someone can change your perspective on something.” 
You couldn’t argue with that. 
“What’s your plan now?” Mingyu asked. 
You sighed deeply. “I think I’m going to head back. My graduation is tomorrow anyway. Do you mind booking the bus ride home?” 
“I’m staying here, Sola. I—I want to be with Wonwoo more,” Mingyu confessed, smiling at you apologetically. 
“Gyu…” 
“Please be a friend to me now, Sola.” 
You pressed your lips tightly. Then, you nodded. You wanted your friend to be happy. 
“I’m gonna pack now,” you announced. 
“Okay. Just text me if you need anything,” Mingyu gave you a hug and kiss on top of your head. “I want you to know I’m proud of you, Sola.” 
Once Mingyu left, you began to pack. You didn’t bring a lot of clothes, but you were still biding your time. A part of you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here and never graduate. But that illusion was quickly broken when you saw your mom’s contact flashing on your phone screen. 
You sucked your teeth before answering, “Hi mom.” 
“Sola? Where the hell are you? Why haven’t you been answering my texts? Your graduation is tomorrow. Everyone is looking forward to it!” she exclaimed frantically. 
“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m in La Union with Jungkook and—,” 
“What the hell are you doing in La Union?! You better get back instantly, Sola. I’m not kidding. If you don’t graduate now, I really don’t know what I’m gonna do. It’s been seven years! Please let me graduate too.” 
“I’m already packing and I’ll catch the bus home soon. I just—Mom, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it in time for the ceremony ‘cos—,” 
Your phone was suddenly snatched from your grip. You looked up and saw Jungkook standing beside you. 
“Hey tita, it’s Jungkook. Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll take her home. She’ll make it in time. Yes. We’ll be home before the ceremony, tita. Okay. Bye.” 
He ended the call and sat down on the bed across from you, handing you your phone back. You grabbed it from him. “You don’t have to take me home.” 
“I already promised tita I will,” he answered. 
“You didn’t have to,” you muttered, folding your shirt. 
Silence. Jungkook was just staring at you the entire time as you folded your clothes and packed them inside your bag. Then, he said those two words. 
“I’m sorry.” 
You bit the inside of your lower lip. What was he exactly for? For having sex with you? For spending the night with you? For not feeling the same way as you? All of the above? 
As if reading your thoughts, he added, “For everything.” 
You nodded. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” you told him. “It’s not your fault you don’t love me the same way.” But why did you kiss me? Why did you make love to me? 
Jungkook lowered his head. You zipped your bag. “Let’s go. I still have a graduation to chase.” 
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“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed when you saw Areum standing beside Jungkook’s car with her luggage and bag. 
“I’ll drop Areum on the way,” Jungkook announced, grabbing her luggage and putting it at the back of his car. 
You pressed your lips in a line. “Fine.” You stepped into the back passenger seat, quickly grabbing your phone and earphones from your bag, and plugging it in. 
Lowering yourself on the seat, you rested your head against the window as Areum stepped into the passenger seat while Jungkook sat on the driver’s seat. You caught him glancing at you from the corner of your eyes, but you didn’t look back. Instead, you turned the volume up. Moments later, he began to drive. 
You decided to sleep the entire ride. However, when you woke up, you immediately realized Jungkook wasn’t driving in your hometown. “Where are we?” you asked, taking one of your earphones off. 
“I’m dropping Areum first,” Jungkook replied. 
You frowned. “I’m the one chasing a graduation, remember?” 
“Shh, just go back to sleep. Here,” he threw something at you—your favorite candy, Butterball, landing on your lap. 
You grabbed it, tempted to eat it, but you threw it back at him and went back to sleep. By the time you woke up again, you were at Areum’s house. She turned to look at you, smiling. 
She was really beautiful and kind. You began to feel guilty for hating her so much the entire time. “Congrats on your graduation, Sola. I’ll see you around, okay?” 
“Thanks Areum.” 
After Jungkook walked her to her door, he came back to the car. “What are you doing there? Come here,” he said, patting the passenger seat. 
“I’m fine here,” you replied. 
“Sola, come on. Please? I drive better with you beside me.” 
For the rest of the ride to your home, you sat beside Jungkook. Unlike before, where your car rides were filled with music and random conversations, tonight it was silent. You didn’t plug your phone into his stereo and you kept your eyes closed the whole time, listening to your music. Once in a while, Jungkook would try to make small talk, but you would only give him short replies, then went back to sleeping. 
When you arrived at your family house, you stayed with Jungkook outside for a bit, both leaning against his car. 
“It’s your graduation in four hours.” 
“Are you not going to come to yours?” 
“I don’t see the point,” Jungkook replied. 
You nodded and pushed yourself off his car. “I’ll head inside. Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.” 
He grabbed your arm before you entered the gate. You stared into his eyes. You couldn’t quite place what held them right now. Maybe you never really knew Jeon Jungkook after all this time. 
“I’m sorry, Sola.” 
“Why do you keep saying sorry? I told you—it’s not your fault and I’m fine. I’m over it now. See you around, Jungkook.” 
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You head back inside. Graduation was in four hours. 
You wore a traditional Filipiniana dress, a pair of white heels that were already scraping the skin at the back of your feet, your mother’s pearls, and your sablay when your name was called. You came up on the stage with your excited mother, shook hands with your Dean, and finally grabbed your diploma. You always imagined graduation to be something so spectacular, but the moment you received the piece of paper that confirmed you had, indeed, graduated—you just felt the same. 
After the ceremony, you went back to your house where almost all your relatives from your mother’s side were waiting for you. A tarpaulin with your graduation picture and the words, “Congratulations Yu Sola!” printed on it and hung outside your gate. You greeted everyone on your way, telling them thanks, before retreating in your room to change out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. 
While you were slipping on your shirt, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. When you grabbed it, you saw Jungkook’s message on the lockscreen. 
Let’s go, it said. 
You knew it meant one thing: a beer and butterball at Route 96. There was still a part of you that wanted to go because you always went when you received a message like that from Jungkook. It was always a yes when it came to him. But now that you confessed, something shifted, whether he admitted to it himself or not. 
So, you put your phone in your pocket, and went down. But as you do so, you felt your phone vibrate again. You pulled it out of your pocket and Jungkook texted you another message. 
Please? One for the road. I’m outside. 
You bit your lower lip. Then, you made your way out. There, you saw Jungkook wearing his barong and sablay, leaning against his car like hours ago. He smiled as soon as he saw you come out. 
“You still have it,” he pointed to your shirt. 
You looked down on it and realized you had picked his shirt of all things. It wasn’t anything special; just something he bought at a boutique. But it meant a lot to you because he gave it to you after you spilled beer on your shirt years ago. 
“You attended your ceremony?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He nodded. “I thought you didn’t see the point.” 
“I changed my mind.” 
You wished you were just as quick in having a change of heart. 
“One for the road?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 
You took a deep breath and nodded. “One for the road.” 
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“Shit, I forgot it’s Sunday. It’s closed,” Jungkook sighed, seeing the steel gate at Route 96. 
“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you told him, grabbing the beer he bought beforehand and making your way up to the bar. Jungkook followed behind. 
You both leaned in the railing before you, beer in hands. Another silence. 
You couldn’t believe this was the culmination of the seven years you spent loving Jeon Jungkook. You thought, after confessing, you would never speak again. He’d distance himself from you but here you were—having a beer with him at your favorite place in the world. You wished you knew what was going on in his mind right now. You wished you could dissect his mind and learn every thought he had ever since you confessed. 
Because you never really knew Jeon Jungkook. You were just so in love with him and idealized who he was over the last seven years. Suddenly, all the stupid memories you shared with Mingyu flashed in your mind and made you laugh. 
“What’s funny?” Jungkook asked, chuckling. 
You shook your head, drinking your beer. “Nothing.” 
He nudged your side. “Come on, share it.” 
You took a deep breath and for the first time, you looked at Jeon Jungkook and saw him for who he was; not the man you have loved for the past seven years. 
“I graduated, finally.” 
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↪˚ author’s note: if you want to donate to me via kofi or gcash <33 i would appreciate it a lot. thank you & see you in more fics later on.
↪˚ permanent taglist: @whoa-jo @kookieandjoonberries
all rights reserved. 2024. belovedguk.
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lucimaaie · 4 days
Text
big deal ✧.* tlou
pairing - Ellie Williams x fem!reader, ellie williams x miller!reader
summary - you and ellie fight over your jealousness.
warning - short, not proofread bc what is that, lil angst to fluff, possibly occ ellie idk
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jealousy was something ellie knew all to well. though she wasn’t exactly ready to deal with it in you. she didn’t entertain any other girl (not on purpose) and left you very mushy (to be kept private for that very reason, notes when she was gone with joel and tommy. and yet, you were jealous.
“i’m serious. i don’t see how she was flirting,” ellie walked along side you, ahead of joel and tommy who had been tuning in and out of the argument.
“really? she did the arm squeeze, el. i did that before we got together, remember?” you walked at a pace faster than anyone else, the embarrassment of having to explain your thought process making you want to run away just for a moment. yes, you were jealous of some girl you barely knew and yes you were having this conversation in front of your dad and uncle. it wasn’t something to be particularly proud of
“the arm squeeze?” ellie looked at you incredulously as she walked to keep up with you. “the arm squeeze.” she repeated.
“yes!” you stressed.
“the fuck is that?”
“it’s basic psychology, ellie. the arm squeeze means she likes you. did you not know that when i—“
“does it matter? i like you, not her.”
“i know that.”
“then i don’t get why this is such a big deal, i’m dating you!” though her words rang true something in them didn’t agree with you. maybe it was the just the heat getting to you and not envy. maybe, but it didn’t matter the reason because your feet took you elsewhere as soon as you got to an old abandoned outlet.
you walked around the open space, kicking rocks of debris around as you looked at the broken in and looted stores. some caught your interest and you ventured into them despite joel’s warning to not go too far. you hadn’t even noticed ellie creeping behind you as you flipped through old ripped magazines. “ellie!” you screamed, covering your mouth.
she looked equally as shocked as you as you waited for sounds of clickers, runners, or any monster in the shadows. when the coast was clear, ellie smiled sheepishly and leaned against the counter you sat on. “so..jealous.” she tapped the counter, looking up at you.
“i..don’t want to talk about it, el. you’re right. it doesn’t matter.” you flipped through the magazine as opposed to looking at her. the image of carefree teens looking back at you made you frown. ellie grabbed the paper from your hand and set it on the counter.
“you did an hour ago.” she said with seriousness this time.
“that was an hour ago. it’s not a big deal, like you said.”
ellie shut her eyes as you threw her words back at her. she knew deserved it to some capacity. “it’s not nothing. okay, maybe she was flirting, but i didn’t flirt back, i swear.”
“you don’t have to—“
“yes, i do because you’ll just keep talking about it until i get you to believe me.” she sat down next to you on the counter, her hand coming down over yours. her eyes flicked from your hands to your face.
“i believe you, el.”
“so, then why’re you still mad at me?”
“i’m not. not really. i mean, i was. it’s stupid. i don’t get jealous about anything but—“
“me?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. you could tell the way she held back a smile, even if the mood was serious.
“no, cupcakes. yes you!”
“alright, alright. i’m just clarifying.” she held up her hands in peace. “you only get jealous about me? actually?”
“yeah. and it does not feel good being the jealous girlfriend. at all. i just started an argument with you over an arm squeeze.”
“you did.” she laughed lightly as she knocked her shoulder into yours.
“my theory is still valid.”
“bullshit. i smell bullshit.” she sung. “i get jealous when it comes to you too. i just..don’t say anything.”
“and i turn it into an argument.”
“both equally as shitty.”
“not a competition.”
“like hell it is.”
the light of flashlight flicked on and off and your direction. the sight made you and ellie squint your eyes before you recognized it was joel’s signal in a place like this. “c’mon. gotta get back before the oldies get grumpy.” ellie hopped off the counter and reached for your hand. you did the same and intertwined your fingers with hers.
“e?” you said as you two walked out of the store and into the empty space. she hummed. “if..when you get jealous. could you tell me?”
she looked at from the ground to you. she seemed to consider it for a moment before gnawing on her lip. “you’d get annoyed with me.”
“did i not just piss you off fighting with you?”
“eh.”
“i’m saying annoy me, piss me off back. i’m your girlfriend, i can handle that.” you shrugged as you spoke the words despite your feelings underneath the facade. the whole girlfriend thing was new to the both of you, who known each other for years at this point. you knew the most about each other than anyone else. neither one of you want to be the one to mess it up.
“i’ll hold you to that.” ellie said quietly. your words seemed to give her an unexpected confidence boost enough to pull you closer to her and press a gentle kiss onto your lips. her own were but a bit cracked but that didn't matter as her came to cup your face. she pulled back, eyes soft with affection and hint of anxiety for your reaction. this wasn't your first time kissing each other, she didn't know why she was desperate for- "mph!" she hummed against your lips as you kissed her again. this time still sweet, but not so gentle.
“are yall kissing?” tommy yelled.
you and ellie quickly dispersed, pretending to be enamored with the broken displays of the stores. it wasn't surprising that neither Tommy or Joel bought it. Joel simply waved you two over, glaring as you walked ahead of him, hand-in hand. the air of awkwardness barely lasted a minute before you and ellie burst out laughing, only to be shushed by a grumbling, mildly mortified Joel. "to be continued." Ellie mumbled into your ear.
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thank you for reading!
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iluvloganhowlett · 2 months
Text
I HATE YOU .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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in which logan leaves for a mission unexpectedly for almost a year and still expects to be welcomed home upon return
warnings: angst, no happy ending (oops!), a little violence, mutant!reader, that’s it fr
reader has same powers as logan bc they were both experiments at the same time
i also switched up the timeline slightly so pretend logan isn’t a grumpy old man and is more so how he was in x-men (2000)
part 2
“why are we here again?” wade questioned, stuffing a handful of cheetos he stole from a vending machine a while back.
logan only glared at him, “because. i left her for 9 months, the least i can do is come home and show her that im alive.”
wade shrugs, “who even is this ‘she?’ is she hot?”
in seconds, wade finds himself pinned against the wall of the hallway, logan’s claws only centimeters from his neck. “she’s my girl, you don’t get to talk about her being hot,” logan growls, retracting his claws and releasing wade.
“well damn wolvie! don’t get your panties in a bunch, im not stealing your girl! unless the charm is just too much for her then-“
“do you ever stop fucking talking outta your ass?”
wade only sighed, halting to a stop as logan did the same. “137,” logan muttered, looking up at the 137 sitting next to your door.
as logan rose his hand to knock, the door was swung open. logan’s eyes widened. he thought he’d gotten himself back into the right headspace to see you again, clearly he’d been mistaken.
the way your low-set brows rose up at the corners in anger, your long lashes drawing his eyes straight to your deep brown ones. your plush lips curled in slightly and your hair flowed down your back smoother than water.
wade whistled, “hey hot stuff-“ before he was cut of with a punch to the nose, dragging him down to the floor.
logan still had yet to say anything, admiring all the parts of you he’d missed.
however he was cut off with a groan, looking down at your claws that had made their way through his abdomen and back out, retracing back into your forearms.
“what the hell are you doing back here? and who’s the red sex-toy lookin’ thing that i j punched?”
as much as logan wanted to laugh at your dig at wade, he knew how to read the room. and frankly, he was still to stunned. “y/n? baby?”
“don’t call me that,” logan’s eyes widened, “you don’t get to call me that after disappearing for 9 months without notice, lo!”
logan couldn’t help but admire your use of his nickname you created even though you’re pissed at him.
“listen. i know, okay? i know and im sorry but if you let me in,” logan stepped closer, “i can expl- ah fuck!”
you’d stabbed him again in the same spot, pushing his body against the hall with your claws. “no you listen to me, logan. and you listen to me good. i’m not letting you come into my- our house after going awol for fucking forever and coming back with some random gay in a red suit,” you pulled your claws out of him but didn’t put them away this time.
your face softens, eyes moving rapidly between logan’s. he knew you better than anyone, he could see the way your eyes shifted from angry to vulnerable and the way your eyebrows lifted; you were a mini him, despite you being the same age.
“i thought you died, lo. i spent the past months thinking the only person i had and loved was fucking dead,” your eyes welled up as you backed away from logan, putting your claws away alas.
“i’m sorry, doll. im so sorry you have no idea,” logan’s calloused hands grazed your forearms, thumbs tracing the spot where your claws rested.
you sighed, holding back the urge to give in and hold onto him as long as you could.
“but you dont understand-“ you looked away, only for logan to lift a hand and cup your face in it, forcing your glossy eyes to meet his.
“you’re right, james! i don’t understand! so jesus fucking christ enlighten me.”
logan was taken back at your use of his real name, lip parting slightly. his heart ached more and more every time he watched your bottom lip quiver. he knew you were trying to keep up your strong facade, but were beginning to fail.
“i had a mission to go on. i had to save the world, baby!” your brows curled back into anger, and logan knew you thought he was bullshitting. “cmon, angel, stay with me. the asshat over there in the red, he dragged me into this. so if you’re gonna kill anyone for this, have it be him. i just- i need you to let me in.”
you shook your head. “lo- just-“ you stuttered, scavenging for words. “but why didn’t you say anything? you couldn’t have called? sent a letter? hell, baby i would’ve been happy with a fucking pigeon!”
“i didn’t have access to that shit.”
“for 9 months?”
he took a deep sigh, “yes, for nine months.” his tone grew louder. “because if i hadn’t left you for those 9 months there would be no more you for me to come back home to!”
“get out of my damn building, logan.”
“what?”
“leave! i want you and that goddamn red thing to get as far away from me as you fucking can and stay there.”
“y/n-“
“bye logan!”
you slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing there in utter disbelief.
logan’s claws retracted, “FUCK!” he screamed through the hall, leaving a giant claw park across your door.
he looked down at wade, who was watching from a safe distance on the floor. he put his claws away, grabbing wade by the fabric of his suit and dragging him onto his feet.
“get up, you heard the girl; let’s get the fuck away from her.”
logan was breathing heavy, more than ever before. it was like his heart couldn’t catch up to everything he was feeling in the moment. the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was walking out of your apartment building and leaving you, but he was weighed down by so much anger and hurt that he wasn’t exactly in control of himself at the moment.
“well,” wade started, “you handled that well.”
and before he knew it, wade was stabbed into a wall. “ow?”
logan growled, “i’m coming back for her.”
wade only let out a long laugh, stopping logan in his tracks.
“what the fuck are you laughing at? you should’ve heard the joke she made about you! she said you look like a sex toy-“
“i’m not laughing at that, you ape. i’m laughing at the fact that you’re coming back to her! look how it turned out the last time you ‘came back.’ “
“you don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. i’m coming back, whether she likes it or not. i’m not losing the love of my life after all i did to make sure i wouldn’t lose her.”
“i-“ “and next time im here, you won’t be.”
so! should i make a part 2 WITH a happy ending when he does come back??? 🫣🫣
♯ taglist! ∿
@spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @velvrei
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
Note
Could I request GN! Reader who is married to Spencer, and they have like a little bet that Spencer cant go a week without coffee? Mostly fluff, but maybe a lil angst bc Spencer gets sick going thru caffeine withdrawls? :D
running on empty | S.R.
spencer makes a bet to give up coffee for a week but ends up foregoing all caffeine
who? spencer reid x gn!reader category: fluff content warnings: caffeine withdrawal, spencer getting snippy, husband!spencer, teasing from the team word count: 871 a/n: a silly little one-shot for you my darling. part of me feels criminal making spencer go through any kind of withdrawal lmao. i hope you like this!!
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“He hasn’t been sleeping well,” you answered Derek’s question, looking over to where your husband was staring blankly at the files on his desk. For the past few weeks, Spencer’s nightly tossing and turning had increased tenfold.
Morgan chuckled from across the bullpen, “Maybe it’s all that coffee he’s been drinking.”
The suggestion likely wasn’t that far off, the heaps of sugar Spencer put in his coffee probably didn’t help his sleep schedule either
Putting her two cents in, Emily snorted, “Oh, come on. I’d challenge you to find a member of the BAU who doesn’t have some sort of caffeine dependency.”
Again, she probably had a point. There were at least two members of the BAU who wouldn’t entertain any conversation until they were at least halfway through their first cup of coffee. Spencer’s head snapped up, “I can go without coffee.”
You scoffed, “No, love, and that’s okay.”
“I can go without coffee, Y/N,” he told you seriously, “I’ll go a week without coffee.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, “Okay, a week without coffee.”
“What does he get in return for going a week without coffee?” Morgan teased, waggling his brows in your direction.
Whipping your head around, you narrowed your gaze at your co-worker, “It’s a secret guarded by the sanctity of our marriage, Derek,” you said pointedly.
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Emily had made an excellent point, there was a certain understanding among the Behavioral Analysis Unit that everyone was entirely dependent on caffeine. The issue was that Spencer had cut out all caffeine instead of just coffee.
The first night, he had fallen asleep rather quickly but had been a pain when you had to drag him out of bed in the morning. The second night, he was perfectly fine, but ever since he woke up this morning, he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Figuratively, of course. You had been the one to wake up on his side of the bed this morning.
You leaned against the kitchen counter with your coffee in hand, watching Spencer struggle to pay attention to the words in his book. “What about just a small cup?” You offered, opening one of the cabinets to find a daintier mug for him.
He cleared his throat before snapping his book shut and sliding it into his bag, “Nope, are you ready to go?” He asked, checking his watch to make sure you’d be able to catch the metro this morning.
Sighing despondently, you nodded, drinking the remainder of your coffee in one gulp before setting the mug in the dishwasher, “Yeah, just let me brush my teeth.”
In response, Spencer huffed, “Well, hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”
“Why are the Reid’s looking so put out this morning?” Derek asked when you arrived, holding a travel coffee thermos in his hand while raising his eyebrows curiously.
Shaking your head, you looked at the rest of the team holding their go-bags, the last place you wanted Spencer to be was in the realm of a stressed-out police chief, but the two of you grabbed your things and followed the team out.
Furrowing her brows, JJ eyed Spencer suspiciously, “You alright, Reid?”
“I’m fine,” he said, tapping his foot while you all waited for the elevator doors to close.
Discreetly, you moved your elbow and nudged him, trying to tell him to cool it without reprimanding him in the company of your team.
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Groaning, Spencer continued to flip through the filed in front of him, his caffeine withdrawal making it difficult for him to focus on anything pertaining to the case for more than a few minutes.
With the locals out of the room, you gently set a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Hey, why don’t we take a break?”
“Leave me alone.” Spencer snapped, garnering the attention of everyone else in the conference room. A lead on the case had left you with Emily, Derek, and Rossi, the latter of whom sped out of the door so quickly you were surprised there wasn’t a puff of smoke in his wake.
Your lips parted, just as surprised as the rest of the team that Spencer had chosen to lash out at you of all people. Setting your jaw, you spun on your heels and marched down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of tea. Begrudgingly, you dropped the tea bag in a mug and grabbed a paper towel for him to set it on once the tea was steeped.
Back in the roundtable room, you set the tea in front of him, “I’m not drinking coffee this week,” he said.
“I know,” you sniped, “That’s why you’ve been acting so impertinent for the last two days.” In your periphery, you saw Morgan and Emily slowly backing out of the roundtable room, wanting to avoid any sort of marital blowout. “Drink the tea, wingnut,” you told him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
His eyes flickered to the mug, obviously noting the tea bag string hanging from the side of the mug. “Wingnut?” He repeated quizzically.
Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, “I call it like I see it.”
