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ophelieverse · 2 months

Note

if you are still taking requests I have one:Jace returning to Winterfell to reader,who is Cregan younger sister,to make the “song of ice and fire” become true after his mother told him😌please and thank you❤️

✩ ‧₊˚ and his will be the song of ice and fire

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

-Summary:during his first stay at Winterfell,Jace and Y/n got much closer than they should.Now,after knowing the prophecy about the song of ice and fire from his mother,Jace is determined to make it true with the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.

-Warnings:spoilers of the last episode,reader is a Stark,Jace cheats of Baela(him and reader pull a Rhaegar and Lyanna)smutty time,asoiaf classic warnings.

•-thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you guys think,sending you lots of love

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On that night in early Winter,as a milky moon shines white above the hills,the snow falls soft to whitewash the gentle slopes and the houses in the valley of Winterfell.The air smells of the last breath of smoke blown out of a fireplace,ice,earth and wood.

It's late,and many lights are already off,but the fire of torches along the streets still shine.The tavern lanterns are also still lit,as are some fireplaces or oil lamps in homes.The world is immersed in the peaceful quiet of that cold night,which already brings with it the algid squeeze of winter now closer and closer.

In the secluded area of the cold godswood,in the gardens of the castle of Winterfell,silence envelopes the floral landscape like a lover embrace and Jacaerys worries that the unrequited sound of his beating heart could be heard throughout the whole realm.

The blood-red leaves in the branches of the weirdwood tree danced calmly in the breezy wind,the snow had stopped falling from the black sky leaving only the white stars to shine.The torches lights were too close and too bright,Jace eyes were hurting and his cold hands were trying to warm up in the ones of his future bride.

The young prince is really trying to focus on the soft words,the promises of eternal love and loyalty,of the Septon that works for House Stark.But they sounded so foreign to him,almost as if they were another language.It’s impossible for him to focus on anything else outside the fact that he’s really getting married.

During his life,Jacaerys has never knew well how weddings ceremonies actually worked,but he was pretty sure that this one,his,wasn’t what people would call a normal one.He has a vague memory of his mother second wedding,just the day after the worst night of his life,but he still could remember a loving couple becoming one in the heart and soul.Promising each other,in the house culture,love and devotion,eternal loyalty.

He also remembered the wedding of his uncle and aunt,Aegon and Helaena,in the big and bright Temple in King’s Landing.How two children spouted oaths that they didn’t believed in,framed by perfect swaths of red,green and yellow.Smiling faces of their families,proud to be reunited for such a joyful moment.Then the celebration after in the castle,the people dancing and laughing,the melodious music and singing,the delights of the night.

Meanwhile this wedding,his,was quiet and rushed.Reserved and in the dark shade of the forest.There are no wonderful colors for decorations,no smiling families members or friends,aside from Cregan who was chosen as a witness to the union,and Jacaerys is in the middle of an icy tundra of suffocating silence.

Y/n is standing in front of him,adorned in pure pearly white just like the snow at her feet.She wasn’t just beautiful,she was otherworldly and vaguely threatening.Bright eyes,rosy cheeks and red lips,hair falling in the wind,the smile of and enchanting enchantress and the nature of a young she wolf.Blue winter roses crowned on her head,she looked like a religious icon,someone people sacrificed themselves for.

Jacaerys had spent weeks with her during his stay in the North and he couldn’t forget her for days.He had engraved her name in the palm of his hands,the way she would laugh with him,the way she carried herself and looked at him,forever in his heart.It was impossible to not grow to love her,the beautiful lady was made of magic and stardust.

The logics and sermons,the words and phrases of the Septon weren’t the one to convince him to swear his allegiance and love,the way she held his hands and softly smiled at him driven deeper into his soul.Y/n had wrapped herself into his ribs,crawling right inside his heart,to keep him warm.

He was born for her and she was born for him.The ice and the fire,it was written in the destiny.

His mother words still echoed in his mind as he looked at Y/n.The song of ice and fire would be the product of their love,a son or a daughter that would have ruled and kept the realm together and safe.Someone who would inherit the blood of the old Valyria,the blood of the dragons and gods,fire and warmth from their father.And the blood of the first men,the old gods,the ice of the true north from their mother.

Y/n was his truth,Jacaerys was the dream,she was the ice and he was the fire.

She made him sick with desire,she always did since the moment he was first introduced to her.With the desire to have her,to possess her,to have her around him forever.And now he had the perfect opportunity,the perfect excuse for his betrayal to Baela and his mother who had betrothed them months ago.