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dearsnow · 3 months
Text
TOO SWEET
- you discover that you mix a little too much sugar into your relationship, and jake seems to believe that he’ll turn everything sour. (jake seresin x fem!reader, angst, jake being an asshole when he thinks he’s making the right decision but what’s new, i had a real fun time writing the description ⚠️ drinking)
PART 2
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word count: 785
a/n - angst city is back !! and yes there are parallels bc i’m in a parallel mood so yeah some lines are very very similar to each other. hope you guys enjoy, even though my first hangman-centric fic is a sad one lol. based on “too sweet” by hozier <3
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You press your palm to Jake’s face, feeling his stubble rough against your soft skin. “You’re amazing.”
He has a pool stick in his hand, one that he sets down to pull away from your touch. Your face flushes as he takes your hand in his own and places his pool stick in your other, motioning for you to take a shot. “You’re too sweet, darlin’. Let’s prove to Chicken over here that you can be tough, too.”
“Too sweet” is something he’s called you more than once. You suppose it is true, with your gentle and kind demeanor. You just can’t help wanting everyone to be happy.
Jake Seresin is pretty much the opposite of that. He intentionally upsets people with a smile on his face, content in riling them up, and fond of perpetuating rivalries. No one ever understands why you’re attracted to him, especially not the other daggers.
You see the side of him that he rarely ever shows. The one that’s kind and caring, that understands when he goes too far and reels his aggressive personality back to shore. When he kisses you on the cheek or places his hand on the small of your back, you feel it too.
So, when he pulls you to the side of the Hard Deck, you assume he’s just going to give you another drawling compliment and skirt his hand between your shirt and the soft skin of your waist. You certainly don’t expect the words that come out of his mouth next.
“Hun, I think we need to stop seeing each other.”
Your heart stops dead in its tracks. “What?” You borderline squeak. No, this can’t be happening. Everything was so perfect just moments ago, and now the look on his face makes you want to cry. It’s laden with sympathy.
He holds your hands with gentle fingers. “You’re too sweet, baby. I don’t mean it in a bad way, but I mean, you’re way sweeter than I could ever be. You tell Rooster his shirt looks nice when it’s eye-bleeding and you mean it. I love that, I really do, but we don’t fit. We don’t make sense, and I want my relationships to make sense.”
“We do make sense.” You protest. “Opposites attract or something like that. We can make it work.”
“The thing is, we can’t. I’m gonna piss you off eventually, and you’re gonna forgive me, and it’ll just be toxic. I don’t want that for you.”
He lets go of your hands, and as the cool air hits them, they miss his warmth. His green eyes are tinged with something you could associate with sadness, just a hint of aching regret. His mouth twitches a bit, curling into his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely, if you hadn’t kissed along that same line a few nights ago. “And what about what I want, Jake? I want you. We can have a good relationship, I promise, we’ll find a way.”
“That’s what makes you so special. Your goddamn unwavering hope. I don’t want to crush that, sweet thing, but you have to know that it isn’t always going to work out.” His tone is softer now, but his words hit like the sharp end of a knife. You stare up at him, eyes watering.
“But-“
“It’s a no, baby. Just no.”
He turns, and for the first time, you don’t follow his movements. Your fists close around empty air.
It’s really happening. He’s explained how he doesn’t want you in a million honey-suckled ways, and more than anything, you just want to sink into his arms and cry. But you can’t, and you don’t. You move away, instead, out of the Hard Deck and out of his life, into the cold night air. When you reach your car, all you can do is sob into the shiny metal.
Jake watches you leave. He wants to run after you, to thread his fingers around yours and pull you into a kiss, but he can’t, and he doesn’t. It’s better for you, he tells himself. You sip on wine and fruity drinks while his neat whiskey is sitting on the bar, half-drunk. You deserve someone nicer, kinder, who kisses you goodbye and doesn’t scratch your face with stubble. He sees you lean against your car, forehead pressed to the car door, and he almost folds. He picks up his drink and turns to face Penny, who’s looking at him disapprovingly.
“I’m not good for her.” He tries to explain.
Penny sighs and reaches for the whiskey, topping off his glass. “You aren’t. I just wish you made it your problem instead of hers.”
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Taglist: @seitmai
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
Hi luv, can I request something?
I was thinking about a poly!wolfstar x fem!reader where reader is feeling down because of her period but don’t wanna tell the boys bc she’s embarrassed. But she ends up acting all sad and the boys are really worried, thinking they did something wrong, and when they finally find out the truth they try to comfort her? A little angst with fluff ending, lots of cuddles. Only if you feel comfortable writing it, of course!
I love your writing, btw
Thanks for requesting lovely!
cw: period sadness
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 971 words
“She’s moping,” Sirius whispers, arms crossed and dark brows bunched. He’s leaning back against the counter, having followed Remus into the kitchen to ‘help make the popcorn’. Two fingers tap restlessly on his bicep. 
Remus watches the movement, pensive. “She might’ve just had a rough day,” he says back. The sound of popcorn in the microwave works to cover his voice. “I think she’d tell us if we’d done something to upset her.”
He gets where Sirius is coming from. You’ve seemed a tad dimmer than usual, mumbly and perhaps a bit tired. But Sirius is quick to worry, and he has a nose for tension that occasionally sniffs it out when it’s not really there. 
“She might not.” Sirius is doing that thing where he looks and sounds angry when really he’s worried. Remus leans over to kiss his hair. 
“She’s better than us,” he reassures him, taking the popcorn from the microwave and leading the way back into the living room. 
You’re huddled up in one corner of the couch, blanket pulled tight around you and eyes looking to nowhere. You perk up a little when Remus shakes some of the popcorn into a bowl and sets it in your lap. 
“Thanks,” you say. 
“Course. Did you pick a film?” 
“I started to, but…” You shrug, passing the remote to Sirius as he sits down next to you. “You guys can pick, I don’t really care what we watch.” 
Sirius sends Remus a look. See? Remus frowns. He’s still not convinced you’re upset with them, specifically, but your upset in general is hard to deny. 
It’s unsettling to have you glum like this. He and Sirius have always been prone to their moods, but you’re…not, so much. It’s not that you never have a bad day, of course, they try to give you the environment to feel whatever you like. They’ve just not seen you like this before, obviously upset but seemingly with no cause. 
Sirius picks one of your favorite films anyway. The intro credits start, and ordinarily, this would be the part where you lean onto your other side and cozy up to him, but you don’t. You stay curled up in your corner, eyes at half-mast and pretty face impassive. 
The sweet bit of skin between Sirius’ brows is marred by a dent. 
Remus is sitting in the armchair adjacent to your side of the couch. He reaches across the space for your hand. With so overt a request, you give it to him, looking a touch bemused. He holds your gaze, sweeping his thumb over your knuckles. 
“Are you alright?” 
You blink. “Me?” When Remus doesn’t look away, you shrink slightly, shoulders pulling up towards your ears. “I’m fine, yeah. Are you?” 
“Oh, how crafty,” Sirius drawls. “Redirect the question, we’ll never see through that.” 
You smile cautiously. “Way to make me asking my boyfriend how he is seem nefarious.” 
Sirius’ answering grin is sharp, but Remus can see the anxiety beneath it. “You’re not as subtle as you think, babe. Why don’t you tell us what’s got you so twisted up, huh?” 
Just like that, you shut down again. You pull your hand from Remus’, fixing your eyes on the TV. “I’m not twisted up,” you say. 
“Dovey,” Remus says softly. When you look at him, your expression is controlled but your gaze is tentative. “Have we done something to upset you?” 
“What?” A line forms between your brows, a companion for Sirius’. “No, you’ve—you’re perfect.” 
“Well, I like to think so,” Sirius agrees breezily, “but you’re obviously not happy with us. It’d help if you’d just say what it is, so apologies and amends can commence. Unless it’s that I left the toilet paper roll empty again, in which case I can only say that you knew what you were getting into when you moved in.” 
His feeble attempt at levity doesn’t make much of a dent in your creased expression, though you do tilt up one side of your mouth as though to commend him for his effort. 
“I’m not upset with either of you,” you say slowly. Your tone carries a hue of resignation. “I promise, if I was mad I would say.” 
Now it’s Remus’ turn to look at Sirius. See? But Sirius looks even more troubled, as though he can’t fathom what could be wrong in your life if it’s not him. 
“You are upset, though,” Remus says softly. “What’s wrong?” 
You sigh, the sound heavy with that unidentified melancholy, and Sirius seems to feel secure enough now to drop a kiss on your shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply, defeated. “I’m just in a mood because of my period, sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother.” 
Remus coos, reaching across the gap again to pet your baby hairs. 
Sirius leans into your side. “You?” he asks, kissing your shoulder again. “Never. Why didn’t you say, lovebug?” 
You shrug. You seem to be slumping deeper into the couch with every affectionate touch, your body relaxing. “It’s a bit embarrassing. I don’t want to be acting all sad just because my hormones are going funny.” 
“You’re not just acting sad if you are actually sad,” Remus points out. “Is your stomach hurting you?” 
“Not really.” You shift your weight so you’re leaning into Sirius, too. He looks about as happy as he can be when someone he loves is hurting, bottom lip pushed out as he rubs your shoulder and smooshes his cheek into the top of your head. “Just sad.” 
“D’you wanna watch something happy, sweetheart?” Sirius asks, voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness. “Or something sad, to cry it out?” 
You shrug again. “Maybe just a little sad? Like The Perks of Being a Wallflower.” 
“That’s only a little sad to you? Shit, baby, you’re tough as nails.”
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wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 3
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paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k bc i'm a slut for this man SRFKLHSDLK summary: everything in your life is affected as your relationship with leehan progresses. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (male and female receiving), expressions of insecurity and self-esteem issues should you wish to read on ao3, click HERE.
At the library on a Saturday night, you, Leehan, Riwoo, and Giselle sit at the same table, studying for your approaching midterms. 
“Y/N,” says Leehan. “Can you send me the pdf file you found for the English textbook?”
You nod, quickly finding the file on your phone and airdropping it to Leehan the Lion . “Just sent it.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, before returning to writing notes on his laptop. 
This is about as exciting as your interactions get with Leehan when you’re among your group of friends, studying or going to the caf or finding some event on campus to go to. 
It was the ultimate whiplash, then, to experience Leehan when you were alone. 
Because in the month or so that’s passed since the night of the lunar eclipse, every few days you could look forward to the what are you doing? text that usually led up to some of the most satisfying, passionate sex of your life.
The friends-with-benefits arrangement the two of you were in had quickly become the center of your life. It felt like you were always in limbo as you awaited his latest text, and when you got it, it didnt’t matter what you were doing – you were always ready to surrender to him, to surrender to pleasure that was beginning to feel like the only thing that made you excited to wake up some days.
You had sex sometimes three, sometimes five times a week. Where it happened didn’t really matter to either of you — in the bathroom at a party, the confines of your dorm room, in the backseat of his car. 
Everything in your life had been shrunken to make space for what was now your top priority. 
And whatever negative impacts were to come of such decision-making were yet to be seen when it felt like the high you received from his attention was blinding everything else.
It was always weird to have to face him in settings like this the next day, to hear him speak to you so casually as if his face wasn’t buried between your legs less than 24 hours ago. Still, you kept up your end of this unspoken bargain to pretend as if you weren’t anything but acquaintances.
“I have midterms for every class. I’m feel like I’m gonna die of stress,” said Giselle, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulders. Giselle was one of the people who rode with Jaehyun during the lunar eclipse, and although you didn’t get much time to speak with her then, you’ve since gotten close by hanging out more. 
“That’s why you need to find the right vice. Food…drugs… orgasms, ” replies Leehan playfully, quirking a teasing eyebrow in her direction. He chuckles as Giselle rolls her eyes at him, and as much as you hate yourself for it, you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on her even as she returns to her textbook.
Occasionally, you’ll observe the fact that the sense of humor and charm that made you fall for Leehan in the first place is not something that he reserves for only you, and it makes you just the tiniest bit sad. 
It’s nice to feel, even if it’s not true, like the moments you share alone in your bedroom are ones where he feels safe to show you things no one else gets to see. Like you hold the key to pieces of Leehan that no one else can access. 
So in times like these where you’re presented with evidence that says otherwise, it makes you feel like there is nothing special or significant about how you and Leehan got to where you were. Perhaps it was just a case of right place right time, like he could’ve met anyone – Giselle, even –  and done the same things he’s done with you.
Then again, the interaction you just observed could’ve been completely innocent and it’s you that’s overthinking it.
At the end of the day, if you were keeping score, the fact that you’re the first person with whom Leehan has offered up his body to on a regular basis feels like more than enough evidence that what you share is special.
In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gonna fuck you after this.
You know because in the hour or so later when the library is about to close and you’re wrapping up your study session, he says, “Y/N, you live near the mail center, right? I’ll walk with you; I need to drop something off before I head home.”
It takes every bit of self control you have to not break out into a smirk – he knows exactly where you live, and it’s because you fuck there almost every time. “Sure,” you reply, in the most neutral voice you can possible muster.
“See you guys later,” you’re saying to Riwoo and Giselle as you pack up your things and head out. 
It’s past midnight and almost completely dark outside by the time you and Leehan leave, save for the few street lights that illuminate the sidewalk. For no reason in particular, it’s silent between the two of you. You might’ve found such an atmosphere to be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that your dorm was only a 5 minute walk away. And, when it comes to Leehan, you can never be too presumptuous in trying to interpret his moods; being the person that he is, something you’d usually interpret as disinterest could actually mean a plethora of non-threatning things for him.
On the way there, you approach what’s essentially an alleyway, a narrow space between two dorms that is deserted and dark. You don’t think anything of it until suddenly, you’re tugged inside of it and everything in your line of sight goes dark.
And before you can ask questions or react, your senses are flooded by the feeling of Leehan’s lips pressed against yours.
It’s amazing how your body adapts to the sudden gesture before your mind does. While it takes you a moment to internally acknowledge that you’re not in danger, your skin ignites with electricity the moment his lips touch yours. 
If a bystander were to observe the passionate, needy, almost desperate way he’s kissing you, they’d think that you’re someone he hasn’t seen in years, someone who he’s eager to make up lost time with. 
He doesn’t stop at just dominating your mouth with his tongue. His hands, like calloused vines, wrap themselves around your body, setting fire to whatever pieces of exposed skin he can find. And when you whimper against him, he adds to the sound with a groan of his own.
But no, this isn’t a kiss of two lovers who have been separated by time, or location. Leehan is just a person who is steadfast in his commitment to doing everything in his life earnestly. And it’s one of the many reasons why you are enamored by him.
When he pulls away to look at you, you can see even in the dark the expression of relief on his face. It’s as if kissing you was an urge he has been suppressing until now, and having gotten his fix, he’s left in a state of contentment.
“What was that for?” you ask, adrenaline and arousal running through your veins in such an fiery combination that you find your voice comes out weaker than usual.
“Just had to get it out my system,” is what he says indifferently in reply, and with his lips curling into a smirk, he heads out of the alleyway and continues on the path to your dorm. You follow him, feeling like the arousal you had been suppressing the entire time you were at the library with your friends has now doubled in a way that makes your knees wobbly as you walk.
It’s silent between the two of again as you approach the building to your dorm, although now you feel confident in assuming that it had always been searing sexual tension that was keeping him from being his usual talkative, bubbly self. 
It could be confusing to someone else, then, why — even as you’re locking the door to your room with him inside of it – you still aren’t all over each other in the way your earlier interactions might’ve preluded. 
But it’s because you just have one more confirmation you need to make before you can truly let go of your inhibitions, and that’s the question of, “Is your roommate here?”
Your roommate, lovely girl, would usually be here in the dorm at this time. But already having a feeling what you’d be getting up to tonight, you transparently informed her through text that im so so sorry but i’m out with you know who and i could reallllyyy use some dick tonight. buy you food to make up for it? just before you left the library.
“No. She’s out studying,” you tell Leehan. 
When you meet each other’s gazes, Leehan’s eyes sparkling as if he’s just been told he’s won the lottery, you can sense the exact moment when the both of you realize there’s no longer a need to wait. And so, like animals excitedly tearing up freshly-killed prey, it’s in a messy, rushed flurry of movements that you both take each other’s clothes off. 
Before Leehan, you don’t think you ever experienced an attraction for someone so intense that it caused you to push furniture over in the process of trying to get to the bedroom. But with him, the sound of a glass vase breaking doesn’t feel so concerning when you’re too busy trying to make it to the bed, take off his clothes, and not break your kiss all at once. 
There’s something so humorous about your shared vigor, causing you to both smile into the kisses you share, remaining playful even among such intensity. 
“You’re roommate’s a lovely person, isn’t she?” he remarks as he backs you up into your bedroom doorframe, throwing the jacket you had been wearing on your rug in the process. “I’ve gotta apologize to her one day. Poor girl’s had to hear so many things.”
You hate how much his words ring true, because truthfully, tonight was one out of several rare occasions in which you’ve been given enough foresight to warn your roommate before Leehan comes over. Other times, things between you two have blossomed too spontaneously for a warning, or, your phone died while you were out together, giving you no means to let her know he was arriving. 
“ Ew . Don’t talk about her like that. It’ll make me think you have a thing for her,” you reply in reference to the lovely person and poor girl attributions, and although you’re mostly joking, the insecurity from before about his interest in other women still remains present in the forefront of your mind.
And it’s not at all helped when, even jokingly, he makes remarks like, “Hey — I’d never say no to inviting someone else into our activities.”
At this point, you’re standing in nothing but a bra and panties in front of him, preparing to give your body up for his pleasure, which is why you think it’s fairly reasonable that you reach out to swat him in response to such cheekiness. 
But he seizes your wrists before you can make contact, laughing at your reaction in that way that, as annoying as it is to acknowledge right now, makes him look so, so sexy. “I’m kidding, baby,” he chides apologetically. “I’d never share you. Want you too fucking badly to even think about it.”
It’s in moments like these that you can’t help but get butterflies from Leehan, especially when he leans in to kiss you languidly right after. This habit he’s taken of calling you all sorts of pet names, from princess to baby to sweet girl, is something that has made your attraction to him increase tenfold. 
How could you help it, when his deep voice by itself is like a weapon specifically designed to torture you?
“Are you needy, baby?” asks Leehan teasingly, as his hand is now stuffed in your underwear, and his forehead is pressed against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface of your dresser and fingers you expertly. “Was what we did two days ago not enough? Did I not fuck you good enough?”
It’s actually because the sex from two days ago – and the day before that and the day before that and the days since you met him – was too good that you find yourself needing little stimulation to get wet at the thought of fucking him again. But of course, you don’t admit this, not needing his ego to get any larger than it is. “Shut up and fuck me.”
But Leehan doesn’t pay your cheek any mind, reacting only with a scoff as he busies himself with getting on his knees in front of you. Pressing his face against the skin of your bare stomach, he remarks, “You smell like me. It’s so fucking sexy.”
Leehan is the most wayward person you’ve ever met. But you can surely count on him in moments like these to make your entire body feel like it’s on fire, knowing exactly what buttons to push and places to touch to get a rise out of you. All he does is leave chaste, delicate kisses along the skin from your sternum to your belly button, but the fact that he maintains eye contact as he does it, and the implication that he makes when he says, “And I bet you taste like heaven, too,” makes you feel like you’re experiencing something so ethereal it’s as if you’re out of your own body.
You’re looking down at him as he kisses at the spot just above your pussy, and it’s at that moment that you decide you want him too badly to wait any longer. Fingers that had once laced themselves in his hair now tug on the strands, pulling him up and off of you. “Leehan. Inside of me. Now.”
You watch as his eyes scan your face to tell if you’re being serious or not, and if you could see yourself through his gaze, you know you’d be convincingly earnest in your desire to have him. Once he confirms this for himself, he pops up from his previous position kneeling on the ground, and looks at you with his head cocked to the side in a expression of challenge. Pushing you up onto the dresser, he quirks an eyebrow to say, “Have I ever told you that I find you sexiest when you’re telling me what to do?”
At this, you smile, playing into his confession by commanding, “Kiss me,” before leaning in to meet his lips. And when his hand travels between your legs, you know it’s not to touch you, but to reach into the top drawer of your dresser where you’ve allowed him to stash some condoms. It’s with excitment that you hear him tear open the package, sliding the latex onto his hardened cock.
There’s a moment just before he lines his cock up with your slit where he pulls away from your lips, reaching a hand out to hold your jaw in place so that your eyelines are level. And when he simply just stares at you silently, allowing his eyes to graze your features with an awe-stricken expression on his face, you can’t help but look away as the intensity of his admiration becomes overwhelming.
He chuckles at your obvious shyness, hand never leaving your jaw as he continues to view you like you’re a delicate statue he’s entranced by. “Don’t you think it’s too late to be shy after everything we’ve done together?” he says jokingly, and even though you feign disagreement with a roll of your eyes, you make no effort to suppress the smile that appears on your face as you bask in his teasing of you.
“I can’t help it,” you reply, comfortably meeting his gaze now. “You’re just really fucking handsome.”
You’re sure he’s heard these words hundreds of times in hundreds of ways, and yet you can see his eyes-widening as if you’ve said something sincerely touching. Perhaps the words hit differently when heard spontaneously, genuinely, without any pretense behind them.
It’s without any warning that Leehan pushes himself inside of you. Caught off guard by the feeling of his cock entering you inch by pleasurable inch, you can only make a mental note to apologize to him later as your fingernails dig into the skin of his back. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind, too focused on leaning his forehead against yours and watching with greedy eyes as his cock enters your pussy and leaves it with a creamy sheen. 
“Jesus fucking christ, Y/N,” he remarks in awe, managing the words through a shaky exhale as he moves to hook his arms underneath your thighs. He pulls your body closer to the edge of the dresser, bringing his cock even deeper inside of you. He hasn’t even started fucking you properly yet, and still you let out a series of elongated sighs and moans, wrapping your arms around his neck for a sense of comfort.
It’s when you’re completely pressed together in a skin-to-skin embrace that he finally begins to thrust inside of you at a pace that you’re used to. As clumsy and unsure as he can sometimes be, Leehan never fucks you erratically. It’s always with a controlled, focused pace that he pistons his hips into yours, knowing your body so well that you never have to tell him when to slow up or go faster. 
When you first met Leehan, you couldn’t understand the concept of kissing being considered an intimate act between two lovers. 
But now, as he leans in to press his mouth against yours, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth, it’s with suprsing clarity that you realize why some people like to refrain from kissing entirely when they hook up with someone. 
You’re at your most smitten when being passionately tongue-kissed through an unforgiving onslaught of thrusts, a part of you wishing that this sex could become a permanent fixture in your life and not just a transactional, temporary high.  
It’s only when he slots a hand between your bodies to tweak at your clit that it becomes impossible for you to meet his kiss, feeling too much pleasure to hold back your open-mouthed cries. Leehan then moves to kissing your neck, and it’s some of the most sensual affection you've ever received as he allows his tongue to drag across your skin, suctioning his lips on sections of your shoulder where you’re sure he’s leaving hickies. 
He goes up your body in this sequence until he reaches your ear, mumbling, “You take care of my cock so well,” as he licks at the shell of your ear and sinks his teeth onto your earlobe. “It’s why I’m never coming off of you. It’s too fucking good for me to stop.”
Transfixed by the sound of his voice, the feel of his cock, and the stimulation you receive on your clit, you can feel that it’s only a matter of time before your pleasure reaches it’s crescending point. “Leehan,” you mumble out, grabbing onto fistfuls of his long hair as if it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. “Come with me.”
He denies this request with a click of his tongue, mumbling the words, “You first,” into your ear as his thrusts increase in impact. It’s in a sad attempt at a kiss that you press your mouth against his, feeling his intensity and passion just as the same even as you devolve into just grazing your tongue against his mouth. 
Your orgasm hits you in a feeling that’s akin to a bunch of puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together at once; the combination of his cock, his closeness, and his endless circling of your clit leaves your body seizing with what is surely one of the most pleasurable feelings of your life. 
And as you feel his movements becoming rapid and untethered, knowing that the feeling of your tighetning cunt will soon become too pleasurable for him to bear, it’s with satisfied foreboding that you watch him give you his last, hard thrust. 
There are a least of couple minutes that pass where neither of you move, the only sounds being your successive heavy breathing as you both come down from intense highs. Leehan makes the first move by carrying you your bed, where he plops you down on your back and makes a very sexy whimpering sound as he’s forced to pull out of you. 
Even once you’re separated, he still plops down on the bed to rest next to you. A forearm’s length apart, you long for him to touch you, even if just for a moment.
“Shit,” he mutters, an outburst that has you confused until you notice his eyes and their fixation with your bedside alarm clock. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I really don’t want to drive back to my apartment at this time.”
Then stay, is what you think to yourself, but these are words that you would never dare to actually vocalize. 
There was truthfully one instance just a month or so prior when you suggested he might leave a bookbag in your room so he didn’t have to walk home with it in the rain. Not too soon will you forget the way a usually upbeat Leehan turned cold on you within seconds, neglecting to say more than a see you later as he almost sprinted to leave your apartment.
You’d be lying if you said his eagerness to leave after the sex is finished wasn’t at least the slightest bit dismaying. 
The delusional part of you wishes he could at least pretend like he didn’t just come here to fuck you and nothing more. 
It would be nice to believe that the sheer enjoyment of your company would be enough to make him want to stay afterwards.  
And what’s worse is that every time, he comes up with some way to express how much he probably should stay. Like just now, how he mentioned how late it was. It frustrates you more than anything. 
Because no matter how much he says he doesn’t want to leave, he always does. 
And at this point, you wish he would just do it decisively instead of trying to soften the blow. 
“Did you hear about the party we’re having this weekend?” you hear him ask suddenly, his body in a sitting position as he gets up to put on his clothes. “Ha. We . Well, really Jaehyun.”
Though you find it difficult to have casual conversation with him when your mind is elsewhere, you indulge him with a truthful shake of your head. “No. What’s it for?”
“Halloween. He’s asking everyone to dress up,” says Leehan, having already made it to the other side of your room. If you were in more of a spirited mood, you might laugh at how he mentions dressing up for Halloween as if it’s something that’s beneath him. “Don’t worry that he didn’t tell you. He just came up with the idea yesterday. 
The fact that Jaehyun hadn’t mentioned the party to you wasn’t even a thought that occurred in your mind. You were more so concerned with the logistics of deciding to throw a party during midterms. Stressed beyond relief with your own course load, you couldn’t imagine deciding to attend anything extracurricular at this time of year.
But then, the idea of making such plans seems a lot more plausible when Leehan says, “Are you coming, pretty? I think it would be cute if we went with with matching costumes.”
It’s because of moments like these that your feelings for Leehan can be so conflicting. At the beginning of your day today, he sat around you with your other friends and acted as if you were nothing more than acquaintances. Followed you to your dorm and fucked you as sensually and passionately as a boyfriend would. Is getting dressed and preparing to leave within minutes of reaching his climax. And now, he calls you pet names in a non-sexual context and tells you he wants to wear a couple’s costume with you. Constantly affronted with gestures that are both hot and cold, you can never be too sure whether it’s you that’s delusional or him that’s sending mixed messages.
Nonetheless, you cannot help yourself from replying, “Sounds fun. I’ll be there,” even though you know you that you shouldn’t. Even though you know you have far too much on your plate academically to be going to a party on a school night. Even though you know your actions should not be so predated on his. Knowing all of this, you still find yourself not the least bit concerned, only excited, as you think about attending the party together.
“See you then, gorgeous. Have sweet, x-rated dreams about me,” is what he says as he finishes putting on his discarded clothes, standing in your bedroom doorway as he prepares to leave. His silhouette casts a shadow over your dimly lit room, covering your naked, vulnerable body. 
“Shut up,” you mumble weakly as you move to throw a pillow at him, a part of you wishing that all of your interactions felt as sweet as this one did.  
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>you: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?
Five minutes before you were planning to head out to Jaehyun’s party, you reread this text from two days ago over and over, the delivered in the corner almost taunting you. Just 13 words took you at least an half an hour to send because you couldn’t stop wondering if it was too vague or too forward or if you shouldn’t have even said anything all. 
And now, as you sit on the cold bench outside of your dorm waiting for your Uber to the party, wearing a cheap angel costume, you realize now what a mistake it was to send that text. 
You suppose the misunderstanding you’ve found yourself in started with your assumption – based on Leehan’s last words to you as he left your dorm just a few days ago – that you’d be shopping together to find matching costumes for Jaehyun’s party. 
But when the party was inching closer and he had yet to reach out, you ventured to a PartyCity on your own. It was then that you sent the text after much internal laboring, ultimatley thinking that maybe he was busy with midterms and would be grateful that you had taken the initiative on both your behalf's to buy the costumes.
Even as you were halfway through the checkout line and still nothing from Leehan, you bought a matching devil costume for him anyway, plastic red horns to match your sparkly halo. Maybe, when he was less busy, he’d eventually reach back out, still interested in going to the party with you and grateful you saved him the trouble of picking out a costume. 
In your mind, there were a billion rational possibilities for why he wasn’t responding that would still ultimately end in your original plans to attend the party and dress together.
It wasn’t until an hour before the party and still no response from Leehan that you were forced to accept you’d be going to this party yourself. A billion questions arose in your mind. Was something wrong, explaining why he had been M.I.A after making plans with you? Had he forgotten about the party entireley? 
Did he just…no longer want to go with you anymore?
As you stood up to enter your approaching Uber, you try to remind yourself that the party was being thrown at Leehan’s apartment – there was no way that he was oblivious to what today was. If he hadn’t responded to your text, it didn’t necessarily have to be for malicious reasons. Maybe he just genuinely forgot, or was one of the many people who went offline during midterm season.
Either way, you were beginning to think that you were worrying too much for no reason. After all, it isn’t the end of the world that you aren’t arriving together in matching costumes.
Or, maybe it’s the couple of shots you took while getting ready finally kicking in and causing your rationality to dissipate.
Arriving at Jaehyun’s apartment, you already knew that knocking on the door would be futile; without entering, you could hear the loud sounds of bass burning through a speaker that you could guess would make any outside noise intelligible. Instead, you took your chances at twisting the doorknob, and sure enough, it was unlocked. It seemed dangerous to you, but you walked in anyway to find a cacophony of purple, green, and orange strobe lights, illuminating the sizeable crowd of people filling the space. 
Decorations of cobwebs and skulls adored almost every surface, and as you walked further inside, you noticed the array of drink bowls spread out against a long table. 
You observe impressively that Jaehyun went as far as hiring a DJ, a guy dressed in a vampire costume who jerks his upper body back and forth to the rhythm of the music. 
It’s almost like a scene in a coming-of-age-film come to life, mountains of young adult bodies bouncing in a hypnotic fervor while drinks in red solo cups are sloshed up and down in the process.
Making your way through the crowd, you spot several of your newfound friends, plus others Jaehyun introduced you to at the lunar eclipse. You wave particularly to Riwoo, Giselle, and Sungho – dressed as an elf, cat, and fireman respectively – but really , who you’re looking for is Leehan. 
In the first five minutes or so of your search, you have no luck in finding him. You do, however, run into Jaehyun, whose sleeveless jean vest with no shirt underneath immediately gives away his costume as Ken from the Barbie movie. You giggle at the realization, taken aback even more when Jaehyun drapes an arm clumsily over your shoulder, bringing you in closer.
“I’m so glad you could make it, Y/N!” he shouts, competing with the loud music, and just barely – you almost want to drag him somewhere quieter, away from the DJ booth, but the longer you look at Jaehyun, taking in his wobbly, red-faced disposition, you realize he must be drunk. Trying to force him into any extended movement in his current condition would be futile.
“Thanks. Hey, have you seen Leehan?” you ask, skipping any pleasantries. You want to get an answer from his as quickly as possible before he becomes incoherent.
To your dismay, he shakes his head no. “He’s not coming. Told me he had a study date he was going to.”
You hope the absence of light outside from the shitty strobes obscures the expression of disappointment that is surely on your face right now, or even better that Jaehyun is too drunk to remember you asking this at all tomorrow morning. 
“You’re not still interested in him, are you?” asks Jaehyun, the smallest glimmer of rationality breaking through his drunken fervor as he seems to be sincere in asking. You force a smile, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible before he’s able to notice the difference.
“No, of course not,” you dismiss with a small laugh. You give Jaehyun a friendly pat on the arm before identifying where the drinks are so you can head there next. “Thanks for having me.”
Beelining for the punch table, you fill a red solo cup with a mixture of liquids from all three bowls and throw it down without investigating what you’ve just ingested. To your dismay, rather than dulling your emotions, the alcohol brings out your festering resentment. Towards Leehan, towards this entire situation.
Truthfully, with your own midterms looming and a mountain of late assignments you’ve allowed to pile up over the last few months as you prirotized sex with Leehan, it was against your every best interest to show up tonight. 
You had checked your assignment-board this morning to discover that two essays worth 40% of your grade were due at 11:59 tonight. 
A class you were already failing with a 60 was requiring you to submit revisions for a paper tonight, too.
And yet, you made the decision to come out tonight – promising yourself you’d make it home at a decent enough hour so that you could at least submit something – because of Leehan. 
You were encouraged to wake up this morning and the morning before this morning because of your excitement at the notion of coming to this party with him by your side, wearing matching costumes and sharing drinks and hopefully spit by the end of the night, too.
If you were being completely honest, all of your days were beginning to feel like that — like the only thing you had to continuously look forward to was seeing or experiencing Leehan in some way shape or form.
Experiencing his laugh and his weird habit of bringing up the most random topics at the drop of a dime. Seeing his dimples pop out when he smiles at you and feeling like it’s the cutest thing in the world.
It’s becoming clear to you now that his absence has just as big — no, a bigger emotional impact that his presence does.
You’re angry because you know you didn’t create this excitement out of nowhere: he told you he wanted you to come to this party. You went solely because he said he was going to. If he didn’t want to come tonight, if he had plans, he could have warned you.
You’re angry at yourself for believing him. 
Worst of all, you’re angry because he’s on a date and it confirms all of your biggest insecurities about you not being enough for him.
And it’s at this point that you acknowledge how woefully unequipped you were to say yes to the proposition he gave you the night of the lunar eclipse. Because if it means having to experience the profoundly soul-crushing reality of his disinterest in anything having to do with you other than quick, indulgent sex, you’d rather die a million times. 
You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your bag to grab it unfeelingly. It’s a notification from Leehan. And as if you needed one more reason to feel like shit tonight, the nofication reads, Leehan questioned your message: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?
You’re so tired of trying to analyze Leehan’s every action and gesture in an effort to convince yourself that maybe there’s some large reasoning behind his indifference. Instead of searching for any additional explanation behind in the question mark, you simply decide that he’s an asshole who had no intention of going out with you tonight.
And it’s with that steely acknowledgement that suddenly, you feel like you’re about to throw up all of the liquor you’ve just consumed. Taking a deep breath to stop yourself from spilling your guts right then and there, you decide it’s time to go home.
In your haste to leave the party, you don’t bother to try and yell excuse me to the 20 or so people blocking your way to the exit. You simply squeeze past who you can and push past who you can’t, not even caring to look back at those you shoulder check until you’re turned around by a pull against your forearm.
Face-to-chest with a figure you don’t immediately recognize, you body seizes up in fear, a condition that’s only slightly alleviated when you recognize the person’s voice as they exclaim in a deep voice, “ Whoa, whoa whoa . Hey, Y/N.” 
It’s in slight annoyance that you look up to meet Leehan’s gaze, finding him staring down at you softly. It appears that he’s just walked into the party. In a space  full of people dressed as mythical creatures, he looks out of place in his leather jacket and jeans, but also oh so attractive. His hair gathers in front of his face messily, the dark brown locks in a rare state of curliness. He doesn’t have to wear plastic horns to look devilish. 
“Are you okay?” you hear him ask loudly over the sound of the music, his hand now resting on the apex of your arm. Feeling both defiant and embarrassed to tell him the true answer to his question – that no , you’re not okay because you foolishly thought you could count on him to be there for you when he said he would – you don’t answer. 
And in a move that only contributes to the growing feeling that all Leehan truly cares about when it comes to you is sex, he doesn’t even allow you the time to answer, even if you wanted to. “You look pretty, angel ,” he says only seconds after his last remark, using both of his hands to smoothe down pieces of your hair messed up by your headband. 
A compliment that would usually cause sparks to fly throughout your stomach now only annoys you, especially as you catch a whiff of fruity, feminine perfume on his body. 
“You smell like someone else,” you tell him plainly, too drunk to hide what it is you’re thinking. And you can see that the remark and the resentful tone in which you say it takes him aback, even as he chuckles in an attempt to remain composed. 
“Because I was driving for Uber, tonight, pretty,” he says, and before you have a chance to question his excuse, he continues by asking, “How much have you had to drink?”
“Why does that matter?” you retort with a scoff, convinced he’s about to try and spin this on you by suggesting your valid anger is a result of your drinking. 
But then he puts on that signature smirk of his, those wretched dimples of his coming out as he leans down into your ear to say, “Because when I ask If I can take you to my room in about five minutes, I want to make sure I’m not taking advantage of you.”
Yout hate that those words and the implication of sex have you immediately aroused and pliant, even as you grapple with the feeling of being just a physical object to him. 
Because as much as you dislike him right now for what he’s put you through emotionally, his renewed attention feels like the perfect solvent to your wounds.
“You wouldn’t be,” you reply softly, your voice coming out small and weak as you maintain unbroken eye contact with him.
“Yeah?” he replies almost mockingly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “Why do I get the feeling that you want me to take advantage of you?”
It feels like your mind and heart are on two different accords as your face remains passive and unaffected yet what comes out of your mouth is, “Take me to your room and find out.”
It’s less a feeling of shame but more like acceptance that comes over you as you follow Leehan back into the throes of the party, his hand leading you through the crowd of people and towards his bedroom. 
Deep down, you know that the excuse he gave you earlier about his whereabouts was bullshit. Never once before has Leehan mentioned driving for Uber, and even if he did, it still wouldn’t justify his complete lack of regard for the plans you made and his lack of regard for you , refusing to notify you in advance that he wouldn’t be available.
But when faced with the proposition of sex, it seems foolish to deny it so that you can… what ? Continue to stew in feelings that will just leave you feeling empty, hurt, and worthless? Question him about being on a date when you know you have no right to?
Having sex will at least guarantee you a few moments of mind-numbing bliss, even if only a temporary high. Better that than have to face the reality of your own complicated nest of delusion.
As you’re let into Leehan’s room, hearing the sound of him closing the door shut behind you, you’re hit with the sudden realization that in the three months or so you’ve known him, you’ve never been in here before. 
His room has all the markers of a college boy’s sense of taste – dark colored furniture and bedsheets, posters scattered on the wall with no real order, random piles of mess occupying corners of the room. 
In a space that is otherwise unremarkable, your attention is piqued by a square, rectangular tank on top of his dresser.
“You have fish ,” you remark in a tone that is both matter-a-fact and questioning, something about your drunken state making you more curious than ever about the tank and it’s inhabitants. 
Throwing his jacket onto a random chair, Leehan comes up next to you and lets out a chuckle as he takes in your awe-stricken expression. “For some reason, I forgot you haven’t been in here before,” he observes, and when he watches you just continue to stand still, eyes transfixed on the fish but still remaining a few feet away from the tank, he gestures for you to follow him to it. “C’mon. Sit.”
You can’t help the way that your limbs move eagerly and excitedly towards the tank, where Leehan pulls up two extra chairs for you both to sit and view it together. 
Fish of all different sizes and shapes swim around in vibrant blurs of pink, orange and beige. You watch it all in awe, not sure if it’s because you’re tipsy or simply curious, and as Leehan explains what each type of fish is called, you hang onto every word.
“...this one is called a corydoras catfish. The rest of them are shrimp,” he explains, pressing his finger up against the tank as he points out each fish and the attributes that differentiate them from one another. 
In one corner of the tank, a group of fish swim frantically around each other, as if fighting.
“Usually they come right up against the tank when I sit in front of them like this. I think they’re mad because I haven’t given them any fish food.”
“Don’t you need to feed them?” you ask in genuine concern, turning to look at Leehan who only smirks.
“Are you trying to imply that I’m a negligent father, Y/N?” he retorts dramatically, his body tensing in mock offense before he relaxes and explains, “Don’t worry. They’re supposed to eat the algae on the rock. For some reason, they’re just being hesitant.”
“Maybe the algae isn’t what they want,” you chime in with a reasoning tilt to your quiet, contemplative voice.
“Just because the fish food is what they want doesn’t mean I should give it to them,” Leehan retorts simply, and maybe it’s the drunk, cynical part of you that thinks he’s making reference to your relationship. That you’re the fish who just can’t help but want something it can’t have, and he’s the sensible overseer that remains in control of what you will receive. 
But if Leehan is making some sort of larger, metaphorical reference to your relationship, he surely moves on from it quickly, becoming wistful and contemplative as he says, “I’ve been raising fishes all my life. Sometimes when I’m stressed I’ll just sit in front of the tank and talk to them.”
He presses his hand flat against the tank, his lips twitching into a prideful, paternal smile. “Because I know that unlike humans, they’ll never judge me.”
You find that your eyes never stray from the side of Leehan’s face as he talks, feeling almost like you’re a purveyor to this private, intimate moment he’s having. It feels like a privilege to be able to observe Leehan in moments like this where you’re given a genuine glimpse into his inner personhood.
But you’re pushed out just as quickly as you’re let in, watching as he promptly gets up from his seat by the tank and makes his way over to the bed. You turn your body in your chair to face him, and find that he’s now staring at you lustfully, gesturing for you to join him.
And as dismaying as it is to see him abandon the brief moment of emotional vulnerability just as quickly as it began, you stand up anyway, making your way to him.
Your movements toward him are slow, shy almost, and you can tell it pleases Leehan as you stand between his legs and are brought forward by his hands pushing at your lower back. He looks up at you, communicating wordlessly with just his sensual gaze how much he wants you. Your lingering anger from before stops you from making the first move, but even so, you don’t resist when he leans in to press a soft, steady kiss against your lips. Finding something almost apologetic about the innocent gesture, you put aside all of your inhibitions and decide to deepen the kiss, leaning your body fully into his and relishing in the groans he makes against your mouth. 
Passion quickly bleeds into the both of your movements until you’re kissing in a crazed, frantic manner. His hands that previously only looped your hips now wander across the expanse of your back, and with one forceful tug, your zipper comes down your dress. You’ve only just allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders before he’s pulling the dress down himself, exposing your nipples to the cold air before covering them with his hot mouth. Tongue swirling around your hardened nubs, you nuzzle a hand in his hair and throw your head back in contentment. 
It’s with a wet pop that he pulls off of you, leaning upward to lock your lips once more. But because you're both incredibly and overwhelming horny, the kiss lasts for barely a few seconds before he’s pulling away to voice his plans for your body. 
“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbles, voice gruff and deep and dripping with desire. “Wanna put that pretty pussy of yours in my mouth.”
Smirking in reply, you rest your head against his, eyes closed as you weather the currents of several shocks of arousal that travel up your body and make your legs feel like jelly. “I want that, too,” you confess, your voice sounding wispy as your body loses the strength to be assertive. “Also kinda want your dick in my mouth.”
His eyes light up at this, and with a hand on your chin that brings your face level with his, he says, “How about this: You hop on my face, and I’ll let you suck my cock. Sound good?”
Something about Leehan’s enduring leadership has the effect of making you feel intimidated, so much so that all you manage is a shy nod in response to his words, which he luckily accepts without any further prompting. You’re better at speaking with your actions, anyway, knowing that there’s a wordless understanding in the way that you kiss him hard and passionately while your hands push him onto his back.  
It’s with greedy, fast-moving hands that you strip him of his clothes, desperate for the instant bliss that is his mouth against your clit, the instant satisfaction that is his cum shooting down your throat. Once you have him fully naked, the fuzzy halo headband you’ve long forgotten about the only shared item of clothing between the two of you, you begin to adjust so that you may assume the required position. 
But your movements are suddenly halted when Leehan sits up suddenly, muttering the word “Wait,” as he maneuvers the both of your bodies so that you now lay on the complete opposite side of the bed. 
“That’s better,” he mumbles contentedly.
“What?”
“Just don’t want the fish to see what I’m about to do to you,” he replies, an answer so baffling that all you can do is laugh in reply. Your reaction barely phases him as he moves to drag your body onto his, and just like that, his kookiness is forgotten and your focus becomes tethered to the feeling of his breath against your awaiting pussy. 
He blows a few teasing, cool breaths against your dripping core, and before he has the chance to make you succumb to the pleasure of his mouth, you reach out to begin your own enjoyment of his heavy, hard cock. 
His member is veiny and substantial in your hands, reddened tip dripping with beads of precum that you lick away without thought of how it will impact Leehan. You feel his body seize with a jolt of pleasure from the direct contact with his most sensitive body part. 
And as if trying to get payback, he begins his assault on your pussy by sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth.
From there, it becomes a competition of wills, a battle to see who can be least distracted by the pleasure they’re receiving in order to make the other fold, or at the very least, reach their climax. 
It’s a war you feel yourself pitifully losing as your drunken fervor somehow makes every casually overwhelming sensation feel 10x more heightened. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to release with each blissful flick of his tongue against your clit. 
Still, not forgetting about Leehan and his pleasure, you fight through the mental haze of your own gratification and concentrate on making slow, purposeful pumps of his cock within the ring of your hand. 
Sucking Leehan off is an activity you’ve gotten more than enough experience in to know what it takes to make him come. You gather all of the moisture in your mouth and wet his shaft with your spit. You press teasing, chaste kisses on his sensitive tip. You swirl your tongue in circles and continue stroking him with your hand. 
And then, when you can feel his thighs tensing as he grows tired of your teasing, you offer him relief in the form of taking him fully in your warm mouth.
Leehan’s self control is impeccable, even as you’re bobbing your head up and down his cock. He drags his tongue through your folds and finds himself at your hole, licking up the arousal there and fucking you open with his tongue. The only sign he shows of his own impending release are in the groans that he lets out against your mound. You can feel something overwhelming begining to build in your stomach, and though your body tries to squirm away from it, he holds you against his face.
You pitifully moan with his cock fully lodged in your mouth, and with a few final thrusts of his tongue, the knot in your stomach comes undone. As your orgasm overwhelms you, it’s difficult to continue moving your head. 
But Leehan’s too close to let his climax slip away from him, so it’s in desperation that he begins bucking his hips into your mouth at the same time he’s licking you through your orgasm. You just relax your jaw and let out restrained whimpers as Leehan fucks your mouth, not stopping until he finishes with a groan.
“My god, Y/N,” Leehan mutters breathily, turning you both on your sides, unraveling his limbs from yours until you’re no longer skin to skin. “We should do that position more often.”
You nod lazily in agreement, and with the little strength left in your limbs, you sit up to meet Leehan in the middle of the bed for a wet kiss. 