Now he could still believe that he was a good person with a purpose,not only because of his own selfish dream to be with Y/n and to marry her just because her figure hunted his memory and his carnal needs.Because he was growing to love her and wanted to grow old with her.It was for the realm,he was repeating to himself over and over to shut down the guilt,and it would be what he would tell his mother and cousin when he and his new wife would go to Dragonstone after their wedding.For the realm,for the world and the Targaryen dynasty.

Jacaerys is dressed in pure black,trembling in his furry cloak,he’s trying to calm down his breathing that relies heavily through his nose in forms of little white clouds.Idly he wonders if this was a funeral ceremony instead of a wedding,but this was the best they could manage in such short time.

The young prince had came to Winterfell,flying on dragon back,with the last lights of the sun and everything was orchestrated in secrecy as fast as they could.The child that would be born from him and Y/n needed to be fully legitimate,he didn’t wanted to risk a bastard just like he was,not when the child wouldn’t have become the protector of the realm,the one from Aegon the Conqueror dream.

Y/n was promised to Lord Jason Lannister eldest son and Jacaerys was promised to his cousin Baela.Everything of this was the highest of treason but the war was already there and they couldn’t go back now.His mind couldn’t help but circling around and back to the empty and oddly depressing atmosphere around them.

Before them a old and solemn man was going through some chants about the gods witnessing the union and behind them a grand total of just two whole guest.Cregan stood there,wrapped around his cloak,still and silent like a statue,Vermax was a few feet away looking at the scene like he could understand what was going on.

«In the sight of the Seven,I hereby see you these two souls,binding them as one for eternity.Look upon one another and say the words.»the Septon words were spoken with decision under the torches fire.

Jacaerys swallows thickly and feels like he’s been choked by the cloak that now is heavier on his shoulders.A beads of sweats drips down on his forehead and make his hair stuck on his neck even in the cold air.He wants nothing more than loose his collar and breathe deeply.All that clothing is far too stiff and uncomfortable and he feels like a stranger in his own body.He has to tell himself,as he close his eyes,that this would be over sooner that he’ll realize.

His mouth feels dry as he wet his lips before speaking his vows«Father.Smith.Warrior.Mother.Maiden. Crone.Stranger.I am hers,and she is mine,from this day,till the end of my days.»his voice was firm as he held her hand tightly.

Y/n smiled at him,she tried to be brave just like he was.Her hands were shaking in his,her nerves had eaten her alive the whole night,from the moment she had put on her mother old dress,to this very moment.Now she couldn’t go back.

She really started to love Jacaerys,how could she not?He was so gentle with his words,so kind with the way he touched and looked at her,perfect in everything that he did.And the fact that him,such a beautiful and loving man,had chosen her as his wife and future mother of his children,was dream coming true.As a child,she often dreamed of becoming a princess and to marry a prince,just like the ones in her fairytales.

But now she would’ve had to be the future Queen in a kingdom divided in two,with a war that was screaming outside their door.Jacaerys seemed to read her mind,squeezing her hands lovingly and nodding his head to reassure her,in a way to tell her that she wasn’t alone and that they would be together in the bad and the good.

«Father.Smith.Warrior.Mother.Maiden.Crone.Stranger.I am his and he is mine,from this day,till the end of my days.»Y/n pronounced every single word softly without taking her eyes off her husband.

Maybe this was really a funeral because,as she spoke,Y/n realized that there was no turning back now,they would not be just a prince and lady anymore.When did everything became so complicated?She started to get melancholic as she started to register how much her life had changed in few seconds,that the best part of her new life was also the hardest.

Just a few weeks ago she was running around the godswood with Jacaerys as she was teaching him about the old gods and the legends in the north and now all of her dreams and ambitions were threatened by her husband family.A family that she was part of now.

They were supposed to change the world by bringing their child into it,but the world was about to change them and it certainly wasn’t a change for the better.The greens usurping the throne,prince Aemond killing prince Lucerys proves that.

Y/n head was hurting as she thought about that.And she couldn’t forget about the part where both her and Jacaerys were promised to other people.They would be viewed as traitors among his family,his uncle Daemon wouldn’t take the news kindly and he certainly wouldn’t congratulate them.Y/n father also didn’t knew about any of this and she still feared his reaction.

Regardless all of that,of having the world against them.Both Jacaerys and Y/n didn’t cared about all the venomous things people will say about them or the things that they would have to go through,because if they were given a second chance they would do it all over again.They were loving each other too much to let the other go.