The position is slightly awkward, the two of you laying in opposite directions, twisting your bodies unnaturally, but kissing each other is a habit so addictive that even as you’re pulling away, he pulls at your hair to bring you back in for just a few seconds longer.
It’s comforting to fall back down onto the bed and feel Leehan’s fingers gently caressing the skin of your ankle. In your sleepy, post-orgasm haze, you’re filled with a sudden surge of contement in regards to your decision to come here tonight. 
You feel the fabric of a blanket kissing the sides of your body, and when you look over to find Leehan getting comfy in bed, it’s with satisfaction that you begin to do the same.
But then, the blanket you were just about to pull onto your body is snatched off of your skin, and when you look over at Leehan, you see him tucking himself in with a sleepy, content smile on his face. It’s just as you’re sitting up that he flutters his eyes closed, and with a sleepy tilt to his voice he says, “Hey, if you see Jaehyun on your way out, can you ask him to call me? I wanna know what time he plans on ending this.”
There’s a second after those words hit your ears where you’re not sure if you misheard him, slow to move from where you are in his bed. But as the implications of the statement hit you horrifically and all at once, it’s with a heavy feeling of shame weighing down your body that you reply, “Sure,” going to gather your discarded things from the floor.
The humiliating act of putting on your clothes after being dismissed so casually is almost instantaneously sobering. You catch a view of yourself in the display of your phone and notice that your plastic halo headband has been bent 90 degrees, likely from how rough you were. Your hair is strewn in every direction. Your mascara is smeared and ruined, running down your cheeks in squiggly, broken lines. 
You’re a mess. He made you a mess for the sake of his pleasure. And instead of cleaning you up, Leehan has essentially just kicked you out onto the street.
Only Leehan could cause such a dramatic shift between feeling like you were safe and desired to feeling like you’re just a worthless speck of nothing attached to the bottom of his shoe.
It’s just as you’re about to open the door to leave that you hear him call your name, and with your back turned to him, a hopeful part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say he changed his mind and wants you to stay.
But instead, as if to turn the knife in more, when you turn around, you find him staring boredly at his phone. 
Instead of regret on his face, you see neutrality. 
And instead of asking you to stay, he just says, “Thanks so much by the way. For the sex and the favor.”
It’s with a forced, robotic sense of calmness that you’re replying. “No problem, Leehan.”
And then you leave his room, never feeling so profoundly insignificant than you do in this moment.
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There’s nothing quite worse than waking up with a terrible hangover, a panging feeling of emotional emptiness, and then having to send a string of desperate emails to your professors asking for deadline extensions. But that’s exactly what you do in the aftermath of the Halloween party, and by the grace of all things holy, you’re granted an extra few days to get your assignments in.
So grateful for the chance to resuscitate your failing GPA, you focus your efforts on finishing your assignments and almost forget about the cause of such misfortune, until you’re reminded when your phone suddenly buzzes with a text.
>leehan: what are you doing?
Messages of this sort usually have the effect of leaving you excited and giddy in anticipation of Leehan’s inevitable arrival to your doorstep. But now, all you feel is annoyance as you read the text and plague yourself over what to say. 
You type and delete several versions of a response that ultimately boils down to i’m too busy trying not to fail all of my classes which i wouldn’t be failing if it weren’t for all of the time i spend either thinking about you or fucking you , but in the end, you resolutely decide not to respond at all. 
In fact, in a move surely colored by the resentment you’ve allowed to grow for far too long now, you turn on read receipts so he knows you chose to disregard him on purpose.
You then continue typing away at one of the three essays that are past due, hoping you can forget about Leehan and return to the focus you had before receiving the message and being reminded of the past week’s events. You’re pleased when you look up after a few moments to see that an hour has passed and your attention hasn’t lingered. 
Just as you open a new tab to begin the reading for your second essay, the indistinguishable sound of a knock at your door stirs your attention otherwise.
You look around your shared dorm space. Your roommate went home for break already and hasn’t been here for the past few days. Assuming she communicated that to her friends, you know whoever’s on the other side of the door shouldn’t be for her. 
It could be an RA, though you couldn’t imagine why. 
Deciding to confront your curiosity head on, you get up to open the door and feel your eyes widen when it’s Leehan leaning against the doorframe.
Dressed comfortably in a hoodie and cargo pants, he looks up to greet you, smirking at the sight of your looming silhouette. “Hello,” he says casually, as if his sudden appearance was known to you before now.
There’s a strange mixture of excitement and dread that swirls inside of you the moment you see him. Because on one hand, just a look from him is something that gives you uncontrollable butterflies. You truly do like being around Leehan. But you feel like you have no control over the fact that you will let him in, even though you have every reason not to. 
He’ll fuck you, give you some of the best pleasure of your life, and will leave right afterwards, making you feel shitty. 
You’ll exerience the greatest high followed by the greatest low. 
And already in anticipation of how terrible you’ll feel in the aftermath of this inevitable scenario, it’s as if you’re body is already making space for the knife that will surely tear through your heart when this ends.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, though you already have a strong feeling what the answer will be. 
He’ll play coy, changing the subject by asking another question in response to your question.
“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he says next, even though you both know the true reason why he’s come.
And because you like to feel like you have even the smallest semblance of control over the situation, you don’t give in to him easily, making a face of mock contemplation before replying, “Not if you don’t answer the question first.”
“Did you know that peppermint dwarf angelfish require a very specific type of fish food?” he asks, and because you’re so used to these divertive, weird diatribes he’s always so inclined to go on, all you can do is try and follow along. “I had to come all the way up here to find the only shop in Korea that sells it. And while I was already up here, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by your dorm and say hi.”
You tilt your head as you stare at him, considering bitterly whether he could be telling the truth or not. 
But of course, his serious expression quickly melts into a smirk as he explains himself. “I’m kidding, Y/N. Not about the fishes, but about why I’m here. I wanted to see you, so I came.”
There’s something that’s really disgustingly cocky and self-centered about him just showing up to your door without warning with the unsaid though obvious expectation of sex. 
And yet, would he be wrong to have that expectation, when so many times before you’ve let him for that exact purpose?
He must be able to see the conflicting thoughts you’re having reflected on your expression, because from behind his back, he reveals a bouquet of flowers. You don’t know how you didn’t notice he was holding them until now, a colorful array of peonies and roses with, upon further inspection, a bunch of cardboard fishes placed among the petals. 
You can’t help but smile as you take them from him.
“I brought flowers?” he says, his voice titled in an expression of this being an olive branch, his way of expressing apology, though for what you don’t know. For showing up here unannounced? For putting you through so much obvious emotional turmoil? You’re not sure. 
There is something at least a little romantic about him boldly showing up at your doorstep instead of waiting for you to respond to his text. Though, through another, more cynical lens, you could also call it kind of creepy. Should you go with the latter interpretation, you know you would be sending the worse kind of message by letting him in anyway. You’d essentially be confirming to him that this relationship is on his terms, that he can show up to your place whenever he wants to get his dick wet, regardless of if you’re busy like you are now.
But isn’t that what this has always been between the two of you? Once again, you feel helpless in the face of the unbounding energy his presence causes. You can only watch the rest of the nights events play out like a bad movie you’ve seen far too many times, like you’re a witness from outside your own body and life.
You walk away from Leehan, leaving your door open so he knows he can come in. You place the flowers neatly on the table next to the entrance. It’s when you face the kitchenette of your dorm that you realize just how cluttered the place is; too stressed about your schoolwork, you haven’t put any thought into keeping it clean.
“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly under your breath as you hear Leehan come in and close the door behind him. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”
He chuckles, as if to agree without having to say it plainly and hurt your feelings. You turn to face him and find that he’s already looking at you, a penetrating expression on his face as he asks, “Are you okay?”
You’ve never found that question as hard to answer as it is right now, especially when it’s his voice doing the questioning. 
Should you say that you’re on the verge of failing all of your classes, a circumstance you’ve never once had to worry about until he came into your life, causing a whirwhild of uncontainable emotions to take over your life? 
That you’ve been questioning everything when it comes to your own self-esteem and worthiness because it feels like you’re nothing if you’re not validated by the fleeting yet addicting warmth of his gaze and attention?
In the time that it takes you to think, you realize that Leehan has come closer, his body in front of you so that now you can’t escape from the kitchen counter against your back that blocks you in completely. Dazed by the proximity of him, you forget what you were asked, and are grateful when he doesn’t press you for an answer. It’s better for both of you if you don’t respond, anyway, because your honesty would surely kill the mood.
“You know what might make you feel better?” he asks, and you fight back a cynical giggle at the fact that he doesn’t even have to hear you say it to know that you need to be made better. “Fucking the shit out of me.”
As always, his moments of sudden candor simultaneously make you laugh and cringe because of how ill-fitting they are to the persona he occupies in your mind. You’ve always liked how awkward and strange Leehan is, which is why his fuckboy tendencies have always landed uneasily for you. 
It becomes too easy, then, to tease him by pretending you didn’t hear his outward expression of desire. “I don’t like the way you look at people,” you say, trying your hand at his usual divertive tactics. “It’s like you can see through them.”
You can always appreciate how even when you sidestep his advances, Leehan always plays into your banter, never pressuring you into action. “It’s because I can. BOO!” he exclaims, mouth open in an o shape as he childishly expresses fright. You muster a laugh at his playfulness.
After that, you’re both silent, and you know it’s because you’re both tired of playing games. You’re at the point now where it becomes obvious in both of your piercing gazes that you want to fuck, and now it’s just about who will make the move first. 
Suddenly conscious of Leehan’s long hair and how it hangs over the sides of his face, you reach your arms up to take pieces of it into your hands. There’s a rubber band on your wrist that you use to try and put it in a ponytail so you can see his features better, but before you can finish, he takes the opportunity of your increased closness to kiss you. 
The intensity of his kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, and you let go of his hair before you can finish tying it up. Because of your close proximity, it falls over the sides of your own face, obscuring the rest of the world from you so that it’s just him in your vision. 
His hands rest on the apex of your hips, and he pushes you slightly so that you’re completely backed up against the kitchen counter. You’d thought you’d feel more urgent, but your movements are leisurely as you bring your hands to his hoodie and begin to pull at the buttons holding it together. As the fabric begins to sag off his arms, he starts kissing at your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to accommodate him.
Once his shirt has fallen to the ground, you then work to release his cock from the confines of his pants, pushing at the thankfully loose waistband until it springs out against his naked stomach. You jerk him slowly and leisurely but it causes him to groan into your mouth just the same, and soon he’s moving to unbutton your own t-shirt until you’re both naked from the waist up.
“Leehan,” you whimper, as he cups your tits with both hands, “Bed.”
“Which one? I take it your roommate’s is empty?” he replies jokingly, and when you stare at him scathingly, he chuckles. “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that or I’ll come in my pants.”
You have no chance to scold Leehan for his teasing any further before he’s picking you up off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist and hands around his neck as he walks habitually to your bedroom. He’s still on top of you even as you feel yourself being lowered onto your bed, mouth on yours in a sloppy kiss while his hands rush to get your pants off. He sits up to kick his own off, and now the two of you are left completely naked. 
This would usually be the point where the two of you would become like animals and rush to fuck as soon as possible. But while standing above your body, you watch as Leehan just stares at your still figure on the bed, taking in every detail with his penetrative, admiring eyes.
“I find you so beautiful,” he softly confesses, caressing the skin on your hip before looking up to meet your shy gaze. “Do you know that?”
It’s unclear whether he’s asking if you know that you’re beautiful, or if you know that he finds you beautiful. Either way, it’s in a moment of sincere honesty that you reply, “Only sometimes.”
Because there are days when you look in the mirror or put on your clothes on your way to campus and feel like your body is less of a home, but a prison that you’re forever doomed to occupy.
And with the emotional rollercoaster that is having sex with Leehan only for him to completely ignore you afterward, you’ve naturally found yourself wondering if the only alluring thing about you is that you’ll let him fuck you with no questions asked. That in a school full of beautiful girls with actual self-esteem, he’s settled for you so long as you continue to provide him with pussy.
Leehan furrows his eyebrows at your response, and with a corrective tone of voice replies, “ Always .” In movements that are slow and gentle, he leans down to lay a chaste kiss on your forehead. Another on the top of your cheek. Another on your ear. And then on every single part of your face that you’d normally consider insignificant. And then slowly down your rising and falling torso. 
“Everything about you. I couldn’t pick a favorite thing because I love every single part of you,” he confesses in a whisper-like tone against your skin. Finally reaching your pussy, he places one last gentle kiss at the top of your mound, something about the gesture making your pussy clench, espeically as he says, “You’re my favorite girl.”
To be affirmed by Leehan in this way is something that causes both your heart to swell and your body to pulse with arousal. But it’s also with a surge of sadness that you wish these words didn’t affect you so monumentally. 
A part of you wants him to stop making remarks of this sort to you during sex because you can never be sure that he truly means them.
But if that’s the case, then why do they feel and sound so genuine?
It’s with shaky resoluteness in your voice that you sit up to look at Leehan, replying, “Then show me.”
And, as if spurred on by the challenge, you can see Leehan’s expression changing even with half of his face obscured by your pussy. “How?” he asks, leaning in to lick teasingly against your clit. “Like this?” 
When he doesn’t wait for your answer and continues sucking and licking against your clit, you throw your head back as you enjoy the physical manifestations of Leehan’s attraction to you. 
If there is any time when you feel most desired and liked by him, it’s when he’s in between your legs, devouring you whole like a man starved. 
He uses his mouth not to tell you sweet-nothings, but to give you some of the best pleasure of your life. And it’s in gestures like these where you can wordlessly understand his devotion to you. 
It’s in your desperation to reach your peak that you begin to buck your hips into his mouth, wanting more of him, but he stops it with both hands that snake up your body and press down on your boobs. He tweaks at your nipples in a way that makes your back arch, but in a gesture that surprises you, he also just rests his hand over your chest, right where your heart is. You wonder if he can feel the fluctuations of your pulse, how it speeds up when his tongue does. Dreamily, the thought of him being so in sync with you that he can feel the intimate beatings of your inner organ sends you into a spiral of heightened satisfaction.
“Leehan, I’m gonna come.”
Even with your eyes closed, you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “My favorite four words in the world. Go ahead, baby. I’ve got you.”
Somehow, you think your body needed that permission, because it’s only moments later that your orgasm takes over your body. 
Your eyelids are covered with dancing spirals, your spine bends as you arch up into the air, and your body vibrates with a feeling so pleasurable it’s like an addiction, something you’d endure the greatest emotional lows to receive on a regular basis.
As you still, Leehan gets up to sit on his knees, looking over at your bedside dresser. “Still have the condoms where I left them?”
“Top drawer,” you confirm.
“Good girl,” he praises with a smile, reaching over you to rummage through the drawer and coming out of it with a silver packet between his fingers. 
It’s just as he’s finished putting it on and is about to slide in that you raise a hand to stop him, saying, “Leehan wait. I wanna ride you.”
His eyebrows raise at this, but he nonetheless maneuvers so that he’s in a criss-cross position, saying with a grin, “Woah. I feel lucky. You never get on top. Make me do all the work.”
“Shut up,” you grumble, making your way over to him and holding onto his shoulders as you hover over his hardened cock. But before you can take him, he roughly grabs your chin, squeezing your face in his hold in a way that forces your eyes on his.
“Make me,” he asserts, staring at you so intensely that it makes your stomach swoop. Reaching between your bodies, you grab hold of his pulsing erection and line it up with your hole, sinking down on him and loving the way it makes both of your mouths instantly open on impact.
It feels like you’re being split open in the most pleasurable way as you sit down fully on Leehan’s cock and allow the satisfcation of being filled by him to consume you. Driven by the pursuit of your own pleasure, you bounce, swivel, and thrust yourself against him. And when Leehan throws his head back, beautiful neck on display as he growls, “You’re so tight, Y/N,” you’re motivated to go even harder.
Sex with Leehan has never felt more intimate than it does now, when you’re above him and able to catch every small distortion in his gorgeous expression as he gets taken away by the gratification of this sex. Mantaining eye contact with him is nothing new to you now, but even so, you find yourself feeling like his eyes are admiring your soul more than they are your body or face as you bounce up and down for his viewing pleasure.
With your arms wrapped around his neck, you’re skin to skin, heart to heart, and in a way you almost feel like the closeness grants you the telepathic ability to know what he’s feeling and thinking. If there were to be a physical manifestation of the word yearning , it would be this exact moment between the two of you. 
Your expression melts into a smirk as you continue to ride him, and you feel almost motivated to giggle as the pleasure you’re experiencing makes you feel deliriously satisfied and happy. Leehan, with his hands leisurely rested at his sides, scans your face as if trying to memorize every detail, saying, “You make the prettiest expressions when my dick is inside of you. I truly can’t – nphhh – get enough.”
It’s as you begin to set a pace that has the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot with every bounce that you yearn for him to touch you, to light your skin on fire with the warmth of his touch. Anywhere. Everywhere. “Leehan, touch me .”
And it’s because he’s come to know your body so well, know exactly what makes you tick and what places to touch that have you crying in pleasure, he brings his hand to your clit and starts rubbing incoherent shapes into your swelling bud. Your body feels like it’s on fire, so much so that you begin to lose strength in your trembling thighs, something Leehan picks up on as he says almost desperately, “Faster, Y/N. Take it.”
You have to fight through the strain in your legs and the building tension in your stomach in order to begin bouncing on Leehan so hard it’s as if your life depends on it. And though it feels like it’s taking all of the energy in your body, you do it because you want to make him feel good. 
You do it because you want him to continue thinking of you as his favorite girl, even though that statement in itself implies the existence of other girls. 
Even though it feels like every morsel of your self-esteem is shattered in the process, you do it because his attention means so much to you that it blurs everything else.
“ Fuck , I’m gonna come,” you cry out as the pleasure becomes too much, as it begins to feels like everything else in your vision is obscured except for Leehan.
“Open your mouth,” you hear him say, and although your sex-crazed mind can barely comprehend why he’s asking you that, you comply anyways and feel your arousal growing stronger when, to your surpise, he tips your head back with a hand on your jaw and spits into your mouth.
The gesture is dirty and lewd and yet a moan rips out of you just the same, and the closer that your orgasm inches, the less you feel like you’re in control of your body or your reactions. Every thought and will in your brain has been diluted so that your only objective is to reach your peak.
“You like that, pretty?” he asks teasingly, his own orgasm approaching in a way that causes his voice to come out strained and tight. “Let me see what a dirty girl you are. Come all over my cock.”
Whimpers of his name leave your mouth in broken succession, the robustness of your orgasm milking you until your body quite literally collapses against his. And it’s after giving everything that your body could give, your legs trembling and your body screaming out in exhaustion, that Leehan takes over by thrusting wildly up into you. In search of his own climax, you can only whimper weakly into the skin of his neck and allow him to manhandle your limp body up and down his cock.
“I know, I know,” he coos apolgetically in your ear, fucking up into you hard and firmly. “I”m close. Gonna come inside your pretty little pussy.”
With a last thrust so impactful that it resonates throughout your entire body, Leehan releases into his condom, twisting his hips inside of you before pulling out with a groan. You collapse onto the bed together, and even though you can barely feel anything in the bottom half of your body, even though you have the foreboding inclination that it’ll be hard to walk later, you still can’t help the foolish smile that appears automatically on your face. There is no greater high than basking in your post-orgasm haze.
The stillness of the moments you share after sex is something you cling onto every time, wishing that the universe would mercifully turn those seconds of blissful and intimate silence between the two of you into minutes. But like the distant sound of thunder that lets you know that it’s going to rain, you feel the bed dip with the weight of Leehan sitting up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he sees himself out.
“You made a mess,” you hear him say as he picks at the fabric of your sheets where, sure enough, the white sheets have been soiled grey. The comment gives you slight butterflies, and as you manage a weak smile, about to reply with something snarky, he says, “Want me to stay behind? Do your laundry?”
If only for a few seconds, you allow yourself to consider the possibility that he’s being serious. That for the first time since you met him, he’s actually going to stay behind and take care of you instead of leaving you wet and limp and naked and sad. You hate how good those few seconds of belief feel. That just the idea of how doing something as simple as your laundry could make you feel so fulfilled and wanted.
At first you’re not sure what to think when he leans down to gently caress the hair on top of your head. But then, with an almost pitying expression on his face, he replies, “I’m just joking. If I hang around for too long, how would you miss me?”
There have been lots of times when Leehan has shown his lack of regard for you in his actions, but never in his words.
So to hear him plainly confirm to you that this is all a game to him, that it’s always been his intention to leave you strung out and wanting more, that he knows the emotional impact his absence causes, hits you like a slap in the face.
He doesn’t have to hide how little he cares about you because he knows that no matter how he treats you, you’ll always come back.
Haven’t you proven that exact notion to him time and time again?
“See you later, Y/N,” he says as he’s leaving your bedroom, a statement that he can make with confidence because you’ve shown him time and time again that he can walk all over you and still be guaranteed access to your body, mind and soul.
And as the reality of the situation that you’ve found yourself in hits you all at once, it’s at the sound of your front door closing that you begin to cry on impact.
Tears that feel endless begin to pour out onto your cheeks until you’re open-mouthed sobbing, and because you’ve spent so long holding these emotions back, they wreck your body until you have no energy left and devolve into soundless heaves.
You fall asleep like this, so emotionally wrecked and confused that you forgot about the three essays you were supposed to submit. 
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You’re on the verge of tears as you enter your advisor’s office, sitting down across from the older woman whose passive expression tells you everything you need to know about the sort of news she’s about to deliver to you. But it’s with surprising clarity that you react to her saying, “Y/N, you’ve failed almost every single one of your classes this term.”
You stare blankly at her, processing the emotions that come over you at this news. It’s suprsing to say that the immediate feeling that comes over you is relief, but you owe it to the fact that you’ve been struggling this entire semester, plagued with anxiety as to whether or not you’d fail. And so, to have it finally confirmed after months of stressing about it feels similarly to being in the eye of a storm. 
After struggling for so long, you’re at a vantage point where it feels more comforting to be able to say that all that’s left is for you to fight your way out of the storm entirely. 
“Typically, when students have such large and sudden drops in performance like this, it’s because of some significant life event,” she explains, tilting her head as she looks at you pitifully. “Given that you’re a transfer student, I’m wondering if the transition from your old school to this one had an impact on your performance. Are you finding the academic rigor here harder?”
“No, maam,” you say, shaking your head. Academically, this school has been everything you had been hoping for and more since deciding to transfer. You couldn’t have expected to meet someone who so greatly turned your life around within a matter of months. 
Not sure how to explain the unique set of circumstances leading up to this moment, you vaguely answer, “I’ve just…transparently had a lot going on this semester in my personal life. So I haven’t been as great at prioritizing my classes.”
Humming in understanding, your advisor moves to face her computer. “Well, I’m afraid the next steps are to put you on academic probation for the rest of this semester. Are you aware of what that all entails?”
You shake your head no. Your advisor goes on to explain it to you. “You’ll need to maintain at least a 2.5 grade point average moving forward. Additionally, you’ll be given a tutor – another student who you’ll be mandated to meet with at least once a week to get your grades up.”
There a few telltale clicking sounds from her computer before she’s speaking up again to say, “It looks like the only available tutor for this semester is a student named Han Taesan. Do you know him?”
Admittedly only familiar with the few people who Jaehyun’s introduced you to, you shake your head no. You then have to try and push off the dread that builds inside of you at the thought of having to meet with a stranger once a week for the next two or so months until the semester ends.
You perk up as you watch your advisor’s eyebrows lift in surprise at something on her computer “It looks like he actually has office hours open right now until three. So, after this, I recommend you go see him and introduce yourself. It’s important that you get started right away so that you can begin correcting this situation. The last thing we’d want is for your financial aid to be affected, which – I should mention – will happen if you fail your classes again, Y/N.”
It’s at this warning that the reality of the situation finally hits you. 
As stupid as it now sounds, all of the times when you allowed Leehan to take up so much of your time in lieu of submitting your assignments were aided by a blind faith on your part that everything would work out in the end. 
But it’s in grave realization that you see how much you were gambling with your future by making such poor decisions. 
And with that feeling of shame and embarrassment weighing down on you so heavily, you leave your advisor's office a few short moments later, heading to the library to meet Taesan. 
As you’re leaving, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket and unlock it to read a text that could not be more ill timed:
>leehan: what are you doing?
There couldn’t be any worse moment now than to receive such a message, after you’ve just been told that you could potentially lose your scholarship over your mindless decision making in regards to this man. And for perhaps the first time since you’ve met Leehan, you decide to let go of this manic-pixie-dream-girl image you’ve created for yourself, typing out a message that relays the completely honesty of your current situation.
>you: leehan, i failed my midterms. They’re putting me on academic probation and i might lose my scholarship. I don’t know that i’ll have much time for our “arrangement” anymore.
You stuff your phone back in your pocket right after sending it, caring little to know what Leehan will say in response. 
It’s in realization that you finally decide that making Leehan’s every thought, feeling and desire a priority in your life is a luxury you can no longer afford.
Arriving at the library a few minutes later, you wa;lw inside and observe how empty the place is. You suppose it makes sense given that most students have left for their fall break by now, not beholden to stay behind because of failing grades like you are. There’s a boy sitting by himself at one of the many tables in the library, a laptop and a few books surrounding him. You decide he’s the most likely to be the person you’re looking for and go up to approach him.
“Excuse me, are you Han Taesan?”
The boy, whose hair is uniquely marked by a streak of blonde in the back of it, looks up at you and nods.
“I’m not sure if you got the notification,” you say, pulling at your fingernails nervously. “But I’ve been assigned a tutor and you’re it. My advisor told me to meet with you today.”
Understanding finally dawning on the boy’s face, he puts down the screen of his laptop so he can fully pay attention to you and your presence. “Okay. What’s your name?”
“Y/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and even though everything from his voice and manners should have you inclined to feel less nervous, there’s something about his facial features that have you feeling intimidated. 
He’s quite good looking, but in a way that makes him seem unapproachable. 
“If you’ve been assigned to meet with me, that means you’re on academic probation, correct?”
Something about hearing those words, the assignment of your name next to the phrase academic probation , feels like a knife to the stomach. Still, the only thing you can do is nod grimly, and without intending it, you launch defensively into an explanation. “It’s not something I’m in the habit of, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is my first time, truly, and it’s just because I had a lot going on this semester.”
You expect Taesan to appear annoyed with you, just as you are with yourself when you hear those words leave your mouth. But you’re surprised when instead, he smiles. And when he does, it’s like the intimidating persona you built of him in your head immediately shatters and in place of it, you’re introduced to someone that seems really sweet.
“Listen, I know you’re probably feeling like a total failure right now. I know cause I’ve been there. But you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Y/N. The last thing I want to do is make you feel judged for something that so many students go through,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders to further communicate how little of an issue this is for him. 
“Most of the time, the people I tutor don’t even need me. They’re not dumb, they just were going through something that made them deprioritize their classes. We’ve all been there before. I’m just here to be an accountability partner and help you manage the stress.”
Fighting against all the parts of you that have been feeling shame in response to today’s development, you allow Taesan’s reassurance to wash over you like a cold drink on a swelteringly hot day. 
“You’re…really nice, Taesan,” you reply, thinking of no better way to express your gratitude. “I really needed to hear that.”
“No problem. If you’re free, we can go somewhere else and begin working on those late assignments. I don’t really like staying at the library because we’ll be forced to whisper like this the whole time.”
It’s only at his observation that you become conscious of the fact that you have been indeed whispering this entire time, and it is in fact, very burdensome. “Yeah, you’re totally right. Are you cool with coming to my dorm? I live on campus, in Commons.”
Grabbing his things, he gets up to follow you, and it’s at that moment that you realize just how tall Taesan is. “Sure. Let’s do it.”
Just as you’re about to leave with Taesan, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket once more. And because you completely forgot about your earlier exchange with Leehan, you don’t even consider that the message could be from him until a picture that you’re immediately swiping out of lights up your phone screen.
>leehan: he misses you :((((( [img_6785]
The image in question is a dick pic, a full frontal image with Leehan’s smartly masked face just barely peeking out at the top as he angles his phone downward. 
You go from surprised to disgusted as you remember what the picture is in response to – a candid expression of anxiety about your academic probabtion – and suddenly, you couldn’t be more sure of the negative impact that Leehan has had on your life.
More sure that if you never heard from him after today, it would be the universe's greatest gift.
“Are you okay?” asks Taesan from beside you, and it’s with great gratitude that you observe his reaction is not that of someone who accidentally saw a dick pic on someone elses phone. Steeling yourself from the shock of the unexpected message, you hum an affirmative sounding noise in reply, and with that, you exit the library. 
You walk together to your dorm that’s only 5 minutes away from the library, and as you walk, you discuss a variety of things. How and why Taesan became a tutor, the circumstances which led to you transferring from your old school, and observations on how empty campus seems to be right now. Taesan, a music major, became a tutor once he learned he could get paid for what he already liked to do, which was teach people. The more you talk to him, the more assured you feel about this arraignment and your situation at large. 
More importantly, Taesan has the ability to do something you thought no man or object could be capable of – he takes your mind off of Leehan, and moreover the picture you just received from him.
Arriving at your front door, you can feel Taesan’s eyes on you as he says, “When I started my day today, I would’ve never guessed it would lead me to a girl’s dorm room.” You giggle at the genuinely funny joke, and now, you’re looking up at Taesan as if you’re fully seeing him for the first time. 
In just a short amount of time, you’re learned that Taesan is handsome, smart, nice, and funny. 
Perhaps something other than good grades could come of this time you’re about to spend together. 
In the time that you spend looking at Taesan, still smiling in the aftermath of his joke as you let him into your dorm room, you don’t notice the fact that Leehan is waiting for you down the hallway, armed once more with a bouquet of flowers. 
After last time, he figured surprise visits would be his thing now, especially since he knew your roommate wouldn’t be there to stop him. 
He wasn’t expecting, though, that there would be someone else who would act as a barrier between the two of you. 
Someone who causes unexplainable anger and resentment to blossom unusually in his chest. 
It’s in a blur of confusion – both at himself for reacting this way and at you for being with someone other than him – that Leehan turns around and rushes for the building’s exit before either of you can see him.
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part 4 can be found HERE
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norrizzandpia · 10 months
Note
Can you please write exes to lovers angst with lando
Y’all know the way to my heart with these angst requests
A Second Chance (LN4)
Summary: Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?
Warnings: lots of fights, language, literal screaming matches, lando breaking y/n’s heart while he’s drunk, this ones hella rough when it comes to angst, whata rollercoaster, HAPPY ENDING THO YALL JUST BUCKLE UP FOR THE RIDE AND TRUST ME
Note: i decided to really play with y’all here because you don’t end up knowing what caused them to breakup until the very end, so enjoy 6,000 words of subtle hints and you on the edge of your seat bc I’m evil 😚
Some things were better left unsaid. That’s the mantra Lando repeated to himself every time he felt the urge to pick up the phone and pour his heart out to the girl he let get away.
Some things are better left unsaid.
Some things are better left unsaid.
Some things are better left unsaid.
He was sick of the words, wanting to rip them out of his mind, out of his mouth every time he uttered their syllables. His thumb laid so close to her phone number, he was frightened one wrong move would make the decision for him.
All he saw, not just in that moment but every moment, was her face as he spewed off words of anger, violent insults that held no truth to them.
He wanted to apologize, yearned to hear her breathing as he said the things he had rehearsed in the mirror for God knows how long. There was blood on his hands, her blood, the blood of her being when he killed her spirit and the character he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t live with that.
Couldn’t live with the knowledge he had destroyed the beauty of her happiness, the beauty of who she had been.
Selfish, maybe, but he called her anyway. Whether the apology was for her or for him, he wasn’t sure, he just needed to know she knew that he never meant for those things to tumble from his mouth. He never meant to tear her down when he had spent the entirety of their relationship building her up.
The ringing sounded, it blaring loudly in the quiet of his room. He stared at her contact photo, he never changed it. The picture was one his friend had taken of her as she gazed upon him at the Silverstone Grand Prix, when he got his podium. She was smiling up, looking at him as if he held her entire life right in the palm of his hands.
She had loved him, put her heart in his hands, and he had thrown it back in her face like he was disgusted by it.
His mind was taken back to the moment when, after one ring, the call went straight to voicemail.
Fuck it, he thought, I’ve already called her once.
So, he tried again.
One ring, then voicemail.
Again.
One ring, then voicemail.
Again.
One ring, then voicemail.
By the end of his calling spree, he was sitting up in his bed, the sheets falling down his toned chest as he stared at the brightness emitting from his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up why he was only getting one ring.
The answer that popped up stopped the world around him. He threw his phone down to the side, it falling harshly onto the floor. He stormed from his bed, ripping open his door and throwing on a random hoodie strewn about his couch. His eyes glazed over as he tied his shoes and left the apartment, beginning to run. His running was in vain, however, as he was only trying to run from the thing that got him into this situation. Himself.
The phone stayed behind, lingering on the floor with its screen cracked yet still displaying what had set Lando off in the first place.
The Google search engine painfully informed him of Y/n blocking him.
“How have you been since the breakup?” Max said softly, looking at his best friend with gentle eyes.
Lando looked down to his lap, “I’m doing fine. Getting by.”
Max’s quietness lingered like he knew something.
“What is it?” Lando asked spitefully, sick of feeling like his loved ones were tip toeing around him.
Max sighed, “You’re not sleeping.”
“How do you know that?”
“Life360 shows me where you’ve gone in the last twenty-four hours, Lando. It also gives me notifications when you leave your house. At first, I wanted to stay out of it, but you’re doing it every night, going to random parks and staying there for hours. What are you doing?”
Lando smacked his hand on the table out of frustration, strangers sat close to them glancing over suspiciously, “So, you’re monitoring me now?”
Max scoffed, “Yeah! Your family and your friends are worried for you.”
“Well, don’t.” Lando gave him a pointed look.
Max shoved his face into his hands, “It’s not that fucking easy, Lando. Everyone thought you two were going to get married. You had a ring. Then, all of a sudden, you two ended. The people that love you are obviously going to be wondering about you when shit like that comes out of left field.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Lando began, face heating up, “You don’t think I look at the engagement ring everyday and wonder where I would be today? Maybe engaged to her like I had always wanted? You don’t think I know this shit? You don’t think I have to live with it, sleep with it, exist with it?”
It dawns on Max as he listens to Lando’s every word, “You’re going for walks in the night? To get away from thinking about it when you’re trying to sleep? Trying to distract yourself?”
Lando’s eyes look down once more, “Running. I’ve been running.”
In a rare form of physical affection, Max leans over and lays his hand over his friend’s, “What happened that night?”
Lando flinches, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
His hand is heavy on top of Lando’s as he tries again, “Lando, I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand. What the fuck happened? When are you going to be comfortable talking about it? It’s been five months.”
Something fiery triggers within Lando and Max knows it’s the reminder of how long he’s gone without her, “I know how fucking long it’s been.”
At the gridded teeth and hostile tone, Max relents. He sits back in his chair just when Lando’s gaze is caught behind him. His head turns to see what’s got Lando and he’s met with a woman that looks identical to Y/n.
He breathes out, turning back around to tilt his head at his best friend. Max opens his mouth to say something, but Lando interrupts him by the loud screech of his chair being pushed away from him.
He watches in horror and disappointment as Lando walks over to the woman and begins flirting with her. That smile, which was once reserved only for Y/n, is now exploited to get one singular taste of something like her, however fleeting.
In no time, Lando’s trading numbers with her and returning to the table. He sees the way Max looks at him, an expression that makes him hate himself more, and picks up his things, “If you’re not going to support me, sit across from me and patronize me for everything that’s happened, then I’m fucking out.”
Max laughs in disbelief, “Lando, I don’t know what the fuck happened! Maybe if I did, I could actually help you instead of this fucked up coping mechanism you’ve developed of sleeping with women that look like her.”
Lando snarls at him, stomping off and out of the establishment, texting the new number he’d gained immediately and asking when they were free to come to his apartment.
Max watches him through the window, anger at him dissipating and worry taking over once more for the boy he used to know.
The waitress comes by and drops the check off, three digits staring back at Max.
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INVITE HER!” Lando screams at Charlotte, nostrils flaring as he shoots daggers into her soul.
“WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM? CAN’T FUCKING FACE YOU EX OF EIGHT MONTHS?!” Charlotte yells.
Lando counters, “YOU KNOW I FEEL ABOUT HER! HOW I FELT ABOUT HER! I DON’T FUCKING WANT HER IN THE CROWD OF THE NEW CAR LAUNCH!”
Charlotte rolls her eyes, “WELL, GET OVER IT! IT’S HAPPENING!”
“I’M THE DRIVER, I RUN THE SHOW! I SAY SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE, SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE!”
“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN INVITED, DUMBASS! WE CAN’T RETRACT THE INVITATION NOW. IT WOULD LOOK BAD.”
“I DON’T CARE! FUCK, CHARLOTTE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Spit flies from his mouth, his volume so loud it jostles the walls.
Charlotte, being the strong woman she was and fed up with Lando’s recent behavior, fires back, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S ON THE AUTOMATIC INVITE LIST! YOU KNOW THIS! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”
He lets out a loud grunt, turning around in the room like it’s closing in on him. He’s so in his mind as it suffocates him with memories of her, he steps toward the wall and almost puts his fist through it. However, right before his hand comes in contact, he hesitates.
He can feel Charlotte’s horrified eyes on him as he turns around, chest heaving from the unreleased anger. He can’t fully meet her stare, knowing it’ll break him further.
However, that doesn’t matter as she puts her hands on her hips and whispers, “Who even are you anymore?”
She slams the door on her way out and Lando can hear her lash out at his father, detailing how he needs to get his son in check if Lando wants any kind of continued future in F1. They go back and forth for a moment, Adam standing up for his son in a time where there’s no defending able to be done. His father reminds Charlotte of the relationship she’s cultivated with Lando, reminding her of how she once referred to him as her son, and she’s ready with her heartbreaking answer: he’s not the same person she once knew.
That gives Adam no room to fight back, silence overtaking the atmosphere for a moment before he’s entering the room. Lando sits on one of the many office room chairs, head hanging low as he picks at his fingernails.
Adam sits in the one closest to him, breathing slowly as he tries to gather what he wants to say.
“Lando, what happened that night?” He repeats, reminding him of the countless conversations they’ve had that started with that question and ended with Lando refusing to talk about it.
His son shakes his head, something dying inside Adam once more, “I told you. I’m not talking about it.”
A moment passes before Adam snaps, “Lando! I know you’re hurting and I’m so sorry. But, Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t go on like this forever! This isn’t healthy! She’s not coming back! She’s stopped communicating because she doesn’t want to hear from you! You’re going to need to move on sometime!”
Lando stands abruptly from his seat, his father’s words hitting him hard, “You have no fucking right to say that! You don’t know what’s going through her mind!”
Adam stands to get in his face, “No, but I do know you two were happy, she was happy, and you were in love, and then it was over! People don’t fall out of a love like that if someone didn’t fuck up royally!”
Lando moves to the door, “I don’t want to hear this anymore.”
Adam grabs his arm before he can leave, staring at him with a stone cold gaze, “You keep pushing people away, treating people like shit, and you’ll ruin your career.”
“Who said I even cared about my career anymore?”
As much as he hates it, Lando’s eyes immediately search for her once he and Oscar are let into the room. The new car sits under a drape, a crowd of people standing around it, and, even with all the exciting things around him, he looks for the greatest heartbreak of his life.
He wants to see how she is, see if her eyes are as sunken as his are, if her body is as thin as his. Yet, he fails to see her. He knows she’s here, having seen her acceptance of the invitation on the guest list.
He’s being pulled to the front of the room by PR members, their pushes making him stumble into Oscar’s side as he keeps his gaze locked on the sea of people in front of him.
Time goes by slowly, the ceremony moving easily with applause when Oscar and him roll back the material covering the racing car.
They’re in the midst of an interview, microphones held tightly in their hands as they converse with the reporter.
He’s still distracted, his eyes still searching throughout the party to see her, but he’s called back when Oscar nudges his shoulder, “Sorry, what?”
The reporter smiles, “You’ve just gone through a break up and it seems she’s here. Does that say you two ended on good terms?”
He cries of laughter in his head. The idea that they ended on good terms is the funniest thing he’s heard in a while.
He puts on his fake smile, though, nodding strongly like this isn’t a question that has broken his soul, “Yeah! Y/n and I still talk from time to time. She supports me and I support her.”
He feels as if Oscar is staring at him, as if the entire room is staring at him, as he lies through his teeth. Y/n and him haven’t spoken in a year, her having cut off all contact from the very beginning.
The interview continues, nonetheless, with the journalist accepting his answer without question.
Once they’re done, Lando feels sick. Sick of trying to salvage his image, sick of having to appear at these functions, sick of wanting her back and knowing she’ll never let him in again. He excuses himself quickly, mumbling about needing to use the restroom, before dashing off down an empty hallway and locking himself in a stall.
He sits on the toilet, racing suit falling over the edge of the porcelain bowl as he lays his head in his hands.
He breathes heavily, lungs not taking in enough air, and he feels as if the first tears are about to fall when the door opens and the conversation of two men floods through.
“They broke up, you know?” One of the men states as they begin looking at themselves in the mirror, Lando watching them through the cracks of his stall.
The other one nods, seemingly excited, “Yeah, I’ve never been happier. She’s so hot, we finally have a chance.”
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together. Who are they talking about?
“I know, mate. I saw her tonight. I think she’s still here. You saw that orange dress she’s in? Hot as fuck. It really does justice to that body of hers.”
Lando grimaces at their words.
However, they continue, revealing more about their topic of conversation this time, “Yeah, one hundred percent. Y/n Y/l/n has never looked better. I saw her walk in and I was ready to fuck her instantly.”
The color drains from Lando’s face when her name slips past their lips, their previous words having an entirely different impact on him now. He sees red at their vulgar words, pulling himself from the stall and walking out with a dangerous, cold air to him.
The two men stop quickly, looking at each other in the mirror when Lando sidles up in between them. Beginning to wash his hands, he makes eye contact with both of them.
“Having a nice conversation here, boys?”
The two of them gulp, clearly nervous at the man’s presence. They say nothing, rather letting Lando continue.
“You know, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’ll get with you two. She has standards and, after being with her for five years, I can tell you: you two aren’t it. Keep dreaming, though, yeah? That’s how I got to where I am now, making millions of dollars a year and such.”
He waltzes out, throwing out the paper towel he had grabbed in the middle of his words and nodding at them.
Suddenly, as he stands in the quiet hallway, his demeanor has shifted. He feels lighter. Consciously, he doesn’t know why, but, subconsciously, he knows it’s because he just asserted his dominance over her, his possession. Reminding the two men of how long he was with her, how long he had her, a duration of time they’ll never see, mended his pain for a minute or two.
It comes back quickly, though, when he turns the corner and runs into the infamous papaya colored dress that had laid on the floor of his bedroom many times before. He halts, so does she, and for a moment, the two of them keep their eyes trained on the other’s clothes, not wanting to look up and face something they aren’t ready to face.
Although, cruelly, that moment inevitably comes and Lando’s breath is taken from his lungs at how radiant she stands before him. His eyes trail over her face, the tape that was once holding his heart together now ripping apart at the sight of her. She seems strong, looking at him in a removed manner, as if she truly isn’t there with him at the moment.
His hand hovers over her bicep, fingers tingling as they plead with him to touch her.
“Hi, Lando.” His name falling from her lips, sounding soft and warm, reminds him of why he knew her coming to this, seeing her, would ruin whatever kind of progress he had developed in the year they’d been apart.
His mouth opens, then closes, and he struggles to get words out as his mind races with all the things he wishes to say. Knowing everything he’s tried to tell her is not meant to be said in a place as open as this, he settles for, “Hi, Y/n.”
She smiles at him, completely different from the fury in her features the last time he saw her, and mumbles out, “How have you been?”
He takes a leap, “Been better.”
She ignores it, “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, but it was nice seeing you!”
Y/n tries to slip past him, but he’s quick to grab her arm. Looking in her eyes as if he’s trying to show her the happy memories that now are too painful to remember, he speaks lowly, “Hear me out.”
She shakes her head, “No, Lando. I’ve been done with us for a year.”
“Have you?” He challenges her, staring down at her and willing her to try again.
She rolls her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Yes.”
“Look at me.”
When she fails to do so, he shakes her arm lightly.
“Look at me.”
And when she does, he tilts his head, leaning down to hover his lips over hers, “Tell me we’re done. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”
“That’s not fair.” She whispers, lips brushing against his.
“Why?”
“Because of what you did.”
He looks on at her, their eyes holding the other’s as they relive the moments of that night. They both know there’s no way for him to counter, no way to fight back or fight for when she throws that in his face. What he did to her, what he said to her, has tarnished the trust she gave to him.
He pulls back, breathing in deep when she rips her arm from his grasp and flees further down the hall.
Watching her disappear behind the door of the restroom, Lando curses himself.
Curses the alcohol, curses that night, curses his words, curses the love they had, curses the memories that won’t leave him alone.
Curses the existence of their relationship entirely.
Lando’s never felt confusion of this level before. He stares down at Paige’s, Y/n’s best friend, contact as it calls Lando’s phone.
He hesitantly answers, putting it to his ear slowly, and whispering, “Hello?”
“Lando?” Paige sounds concerned.
Lando shakes his head, attempting to wake himself from the sleep he had just been having, “What’s going on?”
“Y/n is so fucking wasted and, I have no clue what happened between you, but she keeps asking for you. She won’t stop drinking, won’t leave the club, until you get here. I didn’t want to call you, partially because of how late it is and partially because of what’s going on between you two, but, if I’m honest, I’m glad I have an excuse. I’m worried about my best friend and it started when you two broke up.”
By the end of her words, Lando’s already out of his bed and halfway out the door. His keys jingle in his hand as he continues to converse with her, “I’m on my way to pick her up. I’ll be there soon. Just try and keep the drinks out of her hands.”
Before he can hang up, the engine of his car revving to life, Paige interjects, “Lando, one more thing. You’re going to have to let Y/n sleep at your place. She moved out of her apartment a few months ago and has been sleeping on my couch while she finds a new place. But, we have other friends here and I can’t just leave them to make sure she gets into my house.”
Lando nods, “That’s fine, but why’d she move out? She loved it there.”
Paige sighs, “Because she couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere she turned, all she saw was you.”
Lando pulls up to the club, its lights bright and music loud as he spots Y/n and Paige waiting on the curb. He gets out, rushing over to them and not loving the way Y/n seems to be hunched over in pain.
Paige pawns her off into Lando’s arms, Y/n melting into them and clinging to him when he holds her softly.
Paige begins to walk back toward the entrance of the club, “Thank you, Lando! You were always someone I could count on to take care of her. Have fun and please, for the love of God, fix whatever is wrong between you.”
At that, she disappears back into the colorful lights and Lando is left with his girl.