«With this kiss I pledge my love.»Jacaerys said to her,moving his hand to caress carefully her freezing cheek.

His lips felt soft and surprisingly warm against her cold ones.And just like that they were officially married in the sight of the Seven and law.

There is no time for celebrations,no music and tables filled with joy,decorations and all sort of foods.Instead they found themselves in Y/n chambers,the one she grew up in,the one that saw her going from a little girl that played with her dolls to a married woman.

The sheets were changed clean,some fresh flowers were put to adorn the headboard and right on the small table at the center of the table there was wine and some fruits.Cregan had to be the one organizing the whole thing as a small gift.

Y/n takes off her cloak and picks up a small red berry.Jacaerys does the same,moving around the room quietly,he raised his eyes and caught her attention with a sweet smile,so tender and yet so seductive,his lips shiny and wet with a clear juice that slowly dripped down his chin.

«Let me help my wife.»his voice sounded more confident now that it was just the two of them and no one else.

The word,wife,made Y/n feel hot against her chest and down her legs.Standing behind her,Jacaerys wrapped her in his arms.She shuddered when she felt his lips on her neck and along her shoulder:she closed her eyes and abandoned herself against his chest,sighing.

«Jace,husband.»whispered the beautiful lady,her eyes closed and her head slightly tilted back.

«From our love will come the child that this world needs.»Jacaerys had said between the kisses«And I will take care of both of you.»he continued.

«You promise?»Y/n voice was just breathless whisper.

«Nothing will happen to you,»his hand crawled down her stomach leaving shivers on her clothed skin,only to stop at her lower belly.

«But…your family…your mother and uncle-»she tried,biting her lip when he started to suck gently behind her ear.

«Our family will understand.»he corrected her«My mother knows the truth and she will grow to love you just like I do,especially after we will make her a grandmother.»he reassured her sweetly.

A shiver flashed down her back and inflamed her loins.The young prince lowered her shoulder strap to discover her breasts and squeezed it slowly between his fingers,flaring in turn as he felt the nipple turged against his palm.

Y/n staggered,her heart throbbing,her breath shortness and her legs were already trembling but Jacaerys was quick to support her:he lifted her in his arms and took her to the thalamus,on which he gently laid her,a splendid candid flower that seemed to fill that place of shadow with light and of which it was impossible for him to do without.

«My beautiful princess,my beautiful wife.»he murmured against her lips kneeling above her,her eyes shiny,her face turned on despite the pallor.

Y/n took his head in her hands,dipped her fingers between his long curly black hair like a crow's wing;she felt his whole body quiver himing,his heart beating fiercely,and like every time he made her understand that he wanted her,a glance was enough for her to make sure of his devotion:she beat her eyelashes darkening the beautiful irises for a moment,licking her lips;she barely curved them,aware that that gesture drove him crazy,she slowly pulled a flap of the dress to herself by uncovering one leg and flexed it,letting the toe of her foot slide down his thigh,continuing to look at him intensely.

Below the fabric of his pants,Jacaerys felt the delicacy and sensuality of her touch.The tremor of excitement that attacked him was violent, lightning-fast:he stared at her for a moment and couldn't resist any longer.He impatiently freed her from the gown leaving her naked and just as quickly he undressed himself,the look that ran longingly on every corner of her body,unable to give up admiring her as the first time and like every time.

«I’m yours.»Jacaerys promised her,whispering against her lips«Nothing will ever take me away from you.»he kissed her sweetly.

She whimpered and her heart started to beat faster«I’m yours.»she repeated.

He sank with his nose and mouth between the curves of her chest,grabbed her soft hips,stroked her thighs and bottom.Y/n flared all up as she felt his lips pop greedily on her breasts,squeezing volupously around one of his nipples as he brushed it with his tongue and teased the other with his thumb.Pervaded with chills,she widened her legs and clawed her fingers on the sheets;she lifted her pelvis sighing,longing for it anxiously.

The pleasure exploded when he began to draw with the arabesque index finger in the center of her body:she moaned,her breasts shaken by palpitations,her nipples turgid and sore from the pleasure of kisses and caresses,the groin and lower abdomen on fire.

Jacaerys stretched out on her,wrapped her every horizon in darkness:all her muscles were pulsing, the heartbeat that became gradually more frenetic from the burning need to love her,to get drunk on her.He looked at her again he could never have satiated himself to admire her beautiful face - and as soon as she returned his gaze,sweet and sensual every time more,the voluptuousness clouded his mind.