She’s mumbling quiet things into his chest, words he can’t make out as he gently lowers her into the passenger seat of his McLaren. When he’s finished buckling her seatbelt and triple checking that she’s secure in the car, he pulls back, but not before she’s grasping his hand and looking up at him with weeping eyes, “I miss you.”
Three words he’s yearned to hear for so long and yet, now, he can’t take them seriously. She’s drunk, she’s blacked out, and she very clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.
This isn’t real.
He knows that.
But, what if it is?
When they stumble through his threshold, Y/n bolts to the bathroom. He smiles softly at the way she still, even in her drunken mind, knows exactly the layout of his apartment. Retching emitted from the small room and he’s running over, kneeling down beside her as she empties her stomach into the toilet. His hand rubs up and down her back as the other holds her hair back, whispering sweet and soft words of love in her ear.
“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m right here.” Knowing she’ll wake up tomorrow and be disgusted by his presence makes the moment even more tender. He knows what will be lost tomorrow, he wants to savor it now.
Her hand moves from the toilet to grasp his shirt, the material hanging from his waist below her. It hurts to feel her touch, to know she seeks comfort in him, but it hurts even more to think of rejecting her, pushing her hand away. So, he lets it rest there, lets it seep into his skin and burn the area, marking it as her own and reminding him there will never be another girl as precious to him as her.
When she’s done, dry heaving the only thing sounding as she lays against the wall behind her, he sits with his legs crossed to the side. His hands rub her thighs as she recovers, and all he can do is stare at her. Her eyes are closed yet he can picture the exact color of them. He memorizes her nose, its upturn and freckles; he memorizes the Cupid’s bow of her lips, the feeling of the plush and soft skin tattooed on his; he memorizes the moles dotted across her neck and the cleavage of her boobs in her dress; he memorizes her arms, their warmth forever ingrained in his brain after Spa 2021 and she was the only thing he needed; he memorizes her legs, and her hands, her hair, the way her eyebrows are shaped, and jawline he’s wished to kiss again.
For it will be gone tomorrow.
He’s the first to wake up, thankfully. In case she woke up before him, he slept on the couch, her body taking up his bed for the night. He makes coffee with trembles in his hands as he awaits the moment she wakes up.
And when she does, she storms out of his bedroom, striding into the kitchen still in his t-shirt and sweatpants, the items he dressed her in the night before.
“WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?” She screams at him, hands flailing at her sides as her cheeks redden with anger.
“You got drunk and wouldn’t leave the club until I came and got you, so Paige called me.” He responds calmly, knowing how uncomfortable she must be.
She scoffs, “AND I JUST COINCIDENTALLY HAD TO SLEEP HERE?!”
He shakes his head, “No, Y/n. Paige told me you had to sleep here because she still had to make sure the other girls got home safe. She didn’t have the time to get you back to her place herself.”
She quietens down, looking at him with a distant stare, “Did we fuck?”
He reels back, eyes bulging, “NO! YOU THINK I’D DO THAT WHEN YOU WERE WASTED AND IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WE’RE GOING THROUGH?”
“WE AREN’T GOING THROUGH ANYTHING, LANDO! WE ARE DONE!” She fires back.
“YEAH? THEN, WHY DO WE KEEP SEEING EACH OTHER?”
“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NOT LIKE I’M ASKING FOR IT!”
Lando steps closer to her, taking a deep breath, “Last night, you told me you missed me. Is that true?”
“No.”
It hangs in the air, full of lies and deception.
“Yes, you do.”
She groans, “NO, I FUCKING DON’T! STOP TRYING TO HOLD ON TO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT ANYMORE!”
“WE WERE IN LOVE, Y/N! I KNOW YOU STILL LOVE ME IN THE WAY I DO!”
Her hands shoved at his chest, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “THAT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU SAID TO ME!”
Unwillingly, Lando is taken back to the night that ruined it all. Refreshing his memory horrifically.
A YEAR EARLIER
Y/n chuckled as she threw Lando onto the couch, his drunken body landing in an awkward position.
“I’ll be right back, Lan. I’m just going to get you some water.”
He nodded, groaning at the swirling in his stomach. He heard her clank around in the kitchen, getting up and wandering off toward the sound.
When he reached her, he was very quickly overcome with desire and lust for his girlfriend. He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her back to him. He began kissing her neck, spit and slobber coating the skin in an uncomfortable way.
Y/n dodged him, “Lan, baby, I love you, but you’re really wasted right now.”
He hummed, “It’s fine, Y/n.”
He tried to kiss her again, but she slid out from his hold, “No, Lando. Plus, I’m not in the mood.”
He reached out for her, but she moved too quickly for his drunken mind. He groaned in frustration, “Y/n!”
“Lando!” She gave right back, shaking her head at his antics as she continued to fill up his water.
When she gave him nothing as he stared at her expectantly, he said the first thing that came to his foggy mind, “Fine, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”
She giggled, not fully hearing what he was saying, “Sorry, what?”
“I said, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. I’ll just go into my Instagram messages and find someone better, it’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”
He saw the way she slowly turned her head to him, “Lando, what are you say-”
He interrupted her, “Who do you think I should look out for? Someone with a bigger ass than yours? Or maybe with bigger boobs? How about skinnier? Or perhaps with a prettier face?”
She just stood and stared at him, the glass in her hands slowly slipping from her grip, “What the fuck?”
He laughed at her, “Come on, Y/n!” He pulled out his phone, waving it in her face, “Who should I look out for as a replacement for the girlfriend who won’t fucking do shit for me?”
Her hip popped out, his demeanor change blindsiding her, “Why are you saying these things?”
He huffed as he slurred, “Because you’re a fucking shit girlfriend! I’ve put up with it for years, your inadequacy to fulfill me! I’m fucking done. I’m over not being satisfied in everything we do. You aren’t attractive to me anymore, you aren’t funny anymore to me, you just don’t do it for me anymore. Someone, I know, can surely be better than you.”
His words were malicious and hot on his tongue as if he had been waiting to say them. The glass, like her heart, slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet. Shards littered the floor, cutting her bare feet, as Lando began laughing at her, “Oh, perfect! And, now, you can’t fucking hold a glass! Fucking pathetic.”
He waltzed out of the room, as if everything was fine and retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.
There, as she stood in the middle of a wet pool of glass, she cried.
Cried for the pain in her feet; cried for the man she loved; cried for the death of her confidence; and cried for the love that had just been ruined.
PRESENT TIME
Lando remembers waking up that next morning without her beside him, and being utterly confused. That was until he read the text message in which she reminded him of the things he said to her, informing him they were over, she wouldn’t look at his face ever again, and she was already on a plane away from Monaco, to not chase her.
He had never been given the chance to explain to her just how drunk he had been that night, how his words weren’t really his.
“I DIDN’T MEAN WHAT I SAID TO YOU!” He yelled in her face, trying desperately to get through to her.
“DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS, HUH?” She argued, hands pushing against his arms.
“ARE ROOFIED WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS?”
She stopped, taking a step back and staring at him. She was quiet, looking up at him with a newfound curiosity, “What?”
“I was drugged that night, Y/n.” He responded, finally allowing for the truth to come out.
Her eyes softened, looking up at him with the love he knew was within her. She walked back to him, closer this time, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, “Are you okay?”
Testing boundaries, he laid his hands on her waist and when she didn’t protest, he leaned into her fully.
“When I woke up that morning, I had a really hard time reading your text. I got through it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I genuinely felt like I couldn’t see. My vision was fucked. I got up, I wanted to go to the kitchen and drink some water, but my legs gave out under me and I fell to the floor. I struggled to walk, my head ached in a way I never knew was possible, and I puked all over the floor of my bedroom. I, obviously, knew something was seriously wrong, so I called Jon. He came and helped me into his car. I must’ve been pretty removed because he tells me, to this day, that I was mumbling things about you leaving me, shit I don’t remember ever saying. But, anyways, he drove me to the hospital and they did a shit ton of tests. The drug test, that’s how we found out I was drugged with Rohypnol, a roofie. They helped get it out of my system, but I was pretty fucked up for the next few days. And, then, when I truly came to about a week or so later, I realized the gravity of what happened between us, but, obviously, by that point, it was too late.”
His explanation left Y/n feeling slightly guilty. She had been with him that night, it was her job to make sure he was safe as she promised him she would be his designated driver, the sober one.
“Do you know who did it?” She asked to which he shook his head.
“No, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from that night.”
He saw it in her eyes, “Y/n, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known.”
Her eyes watered, “But, I should’ve known what you were saying to me wasn’t you, or even drunk you. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should’ve given you time to explain.”
He nodded his head to each side, “Maybe, but what I said to you was horrific. Of course, you left me.”
She separated herself from him, walking into the living room as she cried. He sat down next to her on the couch, her tears soaking the shirt she wore as she struggled to gain her breath.
He pulled her into him once more, “Y/n, it’s okay. Your actions are justified.”
She shook her head, “No, it’s not that. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s mostly the fact that I spent this past year thinking you never really loved me. What you said to me that night, I’ve never forgotten it and I just spent so much time berating myself for thinking, for five years, you loved me back. I degraded myself over something that was completely manipulated.”
He laid his head on hers as he nodded softly, “I’m so sorry. If it’s worth anything, I truly did love you all five years. I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”
She pulled back, hands on his chest as she stared at him, “I still love you even if those words still haunt me.”
“Don’t let them, please. The fact that they came out of my mouth is enough. Don’t let them have any kind of value. You were and are the love of my life. There’s no one like you, Y/n. No one who could be better suited for me. You are more than enough for me. You’ve satisfied me in every part of our relationship. What I said that night, it couldn’t be farther than the truth. I could never fall out of love with you ever. There is no one I want to take up the other part of my bed than you.”
She wiped her tears, “What about those girls you were seen with this past year?”
He shook his head, “Didn’t hold a candle to you. Not my finest moment, baby. I’m sorry for it.”
“No, you don’t have to apologize for trying to move on, I just want to make sure you’re in this with me.”
He threw his head back, “Of course, I am. I’ll always be all in if you are too.”
She lightly smiled at him, returning to her spot against his chest as he laid them back against the cushions.
They laid there with each other, in silence, until the afternoon. Something that was once broken, now whole. Something that was once destined to end, now beginning again. Something that was once messy and complicated, now clear. Something that was once mistrusted, now fully capable of any challenge.
Maybe Lando could put that engagement ring to use now.
1K notes · View notes
yuansie · 5 months
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the greatest gamble of all
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pairing. aventurine x gn! nameless! reader
synopsis. aventurine knows that he is unworthy of love, unworthy of you. because he, aventurine, is a tainted person and kakavasha is but a person with no future for himself. in both of his names, he is unworthy of you.
genres/aus. actually idek what type of au this would fall under saurrr idk what to say ummm friends to something more (?!), romance, pining, angst with a happy ending, smidge of fluff at the end
warnings. slight (or maybe not so slight at all?) spoilers about aventurine's background, mentions of death and murder, very sad and insecure aventurine, crying, slight displays of affection (a neck kiss?!), ooc aventurine ?! (bc im still doing the penacony quest HAHSHAJ)
wc. 1.6k
a/n. me when i only write about aventurine because aventurine is love, aventurine is life. also, i just have some serious brainrot for that man he deserves everything and more i love him sm !!!! also. aventurine this wednesday im SOOOO excited i need him NOW. will be skipping my first class so i can do his trial LMFAO and this NAWT edited !! (when will i ever edit something?? idk. whenever i am not a busy uni kid) the aventurine art was made by @/20231102thu on x (twitter) !!
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AVENTURINE IS FULLY AWARE THAT HE ISN'T SOMEONE DESERVING OF, well, anything. he’s just someone that aimlessly wanders this world, not having a set destination. he doesn’t have anything worth living for.  he doesn’t have a home to return to because home means returning to a place filled with warmth and love. 
he does not remember the last time he felt his heart warm up, he’s not even sure if he’s even felt warmth. it is but a distant memory filled with sadness, such sorrow that makes his heart weep without knowing it. though, nowadays, he doesn’t feel like that. there’s just an emptiness in him, but he doesn’t mind it anymore. after the events at penacony, he’s just been… lost.
he hears a door open and slide shut, followed by the sound of footsteps. then, he senses someone standing right next to him as he gazes out the windows of the astral express. you spent a long time convincing the conductor and himeko that aventurine should be a guest, and you finally wore them out with your pleading after a good amount of hours. 
“penny for your thoughts?”
aventurine glances at you. your wounds from the battle are still healing, he notes, given by the bandages that wrap around your forearm and head. sunday will have to meet his fury on another day. “just thinking that this is a nice place.”
you chuckle, “it is, isn’t it?”
all he does is hum in response, still staring out in the vast expanse of space. he likes how the stars look and as his eyes linger on penacony, he wonders if his home looked similar to that. he wouldn't know because he never saw how it looked when he left and never will. his thoughts don’t linger on that much when he instead focuses on the way your fingers brush against his hand. he flinches and stares wide-eyed at how you easily grab onto his hand, a dirty piece of flesh undeserving of the warmth that radiates from your skin and seeps into his own.
“aventurine—”
“kakavasha.”
“hm?” you tilt your head to the side, blinking at him in confusion.
he wants to look away from you, from your eyes. but he wills himself to keep looking and somehow, he ends up gripping onto your hand tightly. you don't complain and instead squeeze back, patiently waiting for him to continue.
“my name is… kakavasha.” aventurine feels his stomach twist and turn at your silence so he continues to speak, “i just thought… that you should know it before it’s completely gone.”
“and why do you say that?”
“it’s a name meant to be forgotten in the sand.”
your response is so quick that it almost gives him whiplash. “no it isn't.”
“excuse me?” he blurts out, surprised that you even said such a thing about him.
“it isn't a name meant to be forgotten in the sand,” you say, a certain calmness in your voice that has aventurine waiting with bated breath at what else you have to say. “it's too pretty to be forgotten and, well, it's your name.” 
and then he feels his face heat up; his ears, neck and cheeks feel like they’re burning up.
“kakavasha,” you hum, smiling, “kava, for short. it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”
it does have a nice ring to it, but only because you're the one saying it. aventurine merely nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. he looks away and stares outside the window, not wanting to look at you anymore because he fears this warm feeling will take over his entire being.
a nice silence blankets over the two of you, one that you break after a while.
“what’s the story behind your name right now? aventurine… why are you called that now?”
“because kakavasha had no future,” he replies, “kakavasha didn’t have a future, he didn’t deserve to live either. who i am now, aventurine, does.”
“kakavasha deserves to live too.” aventurine turns his body to look at you, blinking in surprise. “i don’t know how you got that thought in your head, but kakavasha deserves to live just as much as the person you are now.”
“but aventurine is tainted. this name has too much blood on it, too many sins on it. the person i am now doesn’t deserve to live either. kakavasha should be a name buried in the sands of time while aventurine should be burnt to a crisp for the things i’ve done.”
yes, he is tainted. his body, his everything is tainted. it is marred by an ugly color, a stain of who he was and is, never to be cleaned. aventurine lets go of your hands, worried that you might also get stained by his sins. he should drive you away now before the aching in his small heart decides to cling to you and the warmth you give him. he will tell you his story, tell you about the mark on his neck, tell you how he killed the man that bought him, tell you about how he is a tainted person. he is a tainted person unworthy of you, unworthy of that love you hold.
he may have never experienced love. after all, all of his past relationships were purely physical. no one cared about going deeper beyond his facade, they all just wanted a fun night. so while he has never experienced it, he is no fool. he can recognize that the emotion in your pretty eyes when you look at him is love. you love aventurine, the him who has betrayed and used you and your companions in one way or another on penacony. he doesn’t understand why and maybe he never will because the mere fact that you feel something towards him is so bizarre.
so he should ruin whatever it is that you love about him and tell you the truth, taint your rose-colored view on him. aventurine needs to do it now before his heart tells him not to. he knows his heart is already lovesick, so needy of that bit of love it has received from you. his heart wants to hold on tightly to you and drown in you, drown in those feelings of yours. his tiny heart wants to love you too, it wants to love you just as much as you love him. he wants your everything to consume his entire being.
but after he tells you the truth, you will leave and you will be the first and last person he’s loved. you will be the first and last person to somehow climb over the tall walls he’s built around himself and crack open the facade he’s made.
but what if… what if you stay after everything? what will happen then?
it is that small hope that he ends up clinging to.
if he is blessed gaiathra, if he is lucky, then what if… what if this is his greatest gamble of all? a gamble of love: will he lose you or will you stay?
aventurine has made up his mind despite the rational part in him telling him to not even do it, yet he does. the words flow out of his mouth easily, though his heart weighs heavy in his chest. he expects to you leave, he really does because who would want someone as ugly as him? but the tears that leaves your eyes and roll down your cheeks catches him completely off guard.
“why are you crying?” he asks, his hands reaching out to hold your arms.
your lips quiver and a hand grabs onto one of his while the other reaches out, fingers stopping before they touch his neck. aventurine leans in without thinking and a shiver goes up his spine when your fingertips gently graze the marks on his neck. you rub over the marks, “you didn’t deserve any of that, kakavasha.”
“if i could, i would take this from you and any pain you’ve felt and will feel. i would take away all of the unpleasant memories that plague your mind. for you, i would do anything.” 
his knees buckle at your words and you both tumble down to the ground; he ends up being on top of you. your eyes widen when aventurine’s own tears begin to rain down, some falling onto your cheek.
“why would you say something so cruel to me?” he mutters. “don’t give me false hope. you should leave now before you do it in the future.”
“why should i leave the man that i love?” you purse your lips, your eyebrows furrowing.
aventurine shoves his head into the crook of your neck. “i am undeserving of you. i’m lesser than everyone in all of these galaxies.”
“you are not lesser than everyone,” you grumble, raking your hand through his blond hair. “everyone is the same because at the end of the day, we all want to love and to be loved.”
“i’m afraid i won’t be able to leave you now.” he hears you laugh softly, saying how his eyelashes are tickling you. he decides to get impossibly closer to you and bat his eyelashes more, smiling at the sound of your laughter growing in volume. “you’re stuck with me, so don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
aventurine’s breath gets stuck in his throat. he feels your lips brush against his neck. “i think the one who should be saying that is me… say, promise me you won’t leave?”
“shouldn’t i be saying that?”
“kava, promise me.”
“i promise. will you promise the same thing too?”
“yes, i promise that i won’t leave you.”
kakavasha, a name forgotten in the sand, was dug up and remembered, held in the hands of someone that treats like the most precious thing. kakavasha, who had forgotten how it felt to love and be loved, remembered the feeling because of a single person.
and kakavasha, blessed by gaiathra, won his greatest gamble of all time. he won you and your love, something he will now protect and hold onto tightly.
774 notes · View notes
hwanchaesong · 4 months
Text
Ephemeral (Second Chances)
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pairing: Yang Jungwon X F!Reader
synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.
word count: 12.1k
genre & warnings:fluff, angst, suggestive (borderline smutty), summer break setting, pet names, cursing, drinking, lots of arguing, bickering, tension and jealousy, themes of engagement and marriage,miscommunication, Yeonjun of TXT as your brother (his gf here is unnamed), other idols' names are used, making-out, slight dry humping, tell me if i missed some
a/n: first up is our jungwon bc why tf not lmao. next up would be probably be ni-ki's. this is a part of Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels. enjoy the ride! all likes, comments & feedback (esp this one, i love love love reading y'all reactions. legit gives me the serotonin boost) and reblogs are much appreciated ✨
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The revival of the scorching sun is the mark of your independence from the tiring university life. Yet here you are, head hotter than the temperature outside that the air-conditioning couldn't cool it down.
"Are you fucking kidding me!?" you whisper-yelled at your brother with a staggering amount of self-control not to slap him silly for failing to tell you a very important information beforehand.
He held his hands up in defense, guilt written on his face and you almost forgave him when he gave you the puppy eyes.. but no can do.
"I take back what I said, I won't do it anymore." you solidly declared, turning around on your heels to leave the kitchen where you dragged your brother to have a 'private' conversation with him.
"Y/N! I really need you for this one." he held you back, latching onto your arm and if it's not a consequential deal then you'd probably guffaw at how he comically dropped on his knees, begging you for a favor.
"Yeonjun! I- let me go!" you tried pushing him away to no avail, his yowling further annoying you.
"No! Not until you g-"
His fussing were cut off when an eerily familiar voice resonated throughout the room, putting an end to the squabbling that is currently taking place on the shiny, vinyl floors of the kitchen.
"Yeonjun-hyung, is everything okay?" the intruder asked, making your sibling stand and fake a smile, waving his hand nonchalantly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Jungwon! Hi! Um, yeah, superb haha! Don't you think so, sister?" your fumbling brother turned to you, grinning but you take note of his googly eyes, silently notifying you to play nice and go along with him.
"N-" you yelped when you felt a stinging pinch on your arm, again, doing your best to conceal the unwavering indignation you're feeling. "Yes, don't mind us. You can go back to wherever you came from. We'll be out there shortly."
You felt his eyes on you, but you were adamant to not meet it, focusing on a piece of apple that was sitting on the counter instead.
The younger boy shrugged, muttering a small 'okay' before walking towards the living room again.
You face your brother, and he knows based on the shine in your eyes that you're pleading him to spare you, to look for another person who can help him because you don't want to go through this.. you don't want to go through him.
'High school sweethearts', was the category of your relationship back then.
The president and vice-president of the student council. The academic achiever and the sports champion. Yang Jungwon and L/N Y/N, a match made in heaven.
That's what everyone thought, if they want to talk to you, they just have to look for Jungwon and bam! You'll be right there as well. It was a common notion for you two to be inseparable, a matching set, the missing puzzle pieces that completes the picture.
You both knew that you were too young to be settling down, yet the assurance of being each other's endgame outweighs any lingering doubts.
Then on one fateful day, an incident happened. You dramatically gave it the title of 'Graduation Encounter: The Blessing of the Year.' (your friends were actually baffled on how you're able to name it like that, but they gaslighted themselves into thinking that maybe, this is your coping mechanism for dealing with heartbreak.)
You wanted to give him a gift after the ceremony, then you found him talking to his friend in the student council's room. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, and you're glad you did.
"Jungwon, do you see a future with Y/N?"
"No."
You heard his answer loud and clear to that damned question, and that was adequate for you to be crumpled, like the precious handmade present that you were holding.
That same night, you broke up with him through text. Not brave enough to face him in person but courageous enough to send him a long ass paragraph about what you learned before blocking him for good.
Then you did your best to avoid him like he's the plague. To forget him like that one sock you've probably hid somewhere but really didn't bother to look for until it flew outside your memory. Really, a vision of him brings you nothing but hurt and anger, also a terrible headache because you cannot fathom how he was once your beloved.
You did think that God loves you because Jungwon actually went to a different city to pursue his dream major in college, freeing you from his shadow. He won't be associated with you anymore and he'll be nothing but a mere nightmare that once haunted you in your peaceful slumber.
And now, you feel like the cycle is back to zero since you've had a glimpse of him. Like, all of your efforts to move on from him were nothing but trash, washed down the drain. Seeing him once more had you reeling into the hate shackle that he'd put you in.
"Y/N." Yeonjun called your name in a gentle manner, patting you on the head while he speaks to you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I regret that, but please, you're the one I trust the most. I can't possibly ask anyone else. Besides, you don't love him anymore, correct?"
... He has a point.
What the fuck are you even grumbling about?
How could you forget the promise that you made to yourself while you burn the letters and photos that he gave you, watching the fire engulf the memories that you previously held dear.
'The next time I see him, no more feelings are attached. He won't affect me anymore. I'll act casual, make him realize that I can live without him."
You concurred, steeling yourself from the upcoming escapade that you're about to embark on.
"You know what Yeonjun," you removed his hand on your head, crossing your arms as you gave him a poised smirk, "get your ass ready 'cause imma bestow you a showstopping wedding proposal."
You're confident, it's been a year since you've hung around Jungwon. Surely, you can keep all of these as strictly professional. You're mature enough, probably him too, it's not like he's gonna go and be a total hazard.
Right?
....
Wrong.
You were severely mistaken because the man is insufferable.
He's cocky and assertive, always has something to counter your suggestions and not to mention, a huge basher.. and you're getting tired of it.
He got your number yesterday when you stupidly agreed with your brother's pleas, thus, you're sitting here in a comfy café with a boy that you've assumed to never cross paths ever again after he messaged you last night for a meet-up and brainstorming session.
You kind of understood why your brother got him to assist with the proposal, given that he is Yeonjun's best friend, automatically making him the best man for the future wedding.
But still, he doesn't have to be so passive-aggressive about this. You're doing your best to be civil with him, so the least that he could do is treat you with respect as well.
"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this." you muttered, taking a deep breath and getting yourself ready to say another proposition when he interrupted your train of thoughts with a rather sarcastic reply.
"I mean, it's you so.." he trailed off, taking a sip of his iced coffee and you are so tempted to choke him at this point.
"Dear god, Jungwon you-"
He cuts you off when he suddenly whipped up the surprised pikachu face, "Finally! You've decided to call me by my name. That's the first step."
You squint your eyes at him, losing your cool at his unreasonable attitude, "What the hell is your problem?"
He feigned shock, clutching his chest as some sort of what you'd like to dub as tasteless acting, "My problem? Oh, miss, it pains me to know that you're blissfully unaware of your rude tone, sassy mannerisms, and not to mention the stink eye you've been giving me ever since you arrived here."
You straightened up from your seat. Were you really acting that way?
Pride must be your greatest friend, letting it fly high that it made you neglect the ethics that you've recited in your head a million times in order to be in a state of zen for this meeting.
"Don't play games with me now." you muttered, glaring at him and it drove you up the wall to see him scowl at you.
You haven't been in contact with him ever since the.. separation, and magic happened it seems, suddenly he appears in front of you out of thin air like a bunny hidden inside a fancy tall hat.
Except that the bunny is a complete 180 of what was supposed to be a sweet and little cutie patootie. You are well aware that change is inevitable. Yang Jungwon won't be the same person as he was before. What's infuriating you though, was the fact that he has the balls to be this brusque.
He sighs in defeat and it makes you even more confused, irritatedly staring at him as you wait for him to spout some more nonsense.
"I owe Yeonjun hyung a big one." he speaks, tone calm and it irks you how he's able to compose himself that fast, "I know we did not end on good terms, but I want to help him as much as I can. He's an important friend to me."
First, you'll give him some credit. He does acknowledge that the whole situation sucks because your past is something that one cannot simply overlook.
Second, Yeonjun is your brother, of course you'd want to lend a hand for him too.
Third, if this guy can go to great lengths for a person that he values then why didn't he-
You blinked, stopping yourself from continuing that thought. There is no fucking way you'll complete that dreadful rumination you're brewing inside your precious brain.
"Then what do you suggest?" you watch him smile in triumph, the first since your rendezvous. And as much as you hate to admit it, you did miss that joyful vibe he'd always emit.
Finally, he laid out the plans that he had painstakingly plotted the moment Yeonjun asked him about the perfect wedding proposal.
You listened intently to Jungwon, mindful of the schedule and divvying up the work, also making a mental note of your own ideas that you might pitch in later on.
Your brother will ask his girlfriend next Wednesday, during her birthday party celebration. That means that you only have a what? A fucking week to get everything done.
"That's it." he finishes his rambling, glancing in your direction and giving you ample time to take in his word vomit.
You are willing to put the bitterness behind you if it means that you'll see your brother happy and satisfied. He deserves that much, after all the love and support he has given you, it is only natural for you to return the benevolence he had showered you with since you were born.
You stood up from your seat, extending your hand to the curious man in front of you, "We'll do that and the things that I will also say at some point." you smile, having half a mind to compliment him for the meticulous planning, "You never lost your touch when it comes to creating blueprints, Mr. President of the Student Council."
He smirks at your unforeseen flattery masked in irony, accepting the handshake and not missing the chance to throw a jab in, "And you're still good at heeding my orders despite your nature of splashing it with your own ideas, Ms. Vice-President of the Student Council."
Your eyes widened, caught-off guard by his witty teasing.
Amidst the quiet coffee shop where the calming classical music surrounds the serene space, an imminent cyclone forms as the two former lovers, turned partners-in-cupid, stand with their hands clasped in harmony, regarding each other in a pique.
Game on.
---------------------------------------------------
Day 1: Choosing a venue
You scanned the area thoroughly, a sense of merriment filling your heart while you observe the shades of green colliding in the small yard. Butterflies scattered around, the variety of plants and how they're trimmed and grown to perfection created a scenery of paradise. Not to mention the elegant fountain in the middle. (You could only chuckle at the thought of your brother gawking at the said piece of art.)
You're currently standing in a garden, the chosen location for the upcoming surprise, waiting for Jungwon to finish his business with the owners. He's the one who found the site in social media, thus, you made him do the honor of negotiating.
It was located in the countryside (2 to 3 hours drive from home), near the beach and the way the wind carries the ocean breeze brings a nice touch of freshness. It's tranquil in here, away from the bustling city and no gossip girls will appear out of nowhere.
You sat down in the wooden bench, taking a sip of your earl grey tea and sighing in contentment. Yeonjun would love it here, you also do think that the place is nice, and if you would be given the chance to choose a location for your own wedding engagement, this will definitely be your top pick.
"That's great! Thank you so much for giving us the spot next Wednesday."
Jungwon's distant jabbering snapped you out of your reverie, turning on your seat only to find him already focused on you, then he made a tiny gesture, telling you to come and meet the owners of the garden. You gave him a blank stare but obliged nonetheless.
You straightened your outfit, walking in his direction and coming face to face with the kind-looking elderly couple who's strangely gazing at you two with mirthful expressions.
"Good afternoon, I'm Y/N and-"
The older lady spoke, her sentence bamboozling you to no end.
"Is this the wife-to-be? Oh my god, she's gorgeous! You have a nice taste young man." she exclaims with a big grin, taking your hand in hers and shaking it vigorously.
"I have to agree with my wife here. You two are lovely together." her husband smiles as well, having the same opinion as his spouse.
"Oh no. Ma'am, sir, we are not- that's not..." you trailed off, awkwardness coursing through your veins and you had to get help from the equally bewildered man beside you, your whole body language begging for him to say something.
"I'm sorry to disappoint, Mr. and Mrs. Shin, but we're not together. It's actually her brother who's going to be engaged soon." Jungwon finally clears the confusion, a perplexed demeanor coming off from the pair.
After a while of explaining, the owners apologized for the misunderstanding, to which you easily accepted and even made a lighthearted joke about it. When everything's been settled, the place booked for next week's agenda and the duo promised to accommodate you to the best of their abilities, it was time to say farewell.
You made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car, peeping behind the tinted windows and being intrigued as to what they were discussing on the porch.
Right as you were about to leave, Mrs. Shin pulled Jungwon back to ask him a really important question. He had to usher you to go back first, but your inner detective conan was about to be let out of prison when you saw his scandalized facade just as the old woman whispered in his ears.
You witnessed how his ears turned red, the usual shy mien he had always sported back during highschool making an appearance, his adorable dimples showing when he pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing at what you can assume are ridiculous questions coming from Mrs. Shin.
You're a cat, a curious one at that, so you gaped at him when he entered the vehicle without so much of a word, revving the engine on and driving away.
Jungwon's right eye twitched when the irk of your not so subtle leering at him eventually provoked him to actually start a conversation with you.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
You puffed and glared at him, "The only thing that is wrong here is your attitude."
Jungwon visibly seethed through his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter, "Y/N." he called your name firmly, and believe it or not, his tone managed to create shivers down your spine. "Speak, we don't have all day."
"Well.." you bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed by your petulant behavior a few seconds ago.
"Well what?" Jungwon urged, momentarily glancing at your feeble figure.
"I was curious about what you were talking about with Mrs. Shin back there." you admitted with a small pout on your lips, evading his deriding eyes as you busied yourself with the enchanting terrains outside.
The sun had begun to set, casting a bright orange color across the skies, painting even the blue water seas with its beauty. A magnificent landscape, but your anxiety obstructs you from enjoying the view.
You heard Jungwon chuckle, and you were about to protest when he reassured you in the calmest way possible, "She was asking regarding Yeonjun hyung and his girlfriend. Nothing for your pretty little head to overthink about."
A certain word caught your attention, rotating your head a bit too fast that you almost had a whiplash, "Pretty? You think I'm pretty? Jungwon?"
He's smart enough to realize that you're doing this to rile him up.
"Y/N, I need you to shut up."
Day 2: Decoration and props
"No, we don't need that." you pinched the bridge of your nose when Jungwon picked up another set of balloons on the shelf, turning a deaf ear to his childish complaints when you rejected another item that he had deemed critical for the party.
"No fair!" he grumbles, pawing the objects in the cart, "All of the things in here are the ones that you've picked! You've never given me a turn to select at least one decor!"
You fight the intrusive necessity to abandon him in the aisle, personally wanting to save your crumbling image as the people around you begin to murmur at the commotion that Jungwon is causing.
"Alright! Alright!" you felt routed, you can never win against his juvenile stubborn personality, always having you at its mercy and if you tried to resist it, an impending doom is bound to happen.
"We'll pick one decoration of your choice, okay?" you showed him your index finger, shoving it into his face to reiterate your point, "Just one."
The way he cheered was akin to that of a child who was allowed by his mother to eat ice cream after winning a spelling bee competition. You shook your head at his antics, slightly laughing at his peppy steps as he sauntered towards the kids' birthday area of the store.
You begrudgingly followed him, grimacing at the item in his hand. You were about to nag the hell out of him, to question him the purpose or importance of some multicolor whistle blowout in a formal event.
But you stopped when you felt a tiny tug on your pants, squealing in delight when you were greeted by the cutest human being on earth.
"Hello little guy." you crouched down to match the child's height, your former frustration melting at the sight of his puffy cheeks and red eyes, probably from crying. "Are you lost?"
The youngster nodded his head a yes, and you couldn't help but coo when he made grabby hands at you, letting you know that he wanted to be carried. And who are you to say no to an angel?
At this time, returning the kid to his parents becomes your priority, "What's your name?" you gently asked the boy in your arms, swinging slightly from side to side in an attempt to further pacify him.
"Sunoo." he murmurs from your shoulders, sniffling and for a moment he gazes at you like he's in some deep thought, then he slapped your cheeks in his chubby hands, "You're young mommy."
You don't know if this is a compliment or not, but you smiled either way, thanking him and you're about to proceed to the security when Jungwon went and made his forgotten presence known again.
Sunoo shrieked when Jungwon blew the damned party horn, the tube unrolling and hitting the child in the face. For a minute you were so tempted to chuck Jungwon into a ditch, getting nervous at the thought of Sunoo crying... thank god he didn't.
The young one liked an element of surprise it seems, clapping his hands excitedly and spurred Jungwon (the child called him young daddy and you nearly gagged) to do it again, to which he did, causing Sunoo to erupt in a fit of giggles.
Something in your heart clenched while you watched the two interact, it was thumping rather loudly in your chest, reminding you of the dead and buried daydreams that you once had.
You'd be lying if you said that you never imagined a family with Jungwon. You'd be fooling yourself if you said that you've never pictured Jungwon as a part of your future.
The future that he said he couldn't see with you.
Rage suddenly shoots in and replaces the melancholic emotions you're in, and Jungwon felt that when your eyes are literally shooting him through his skull. His play time with Sunoo came to a halt, peering at your upset form and he frowned, inquiring if you're okay.
You refrain from meeting his brown orbs, giving only a hum in response and that made Jungwon's frown deeper.
The kid pouts, looking back and forth at the two adults, "Is young mommy and young daddy fighting?"
"No," you answered immediately, "we're not. Everything's fine honey." you tried your best to smile, albeit strained, "How about we find your parents, hm?"
You found the perfect way to escape Jungwon's piercing gaze, leaving him alone with his thoughts. You wouldn't be able to keep up with his interrogation and you'd rather die than be upfront with him.
This is not supposed to bother you. You must remain poised and rational at all times, a reminder that you kept on repeating inside your mind while you escorted the child to the security, having them announce the presence of Sunoo into the intercom.
After a few minutes of waiting, his parents finally arrived, thanking you profusely and as a way to show their gratitude, they happily paid all of your bills in the shop. (Jungwon stayed in the halls, giving the reason of not wanting to leave your cart unattended.)
You bid your goodbyes, promising Sunoo to visit him when you have the time. His mother and father were kind enough to give you their phone number and address, and it was your turn to thank them for giving you the opportunity to see Sunoo whenever you wanted to. They waved it off, saying 'our son was attached to you, he'll surely cry his heart out if he's not able to see you again.'
After the parting, the worst part that you're abstaining from followed, the stillness inside the vehicle was suffocating, and anybody with eyes can clearly tell how palpable the tension is.
You distracted yourself by counting the droplets of rain that fall on the window, listening to the buzzing radio, anything to brush the unsettling vibes aside.
The car went to a halt on the side of the road and you were stupefied at the abrupt break, you turned to reprimand the driver but you noticed that he was doing nothing but to stare ahead of the empty, wet pavement.
"Are you uncomfortable with me?"
He was direct, not fumbling around with his words and it made you hate him. How can he be so brave when it comes to confrontation?
"Let's just go. We're wasting time here."
Sidetracking was what you were best at, and that made Jungwon clench his jaws hard, will you ever change?
"Y/N, answer me." it was a ticking time bomb, the sudden change in your mood a while ago was a big mystery to him, and he'll never lay it off until he learns the reason why.
"Why should I?" you deadpanned, acting clueless to genuinely irritate him.
"Because we're not leaving until you answer me. You have two choices, Y/N." he's motionless, but you weren't, and you're about to do the most clichéd shit out there.
Yes.
You glanced at him for a second, gave him a resentful smile, then you exited out of his car, not paying any mind to Jungwon's shouts for you to come back. You were adamant to trek your way home if it means that you won't have to stay in that asphyxiating conflict.
A yelp escaped you when Jungwon harshly jerked you to cease your movements, your back bumping into his sturdy chest as he held you by the arm.
"Let me go." you demanded, not having the energy to struggle in his grip, you reckon that it'll be useless because Jungwon is much stronger than you. Ain't no way you're squandering your energy over a futile endeavor.
"Is it really that difficult for you to be with me?" he whispers and you've gone frigid, did he really say that with such dejection?
"If you are not comfortable with me, I could tell Yeonjun hyung. You wouldn't have to spend your time with a person that you.. hate."
It physically pained Jungwon to utter that dreadful word, but if it makes you feel better then he would gladly swallow the numbing pill, he won't say it out loud, but your happiness will always be his priority.
And you think you're being selfish, of course, the break-up did not only affect you, it must have damaged him too.
Undeniably, you need to knock some sense into your brain.
"I'm sorry," you shuffled around until you were facing him, "I'm being absurd. I was-" you took a deep breath, "I was reminiscing, okay?"
You didn't have to tell him more, he understands. He always did, even during your darkest times, he was the only one who could bring you out of your emotional shell.
Jungwon held his pinky out, "Tell me when your reminiscing gets too much, I'll give you space. For now, let's be casual, yeah?"
A hint of the corner of your lips quirking up made him feel like a champion, intertwining your pinky with his in a small-scale pledge.
It's thorny for it was not attended for the longest time, but the residual connection can be made as a starting point to fix a rift.
Under the heavy droplets of the heavens, soaking through your shirts, what matters the most in this solemn atmosphere is this: the neverending solidarity to Yeonjun's imminent marriage proposal.
Day 3: Food and catering
You were never a fighter, you have counted yourself as a lover, but right now, your fist itches to land a blow on a random girl's face... a broken nose suits her the most, you think.
She keeps on twirling her hair, her fake high-pitched voice is sickening, and the way she stands is so vexing.
Yeah, you do understand where she's coming from.
Jungwon, for some reason, was all dressed up for today's schedule. An outfit that hugs his lean body exquisitely, dynamic enough to tuck his long-sleeved button up in a black trouser, said sleeves of the button up were rolled up to his elbows. He was no doubt showing off his broad shoulders, rich man arms and slim waist, heck, even his hair is styled flawlessly.
You on the other hand weren't severely outclassed, aware of the fancy catering service that you're visiting. A simple dress and a pair of boots sufficed you, then again, you were never the fashionista in this tandem.
What you're pissed about is an enigma, but you do know that you want to thwack Jungwon in the face too. He eats all the girl's recommendations, and he has the audacity to giggle at every word that she says!
At first, you were ecstatic to test the foods presented to you, as time goes by, you lost interest because the host didn't bother to give you the fucking time of her day, focusing entirely on Jungwon.
Hence, you find yourself sitting in the corner of the room, boring holes into the pair as you nurse your glass of Cheval Blanc 1947.
"Here are our cheese section!" the woman speaks in an unnatural cheerful tone, and you couldn't help but grimace at her dying whale sounds. Just then, Jungwon turns on his heel and beckons for you to come.
"Ah, sadly I'm lactose intolerant. It's okay though, my girlfriend here can taste it for me." he motions in your direction, to where you stand dumbfoundedly at the most shocking news of the day.
He lied and he used the godforsaken title on you.
"Baby? Are you okay?" Jungwon asked, hurrying in your direction while resting his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the long table where the enormous amount of dishes are laid out. He then softly murmurs against your ear, "I'm getting tired of that girl, please help me get rid of her."
You raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Weren't you enjoying the attention from her?"
You almost winced, you sounded like a jealous girlfriend back there, but Jungwon was too appalled to even notice the slip-up.
"The fu- No. I was being polite but one more of her screeching and god, I'd jump off a cliff."
His nauseated visage made you snicker in amusement, yet you acknowledged his scheme and you are ready to bring your inner Julia Roberts out.
"Yep, I'm fine.. baby." you intentionally made your voice louder, adding the bit after a millisecond of self reflection, pressing your body closer to his and boldly landing a palm over his chest, "So, what about the cheese?"
From your peripheral sight, the attendant was obviously fuming at the blatant display of affection. She did well at concealing her rage though, keeping an impassive guise in spite of her clenched fist.
Jungwon grabbed some pieces of the dairy products (no, not by his hands, they are conveniently skewered), inspecting them and as usual, lady whale in clown make-up happily expounds each and every last one of the cheese to him.
He was unfazed by the unsolicited trifling, instead fixing his whole attention on you, his hands clutching yours when he felt your grip on him became tighter at the girl's attempt of flirting with him.
"Here, taste it for me." he prodded you, gently feeding you each cheese, completely disregarding whatever chatter was happening around the room.
The delicious milk excites you, unconsciously doing the dance that you used to do whenever you find a magnificent dish.
Jungwon beams, finding your actions endearing, then it fell down when the attendant who couldn't take a damn hint pitched in some cynical comment towards you.
Oh, he was about to berate her, but you stopped him from doing so, wanting to deal with the mini but pointless battle.
"Miss, may I ask what's your preferred cheese?" you detach yourself from the boy, squaring up to the attendant.
You're about to give her a taste of her own medicine, except you are preparing it to be more bitter than a gosam tea.
She eyed you sassily, feigning a cheerful expression before pointing at the Ricotta.
"I knew you were a basic bitch." a depreciating giggle was heard from you, facing Jungwon and throwing your hands around him which he naturally returned, "Wonnie, we should get the Brie de Meaux."
"Hm? Okay then, we'll order that. We expect everything to be fresh and that it will arrive on time next week." Jungwon utters with finality, his words directed to the food presenter but he did not batted her with any ounce of regard.
You craned your neck, smirking at the aggravated woman.
Sweet victory. Well, it's not like she had any winning odds. She had it coming to her either way, fighting a losing skirmish.
Today's events should've scared you to your wits. The manner in which you and Jungwon held, talked, and looked at each other.. it was too innate. It did not feel like you were putting on a show to make that witch act accordingly.
It's peculiar that the day ended in a carefree manner. Both sides were satisfied and radiant, no bickering and no ill intentions whenever the other had their back undefended.
Maybe the soliloquy under the rain washed the remnants of black smoke and withered petals away, creating a blank canvas that can be painted with the daylight colors of a blossoming friendship.
Yeah, that must be it. Friendship.
Day 4: Flowers
"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lilies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.
A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.
"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.
"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile in the process.
It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.
He was fine the last few days, so why on earth is he acting like a brat now?
You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.
What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.
While yes, you agreed to your brother's request, days like this where Jungwon is being unbearable made you question your decisions in life.
Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.
"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.
"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"
"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.
"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.
"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.
Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?
Not. Fucking. Tolerable.
He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.
"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.
That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.
You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.
This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.
"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."
You bent your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.
You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.
Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.
"Jungwon.." his lowly muttered name from your lips made him aware of his surroundings, noticing how close he was standing next to you, quickly distancing himself so as to not make you uneasy.
"I'm sorry." he cleared his throat, sparing Soobin a glance before making an ungraceful exit from the flower shop. A half-assed excuse of having to do something and that he'll leave the decision to you.
When Jungwon was out of the establishment, you turned to Soobin and shot him an apology as well.
"Nah, it's fine. Seems like I crossed a line." he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly afterwards, "He might come off as a passive one but he's actually possessive. That's hot."
You snorted and rolled your eyes, bluffing an expression of indifference and denying whatever the florist was trying to imply.
"He's not a boyfriend?" he asked, listing the order and other details so it'll be delivered on time for the celebration.
"No, not a boyfriend. He's a friend." emphasizing the latter, though it was clear that Soobin wasn't persuaded, given by the knowing smile he sent you.
"If you say so."
You hummed, eyes trailing to the cat-like boy outside, having finished his 'business' and is now leaning against his car, patiently waiting for you.
Having him as a friend is a good thing, yeah, you'll convince yourself that.
Day 5: Engagement ring
"Thank god Yeonjun actually did something for his own wedding proposal." you groaned, threading through the people of the jam-packed mall, spotting the familiar male in front of the jewelry shop that you've been finding for the past five minutes.
You were about to yell at him, but then you noticed he was busy with his phone. He was texting someone, with a small smile.. and dare you say that it was a smitten one.
The world slows down for a while in your perspective, you have to remind yourself that yesterday's ruckus, and the other days before that were nothing but a sham. A mere helping hand and concern for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
You told yourself not to be envious, in fact, it could be his sister or friend or a relative! Yada yada, no, it doesn't really matter even if it's a prospective lover.
Totally none of your business.
You inhaled, gripping your bag rigidly and stiffly walking towards him. Your silhouette must have caught his attention as he hastily closed and hid his phone in his pocket, acknowledging your presence with a tasteless hello.
Today's task is not a laborious one, you just have to check if the engagement ring is done and if it'll fit the finger properly. After that, you can take it back home, give it to Yeonjun so he could sneak it and voila- simple as that.
Entering the shop had your eyes bulging, the prices of the ornaments had you gagged. The fuck you mean an engagement ring can go up to a whopping 2 million won or more?
"These are expensive." you gasped, "Who would've thought that getting married can be this costly?"
"It's a precious gemstone, carved and refined into amelioration. It shows how much one cares about their partner, don't you think so, mademoiselle?" a voice startled you, clutching your chest, the jeweler behind the counter gave you a dazzling, apologetic smile at his suddenness.