He sank between her thighs,tearing a lament from her that he suffocated with his lips;he clinged her tightly in his arms and kissed her with trepidation,proud and passionate as he pushed himself into her.Y/n clung to his shoulders pressing against his chest with her breasts and belly,her thighs squeezed to his hips:she felt like screaming again, but her tongue danced unbridled in her mouth,the movement of the hips energetic against her,providing her with each push a pang of intense,deep,absolute enjoyment.

The prince hands ran over her body with ardor,she felt his fingers demanding and sweet at the same time on the flesh,in the throes of estasy,she could do nothing but indulge in passion,following the fast pace with which he was moving inside,shadow inside the light,light wrapped in shadow.

«Jace,oh my gods!»Y/n had breathed closing her eyes and pulling the hair at the nape of his neck.

Going crazy with pleasure to hear his bride enjoy,Jacaerys pushed with greater vigor,eager to increase her enjoyment to a great demour,excited by her moans and delighted by the fervor with which she clenched herself by scratching his back with her nails.

«Y/n,oh my sweet little wife.»he groaned against her her,sweat covering his forehead.

He loved her,impetuously and madly,letting himself be stunned by her sighs,her heartbeats,her scent,similar to a flower that spreads his fragrance moved by the north wind caress.

Y/n quivered below him,the breast prey to his incessant caresses,the mouth half of his insatiable kisses;she felt his love to pierce her with tenacity,the pleasure to become more and more powerful and intoxicating and when she reached her peak she screamed,overwhelmed by the intensity of that embrace:this time Jacaerys did not hold back her scream and in turn could not hold back a moan as he made sure to release inside of her.

Appealing to the last forces Jacaerys had left,he bent down to kiss her and finally overturned at her side,panting.Exhausted,Y/n abandoned herself against the bed,her long hair spread in waves on her pillows.

Jace hurried to cover her with the sheet so that she wouldn't get cold and smiled at her,as soon as he felt her fingers touch his cheek.For a moment he stood to contemplate her eyes,her lips,her smile...she was even more beautiful,after love.

«Y/n,»he whispered as he came back to hold her tenderly to himself«I love you.»

She sought shelter in his arms,fulfilled and satiated with strong emotions but still eager for him.She placed her head on his chest and let his caress her hair«I love you too Jace.»she answered.

He smiled,placing a hand on her warm and sweaty skin of her lower belly where he hope a new life would start to grow soon«I promise you,our child will change the world.»he whispered.

They fell asleep together,ice and fire united.And the next day they would still be like this,in each other's arms,bound by passion,seduced by love.Creating a new life together that would have changed everything.

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joostsblog · 4 months

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Hii!! Can you write a Joost x Reader where reader goes with him on tour, but they made a mistake with the hotel rooms and reader has to share a room / bed with Joost? 👀

here you goooooooo

to be desired ~ joost klein friends to lovers one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A hotel room mix-up not only forces you to share a bed with your friend Joost but also some feelings you had tried to hide away for too long.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I hope you like it, if you do pls show your support by reblogging ❣️❣️ send in requests i'm having fun with this! 💌

Warnings: not proofread

"Alright, I'm gonna head out early tonight," you let Adam know. You were backstage at one of Joost's shows, only the last few songs were yet to be performed.

"Already?" Adam asked as he looked up from whatever he was working on.

"Yeah, can you let Joost know later?" you asked although you had already told your friend earlier tonight that you probably wouldn't last long tonight.

"Will do. Keycard's on the desk," he informed you, pointing to the desk by the door where you were standing. Adam was Joost's tour manager and one of his duties taking care of everyone's accommodation which usually included him checking in for everyone and distributing the hotel key cards backstage. You snatched the keycard and waved goodbye to Adam as you headed out.

During the short walk to the hotel you looked around the streets of this city you had never been in before. You were so grateful that Joost had suggested you join him for tour three months ago. The offer came about after you had spent an evening smoking on Joost's balcony, venting to him about feeling uninspired, directionless and stuck in your routine and environment.

"Like, I just wanna be everywhere all the time and instead I'm just in my flat all day every day," you complained to him and he nodded.

"Why don't you come with me on tour?" he had just asked bluntly and your first instinct was to decline. But then you wondered, why not? What's stopping you? You could do your work remotely from anywhere anyway and you loved to travel. Getting out of your usual environment and routine was exactly what you needed and Joost offered you the solution on a silver platter.

"Alright, why not?" you shrugged. Joost got up from his seat to hug you in excitement.

"My best friend is coming on tour with me," he said and you laughed as you hugged him back. What he didn't know is that you longed to be so much more than his best friend, but you declared that a problem for another day.

"Oh nice," you said to yourself as you opened the door to your hotel room and noticed it was much nicer than usual. It was definitely more spacious and the bed was a queen-sized one instead of a single. You took the opportunity of the early night to take a long shower in peace and do an extensive skincare routine before you plopped down on the bed in your pyjamas. You got comfortable under the covers and pulled up your phone to watch some TikToks before you slowly dozed off.

You were awoken when you heard a beep coming from the door as it was being unlocked. Your eyes shot wide open as you realise that someone was getting into your hotel room as you saw the door slowly open.

"What the fuck! Get out!" you yelled towards the door and you quickly turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

"I'm so sorry," you heard the person at the door say apologetically as they quickly closed the door again. Before the door fell into the lock the person stopped in their tracks. "(Y/N)?" a familiar voice uncertainly asked.

"Joost?" you asked in confusion. The door slowly opened again to reveal Joost standing in the door frame looking just as dumbfounded as you. "Wha-?" you furrowed your brows.

"You're in my room," Joost laughed.

"No, I think you're in my room," you insisted.

"I don't think so," Joost said and held up his keycard as if it would explain anything.

"Yeah, how do you think I got inside?" you asked.

"Adam messed up," Joost stated and you nodded as you laughed nervously. "I'm gonna call him," Joost said as he pulled out his phone. You looked down at your phone to see that the time was almost 2 am. You were not so sure that Joost would be able to reach Adam at this time and your suspicion was confirmed when Joost turned back to you. "He's not answering," he said and scratched his head. "The reception desk is also closed already."

You rubbed your eyes sleepily as you watched Joost cluelessly stand by the door, his bags in hand. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he said after a pause. "I'll check if I can crash in Stuntje's bed or something."

"Isn't he gonna be asleep already as well?" you asked.

"Probably," Joost shrugged.

"And his room only has a single bed," you stated.

"Probably," Joost confirmed.

"Honestly, if you don't mind, I don't mind," you said gesturing to the empty side of the bed. "It's a big bed."

"If you don't mind snoring," Joost laughed.

"I'll manage," you assured him.

"Alright," Joost said and put down his bags. "I'll be quick," he said as he gestured to the bathroom.

"Take your time," you smiled.

It was only a few minutes before you could feel the mattress dip on the other side of the bed and Joost slipped in beneath the covers.

"I missed you at the end of the show tonight," Joost said. You turned to face him.

"I know, I'm sorry, I was just very tired," you said. There was about a metre between your faces as you lay there comfortably.

"When I invited you to tour I was under the impression that my advantage would be that I would get more of you," Joost joked.

"Haven't you had enough of me?" you asked.

Joost shook his head. "Never."

"Well, tonight you're getting a whole lot of me," you said and immediately blushed when you realised how Joost could take your words in the wrong way. "I mean-" you started but Joost just laughed. "Nevermind," you said trying to play it cool.

"This is fun," Joost said. "It's like a sleepover."

"Oh, I've got some bad memories from a sleepover," you said and Joost furrowed his brows.

"How come?" he asked concerned.

"Well," you let out a breath. "For the longest time, I was never invited to them. And then in 7th grade, I was finally invited to one and when we played spin the bottle the bottle landed on me and my crush at the time which meant that we had to kiss - which would've been my first kiss by the way - but he refused to kiss me," you shrugged trying to play it cool. "Everyone else did and he pretended as if kissing me would be the worst thing in the world," you could feel your throat getting tighter as you recalled the memory and what it made you feel. Joost grabbed your hand in yours to comfort you.

"What an asshole," he said. "Who wouldn't want to kiss you?"

"Well," you shrugged. "I don't know anybody," you joked. "I think that moment fucked me up, like still to today."

"How come?" Joost inquired as he used his thumb to softly stroke the back of your hand.

"I talked about this in therapy but I think that this experience and a few others led me to believe that nobody could ever be seriously interested in me, that there was never anybody that desired me," you explained looking around the room to avoid Joost's gaze who was looking at you as he listened intently. "Like I don't think I've ever had anyone try to pick me up or like flirt with me or something."