"Gosh no, don't get me wrong. They are divine!" you raised your hands up in defense, "I'm sorry if I offended you."
"It's no problem." he laughs it off, placing a velvet red box on the glass counter, leniently opening it and you were blown away at the visuals of what was inside it. "By the way, this is the jewelry that you requested."
You were amazed to say the least. Yeonjun might be an idiot when it comes to art, but you can guess that love does strange things. He chose the perfect ring that his girlfriend will surely love.
"Is this ready to go?" Jungwon asked, startling you for the second time of the day, which was partially your fault because you did forget that he was beside you all this time while you're busy gawking at the trinkets.
He carefully studied the ring, the golden band with a cut of rose quartz on top glistens under the lighting of the establishment, it is truly sublime.
"One last step, monsieur. We have to make sure that it fits, you should try it on our mademoiselle here." the jeweler motioned to you, and you were about to reject him, apprehensive of the idea but you saw Jungwon hold his hand out.
You gaped at the boy, not expecting him to concede right away.
Time ticked by yet he's not showing any signs of trickery, the pressure weighs on your shoulders but you complied, cautiously covering his palm with your own.
It was electrifying, the way his fingers grazed your knuckles and his softened gaze on your skeptical mien. Goosebumps run across your arms, tickling the sentiments that you've locked in a vault as he slides the metal that was supposedly filled with promises on your ring finger.
"Gorgeous." Jungwon breathes, and you'd think that he was pertaining to the jewelry only if you did not miss the elusive starred glance he sent your way.
You surveyed your clasped hands, zooming on the ring and damn it to hell, it's too real to ignore and you're about to make a grave mistake if this continues.
A cough pulled you out of your self-absorbed hallucinations, separating your hand from Jungwon's and swiftly removing the ring on your finger, returning it to its proper place.
"It's excellent, we'll take it." you pretended to be fine, like your heart isn't about to pop out of your chest due to tachycardia that was rightfully caused by the person who is currently cooking you with his heated stare.
The jeweler gave you two a once over, a strange smile on his face before excusing himself and disappearing at the back of the shop, probably to pack the ring.
"What?!" you snapped when he remained steadfast on his staring, not having enough patience at Jungwon's antics anymore, crossing your arms in an unsophisticated stance, ready to drop kick the mixed signal giver.
He cackled at your aggressiveness, patting you on the head, "You're adorable when you're flustered."
He's bad news. He's dissolving your resolve and you think it's funny how he's able to scratch your surface easily.
Have you always been this weak? Or are you delicate only in his company, as if it's second nature to you after being with him for the longest time?
You'll never know and you're dead set on not knowing.
You'd live in this bliss called ignorance if it means that you can carry on with the denial, because there is no fucking way you're regaining the ardor you once held for this dumbass who broke your fragile heart.
You'll blame the bygone familiarity.
Flicking his hand off, you mustered the most arrogant expression you could do, "I was born adorable, Yang."
Day 6: Music
"Your obsession with Taylor Swift is unhealthy."
"And you think that BTS will do the trick?"
Jungwon lets out an affronted wheeze, "Yeonjun-hyung loves BTS."
You side eyed him from your position on the floor, "And his girlfriend's whole anthem is Taylor Swift."
You glared at each other, having a silent clash on which music should be played during the proposal.
"Can't we have a common ground here?" you went over the counter, refilling your empty glass of cheap wine that you found in Jungwon's cabinet and chugging it in one go.
The two of you are currently conceiving the ideal music to be played during the actual proposal in his flat's kitchen. It's 7 PM, he invited you over, you accepted, and now you're giving each other shit for the difference in music taste.
You understand the assignment. It should be romantic enough that it'll set the mood, love will fill the air and possibly make the girlfriend cry. Thus, you recommended a song that fits the occasion, yet your nemesis begged to differ.
Jungwon clicked away on his laptop, scouring through youtube but it 'coincidentally' ends up in the same audio that he's been fighting for.
"Open your ears and listen, Euphoria is the real deal here." he sassed, and you couldn't help but scrutinize him, making your way over to him and tapping on his keyboard aggressively.
"Daylight is what we're looking for, buddy." you played the song, making Jungwon groan in distaste.
He was yapping about how picturesque the celebration would be if Euphoria echoes in the background while Yeonjun goes on one knee, professing his undying commitment to the love of his life.
You put a hand under your chin, pondering over the concept, then a light bulb went off.
You slapped Jungwon on the back, shrugging his pained mewls off and telling him the great idea that you got. He was tentative at first, but he still did it when you threatened him that you'll eat his last stored curry if he didn't do your request.
Finally, a mash-up of two love songs in piano versions was made.
You listened to it, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back at your once in a blue moon stroke of genius.
Euphoria is a good option during the actual proposal, but what about after it?
Slow dancing under the fairy lights, foreheads touching with lovesick smiles, knowing that you're on the road to forever with your soulmate is equal to Daylight.
"If we're talking about a slow dance then Serendipity would do the job." Jungwon intercepts, emotionless at the compromise that you made.
With your hands on your hips, you started chiding him for the unsought disrespect, "Boohoo, if you tried dancing to this then maybe you'll realize how amazing this is."
You shrieked when you were suddenly whisked to your spot, landing in the middle of the kitchen as Jungwon stands in front of you with an unwavering determination.
"Show me then maybe I'll understand your point." he mumbles, then you pause, is he actually telling you to dance with him? Right now? In his kitchen?
This is so random and ridiculous. What made him think that you'd do such a thing just to get your intention across a river of crocodiles to him.
"I don't have to do that!" you whined, glowering at him, crossing your arms in disdain.
You don't know what kind of evil spirit possessed him to act like this, but you don't like it. Simply because it's making you incredibly perturbed.
"I won't settle for Daylight then."
And like fate is by your side, the lights in his kitchen, without notice, sparked and then poof! Gone.
It was pitch black, and you'd think that this is the divine intervention that you needed to flee the nerve wrecking condition he's put you through.
You heard Jungwon cuss, sputtering some 'Jay-hyung' and 'fixed it my ass' before ordering you to stay right where you are.
Some shuffling was heard, you'd be astounded at how he's navigating in this blackout but you gathered that he'd probably memorized the layout of his own house by heart.
All of a sudden, the classical melody of Daylight plays loudly on his gigantic speakers, then a dim yellow light covers a small area to illuminate.
Mr. Smartpants used the refrigerator to cast a glow in the darkness, and now he is right there, situated right where he used to be, meeting you face to face and you're lost.
Lost in his eyes, in the way he saunters to you, his palms landing on your waist as he begins to move in sync with the velvety melody.
He speaks in the softest decibel you've ever heard, feathery touches scorched you despite the clothes that separate the tiny space between his hand and your skin.
"Show me, Y/N, and I'll believe you."
You could've pushed him away, but no, you just had to hold onto his broad shoulders, letting him swing you back and forth, delicately following the rhythm of the music in accordance to the beating of your heart.
The lyrics got stuck in your head when you dared to peek at him through your eyelashes, the truth dawning on you— Yang Jungwon is your daylight.
He was intertwined with you by destiny itself. Your black and white cinematics became golden when he entered your story.
Why did it have to go all wrong instead of the one that you prayed for?
"Y/N," Jungwon hushed, "you have no idea of how much I've missed you."
Each word was heavily punctuated with a certain yearning, and it may be the intimacy of the atmosphere or your unholy alcohol consumption, but you suddenly have this desire to cradle his face.
So you gave in to it. You only live once, so why not make the most of it when an opportune moment appears.
"Did you really?" he leaned into your touch, dangerously close yet you paid no heed to the warnings, choosing to relish in his warmth.
He mirrored your smile, dimples poking through his cheeks, and you're unable to refrain yourself from poking it. Fingers gliding on his smooth skin, digging on the inherent dent that the angels sculpted and gifted him with.
His arms are now fully wrapped around your waist, the tip of your noses tickling each other, his hot breath blows over your dry lips every time he exhales, a contrast to the icy ventilation generated from the opened refrigerator.
"I did. So fucking much that I asked your brother to set us up."
What did he do?
You dropped your arms to your sides, appalled at his confession, forcing you to move back from him, creating a minimal margin with furrowed brows, "What do you mean by that?"
He held you back, securing you in his arms because there's no way he's letting you go like he did before. No more blunders that he'll inevitably repent at a later date.
"My love, please, hear me out." it was his turn to cup your face, dropping all formalities and going back to the endearment that he used to call you.
When you didn't answer, he took that as a cue to continue, "You broke up with me through text, you avoided me, and I.. I thought it was done. That it really was the best for us to separate ways. I thought moving on would be the best option, but it wasn't. I went to a whole other city to forget you, but even there you followed me."
You were breathing rapidly, trying to cope up with the information that he was spilling, you opened your mouth, barely managing to utter a single question, "How come?"
"Because you are here," he grasped your hand, guiding it to his temple, "here," to his chest, "everywhere really." finally bringing your hand up to peck the back of it.
"Everything that I see there reminds me of you.. of us, but I endured the pain of living without you until I saw a photo of you with a guy on your social media." he chuckles, murmuring against your skin, "That shit got my head spinning and I knew I had to get you back."
In a flash, you were outraged, hearing his impulsive decision rooted from his ugly green monster. Your memories have been refreshed, the dead case now reopened from the grave. How dare he decide that he'll walk in your life again after the bullshit that he had carelessly spat.
"Wow! The audacity that you have." you mused, completely disengaging yourself from him in spite of the aching protests of your consciousness to stay still in his arms, "After telling people that you don't see a future with me? Now, you want me back?"
Your over the top 'Ha!' at the end of your sentence had Jungwon reeling in anger. Here you go again, acting out the stubborn lioness made out of sheep's wool.
He took slow but gnarly steps towards you, his eyes that held daggers pierced through your soul and that unlocked a new fear within you, causing you to take your own steps backwards. The cycle went on, until your back hit the counter.
You cursed at the deities of fortune for their inadequacy at today's chapter of 'Y/N escaping confrontation with Jungwon part 2.'
"You never let me unravel whatever shit you're thinking or hearing." Jungwon sneers with steady footsteps, and you had the conviction to stare right into his own orbs only to be thrown into the rabbit hole.
There he was, treacherous vibe and clenched fists but all you could distinguish are his porcelain features and glassy eyes. Never had you ever thought that anyone would look divine with only a somber gleam and shadows casted over their face.
Yang Jungwon had a great ability of proving your theories erroneous.
Finally, he towers over you, caging you with his hefty and sullen stature, "You didn’t hear the full conversation and you're quick to judge."
You gulped in anticipation, closing your eyes shut while gripping the marbled countertop and bracing yourself for the wave that will crash upon you.
"Y/N, I do not imagine you in my future." that stings, that shit hurts to the point that tears begin welling up, then your eyes are wide open at his next words, "You are not in my future because you are the future. My future. Do you get it? I don't imagine. I, indubitably, want you to be at the center of it all."
He speaks nothing but the truth. Seriously, what is the point of all this if at the end of his sail in the sea, he doesn't have the reason why he even went on the journey beforehand.
You are stupid, you think, willing yourself not to cry at your own ignorance.
Two things were validated: you are a very bad eavesdropper and an even worse decision-maker.
"W-won..I ruined everything we had, didn’t I?" you sniffed, lowering your head in shame.
"Baby, my flower," Jungwon whispers, hugging you tightly before tilting your chin so you're able to look at him again, "don't cry. Shh, it's okay."
"How can you sa- hmpf!" your sentence was cut short when a pair of lips went and shut you up.
It was a searing and soulful kiss, more than sufficient to convey the flickering love that kept on shining even during the seasons of yearning and ache.
It was the assurance that you needed, that you are and will always be forgiven despite the conflicts that you've caused. All is well, all is fine because as far as Jungwon is concerned, it's okay if the mess turned out to be an arson you orchestrated.
People might brand him as the batshit crazy kid in town, but he couldn't care less. You are his mess and he is your crazy. Thus, he will gladly burn for you if it means that his ashes will stick on you like a tattoo.
You unintentionally moaned when Jungwon bit your lower lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he hoisted you up on the counter. His hands went to your exposed thighs, courtesy of you wearing shorts, while yours landed on his tuft of silky hair.
He situated himself in between your legs, tracing lines on your thigh and in stupor, you vaguely made out the 'mine' and a mini heart he drew beside it... or that may be your imagination taking a toll on you since his ministrations are definitely making you intoxicated.
Jungwon explored your mouth like a hungry beast, swiping over your gums, your teeth. It was a temporary fight for dominance, to which you gave in easily, allowing him to massage your own tongue in his.
He momentarily pulled away for oxygen, instructing you to stick your tongue out, and he managed to elicit another moan from you when he sucked on it, a sensual exchange of saliva occuring, causing you to tug on his hair.
A groan escaped from him, kissing you some more before detaching himself on your bruised lips, opting to slide his head down the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and smooching all over that had you giggling.
He smiles against your skin, mumbling something that kind of sounds like 'Gosh, I love hearing you laugh.'
It was such a sweet moment, then the man went wild. Licking up a stripe just below your ears, lightly nibbling on your lobe to make you squeal before dipping his head in your clavicle, sinking his teeth on your collarbone before soothing it with a kiss. He then kicked it up a notch, skidding your shirt on your left shoulder to uncover more of your skin for him to feast on.
He trailed kisses on your shoulder, up to your weak spot until he decided to bite and suck on it, making you gasp in pleasure. You whimpered his name, which basically egged him to paint you more in purple, marking you as his.
Jungwon's hands can't stay in place, roaming around your body until it slips inside your oversized shirt. His calloused palms set your skin ablaze as it snaked over your bra-clad breast, palming it for a while before moving towards your back, unclasping your under garment and removing it expertly out of your shirt.
His hand groped your chest, the other one almost ripped your shirt in a haste to reveal the upper fats of your mound, his mouth immediately attaching on it to suck some more hickeys.
You were getting antsy in your position, wiggling and moving around to find some friction due to your growing needs. One that was found on Jungwon's jeans, pressing your lower half on his in a desperate attempt for relief.
"Fuck, baby." Jungwon cursed when you grinded on his clothed hard-on, his heavy panting covering the expanse of the room, "If you continue doing that, I won't be able to control myself anymore."
Your hooded eyes made contact with his dark ones, then you made a conclusion, pulling him in for a few seconds of make-out session.
"Don't control yourself then, Wonnie. I'm yours."
His smirk tells you that you don’t have to say anything anymore, swooping you off the counter princess-style, "I'll show you what it means to be mine, then."
Day 7: Finalization
It was safe to say that Jungwon was losing his mind throughout this ordeal.
He was set to wake up with you by his side, but to his dismay, no trace of you were left the next morning after your.. eventful night.
Jungwon was so sure that he'll straighten things up with you.
He already made a promise that he'll take care of you, that he'll love you more than he used to. He clarified your misunderstanding, reassuring you that communication will be the key this time around.
All those honeyed and candid pillow talk for this tomfoolery to happen?
Jungwon is not known for bragging but heck, you were, without a doubt, sent to heaven back on earth when he showed you how much he misses, loves, and owns you.
So where the fuck are you and why did you leave him alone and cold in his bed?
You didn't block him per se, his messages and calls going through but he did realize that you're actively avoiding him again.
This is literally making his blood boil, add to that the piling stress of overseeing the venue and other things for the proposal tomorrow alone.
"Jungwon!"
Well no, technically he's not alone. Yeonjun graciously called another friend to assist him during your unexcused absence. (He was being dramatic because you're not here with him.)
"What!?" he snapped, looking at the shocked but amused older male.
"Damn, did someone spit in your coffee today?" the man cackled, nudging Jungwon with a teasing grin.
"I'll spit on you if you don't drop it." Jungwon scowled, not in the mood to play around, "What do you need, Jay-hyung?"
The American smirked, biting his lower lip to withhold himself from tittering and possibly further annoying the moody sheep, "The workers are asking where to put the cut outs. They need instructions."
Jungwon groaned, that was meant to be your job!
"Okay, I'll go there." he says, stomping his way into the middle of the garden, and if you look closely, you'll be able to see the popping veins in his forehead and the fuming smoke coming out his ears.
Jay shook his head, truly, you have no idea how much you affect Jungwon, don't you?
D-day
Jungwon was 100% sure that you wouldn't attend, but then you got him flabbergasted when you appeared in your splendid glory.
Oh, what a gem you are. Your make-up and hair are elegantly done, and he thinks you're taunting him when you wore that godforsaken backless blue dress that you hauntingly paired with black pumps.
That night, he was certain you were shunning him away for whatever reason you have... and he's going to uncover you.
Jungwon was basically a walking thundercloud in there, but thankfully, the celebration and proposal went on without a hitch.
It was an enchanting scenario, the way Yeonjun dropped on one knee, professing a lifetime of a home filled with happiness and prosperity. It made you tear up, especially when his girlfriend said yes, their genuine smiles and love touching you to no end.
Then a minute speech ensued, the couple appreciating everyone who was with them throughout their relationship, a special shout out for those who helped Yeonjun with the proposal, which included you and the name you don't wanna hear.
His girlfriend suddenly cleared her throat, announcing an unusual tradition that she wanted to do for a while now, "I know this is done during the wedding but I want to do this uniquely."
She then walked up to you, thrusting the bouquet in your hands, "I love you like you're my own sister. Y/N, I want you to be happy too, to get married someday. I know that you'll find the right man soon."
You gripped the bundle of flowers with resentment. You're drowning in the flood of doubts but you still managed to thank her with a small smile. She merely gave you a cheeky wink, returning to her former spot and throwing herself in your brother's arms.
The gathering continued, visitors dancing, eating and drinking while you stood there at the side, contemplating whether to join in on the fun or be the kill joy of the day.
A rookie mistake that you did though was when you looked up, directly staring into the chocolate orbs of the man that you recently gave your purity to, only for him to drop it on the floor to watch it shatter into pieces.
You hated yourself for giving in, but you hated it more when your heart rate sped up at the meager eye contact with him. You hated the fact that the world seemed to cease its rotation when you're hit with the reality that you're in his presence. 
Your vision might have gone bad because how come that he's the only thing that you could emphasize on while the others are nothing but bleary images.
This is incorrect, an imprecision. it made you sick to your stomach when his dimples revealed themselves, much so when you were compelled to kiss it.
You had to get out of here and take a breather.
Thus, you find yourself standing in front of a pond, back in some alley in the garden. Good thing that the venue is spacious, having this kind of area as a getaway car from the rambunctious spell that the gods have cast upon you.
"You should join a marathon for being such a good runner." a sarcastic voice had your body stone cold, anxiety enveloping your whole being at the looming adversary that you have to face.
"Thank you for the advice that I won't engage in." you tried to sound strong, but your voice box failed you when your sentence came out meek and shaky.
Jungwon chortled at the ridiculousness of the situation. He finds it funny how the progress went from 0 to 100 then back to 0.
"What are you laughing about?" you lifted an eyebrow, cautiously peering at his abrupt change in mood.
"You." he mutters, gnashing his teeth while he eyed you incredulously, "You're a whole circus, from giving me false hope to stepping all over my heart. Real clown right here."
That made you scoff, bewildered at his rude attitude, accusing you of these things when in your perspective, he was the one playing games all along.
"Aren't you aware that you are the embodiment of a personified clown?" you're an erupting volcano, and you couldn't hold it back anymore, "I trusted you! Then I wake up in the middle of the night, see a text message on your phone from an unknown number saying that your baby misses you."
Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but no, you weren't done yet. This film is something you have seen before, except tonight, it's not through a cowardly text message, you'll say it directly to him.
"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."
A moment of silence. Then Jungwon gave you a bittersweet smile, turning around so you're now facing his back.
"Mrs. Shin asked me if I was lying to her about us not being together. She said that the way I looked at you was comparable to a devotee, like you are the reason for my being."
What? What is he talking about?
"When you were doting on Sunoo, you recall that kid back at the mall? Yeah him, I had this epiphany of you being my wife, the mother of my children."
This isn't the answer that you've been looking for, but it has you stunned to the core.
"That flower guy was annoying. His dimples got me jealous, got me carried away. When you acted as my girlfriend to fend off that presenter, I wished it was true. Then I couldn't shake the butterflies in my stomach when I put that ring on you. And during the fateful night, I really thought we had something going on there."
Jungwon's shoulder shook, his head moving upwards as an attempt to dry the moisture away. If this is how it's ending, then he'd let you go. But not after spilling his endless rumination and sentiments for you.
When you broke up with him, it felt like he was dying. He was an empty shell without you. He hated you for not giving him the chance to explain himself, but he hated himself more when he gave up and moved away to cover up his wounds.
Then he saw an opportunity to be with you again, and so, he begged Yeonjun to help him, but his efforts were all in vain, it seems.
"Y/N, I dreamt of you in a white gown, walking down the aisle of the red carpet. I've always prayed for you to be my endgame. But if I really don't have a chance with you anymore, then I'll bury all those dreams away."
He finished, letting the stream out, tired of holding it back. Tired of fighting a losing battle. He'll leave your life for good, heavy footsteps crackling under the pebbles. Then he stopped, "By the way, that message you saw was from my sister's new number. And the baby that was mentioned was my dog."
If there's an award for the best lunatic out there, it must be given to you. An amateur snooper that knows nothing but to misinterpret people.
You gulped and made a run for it, throwing the bouquet that you are still holding to fully embrace Jungwon from the back, burying your face in his expensive cashmere suit.
"The chance never left, Jungwon." you muttered softly, hugging him tighter to prevent him from leaving, "It never left, and it wants you to stay."
Jungwon lets out a weak laugh, "If you're doing this out of pity t-"
"No!" you cried out, because you're tired as well. Tired of hiding things from him, for foolishly keeping it all in when you could've talked it out.
You poured the stashed secrets. From the handmade paper ring that you were about to give him when you heard him in the student council room. to how you're afraid that college life might bring a fissure in your relationship, so you wanted to give him something that'll remind him of you and your love.
You told him that you cannot see a future without him, so you prematurely went into a heartbreak episode when you misunderstood his words. Every fault is a series of your insecurities and skepticism of a happy ending with him.
You confessed to him that you have always loved him, that your heart still belongs to him. You're just a plain idiot that couldn't communicate well but you swear, he's the only one that you'd choose in a room full of other men.
You spewed out promises of telling him whenever you're overthinking or overfeeling things. That you wouldn't get ahead of yourself next time, that you'd trust him more.
Your wrongdoings are not to be tolerated, but you'd do your best to make it up to him.
Jungwon finally turns around, his dried tear stains on his cheeks pains you, yet he's a sweetheart, wiping your own salty tears in lieu of his.
"The paper ring." he mumbles while bolstering your cheeks on his palms in a silly manner, pressing his forehead on yours, "Make me that paper ring again, this time give it to me."
You nod with the full intent of handing him the gift with the oath of staying by his side until you have both achieved your dreams and aspirations in life. 
Pinky promises are mainstream, adorable yes, but the best is sealing a promise with a kiss.
The buzzing noise of the party in the garden turned into white noise, the focal point is on the subject of your affection. The man who is currently kissing you under the stars. 
There is this one term that you read once, ‘Ephemeral.’
It was a pretty word, but its meaning is sorrowful. 
Yet with Jungwon, seeing the silver lining of the word is easier than studying for an exam.
The pain, arguments, hugs, kisses, and life itself is short-lived. Fleeting memories forgotten when you’re gray and old. Still, that gives you more reason to rejoice the moments as much as you can.
Besides, if Yang Jungwon is by your side, then every ephemeral will last perpetually.
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