"That's not true," Joost said with a frown on his face which you discovered as you looked at him for the first time again. "People have definitely flirted with you."

"Sorry, but how would you know?" you laughed.

"Because I flirted with you when we first met," Joost said and your heart skipped a beat.

"No, you didn't," you said.

"Yes, I did," Joost insisted. "I made Appie introduce me to you because I thought you were cute." Your heart started beating faster at the revelation.

"What? I swear I was oblivious," you said.

"Well, I just assumed you weren't interested in me in that way," Joost shrugged and you kicked your past self for missing such an opportunity.

"So, you're telling me I fumbled the bag with you?" you asked, your heart beating almost out of your chest. Joost nodded grinning. "This-" you gestured between the two of you, "could've been something entirely different?"

"Yes," Joost said and paused. "Still can be," he added timidly. You held onto Joost's hand like a lifeline, squeezing his hand tightly. "I think you need to breathe," Joost reminded you as he noticed you holding your breath. "Are you alright?" he finally asked after your silence persisted.

"I want you to kiss me," you finally dared to say.

Joost softly grabbed your face and moved closer to you. Your hands found the back of Joost's head and his lips crashed into yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Joost was leaning over you, his hand sneaking down to your waist where a sliver of your skin was exposed by your pyjama set. Your lips moved in sync against each other, tasting every bit of the other. Joost softly put your hair behind your ear after you broke the kiss and watched your face fondly.

"Next time you can tell me sooner because I would've done anything you would've told me to," he said and planted a quick peck on your nose.

"Well, I want you to cuddle me," you smiled.

"That can be arranged," Joost said as he spooned you from behind, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Maybe we should thank Adam for the mix-up."

#stream luchtballon #joost #joost klein #joost x you #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein fanfic #joost fanfic #joost fic #joost klein fic #joost oneshot #joost klein oneshot #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfiction

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driaswrld · 11 months

Text

lovers rock — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 2.7k

summary : over a bottle of ill-gotten vodka, the trio has a tipsy conversation about kisses.

part of : the star paradox collection.

(comment if u wanna be tagged for tsr!!)

notes : this is heavily based off the fact that reader DID in fact have secret feelings for geto and gojo but never said anything ab it until before the star plasma incident (fic ab that coming soon dw) you may interpret this as reader fell first, they fell harder bcus that's exactly what happened fr

other : satosugu makes fake IDs (based off that one fanart), literally underage drinking??? toru cant hold his alc but wbk this, suguru smokes here too, suggestive convo, mentions of like one curse word i think

current casette : lovers rock - tv girl (anything by tv girl is a tsr song okay?)

The dorms at Tokyo Jujutsu High operate on one solid rule.

All lights out by ten, no exceptions, no buts, ands, ifs or becauses. Curfew is at ten, be in your damn room by ten.

Naturally, Satoru and Suguru mistake ten for twelve.

It’s 9:53 when you walk into your dorm room, and the first thing that greets you are hushed whispers and a smoky smell.

Why is it so dark in here?

From your place at the door frame, your eyes flit to the back of Satoru’s head, silver white strands tickling his nape, uniform replaced with a blue hoodie. Suguru’s sitting across from him, slouched, cross legged like Satoru, hair tied into a ponytail and lips twisted into a thin scowl.

“—wasn’t yours.” Suguru grumbles beneath his breath, a pair of dice clinking softly in his palm, the light from your bedside lamp giving you a sneak peek of the numbers resting.

Three and six. Oh, no, that's definitely five.

“Cost me six hundred yen to get it.”

Satoru seems to ignore him, letting out a huff in defiance.

Suguru grunts, leaning over the side of the bed to pick up a half smoked cigarette, pressing it softly against the edge of your favorite incense holder to collect the stray ash.

“Broke ass.” Satoru mumbles, and though you can’t see his expression from here, you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Freeloader.” Suguru counters, cigarette lodged between his middle and index, and he brings it up to his lips and draws in softly.

He leans forward to drop the dice on Satoru’s leg.

“We’re supposed to split it equally.” You hear a clinking noise coming from Satoru’s lap.

“Like hell we are.” Suguru scoffs, a wisp of smoke leaving his mouth.

“I should get first share, it’s only fair.”

Suguru gets up from the bed, back turned to you as he slides the window open halfway. “We’re not sharing anything.” He flicks the cigarette outside. “I don’t know where your mouth’s been—”

“You tryin’ to fight—”

“Are you two getting high in my room?” Your voice makes them both freeze, and Satoru folds over the bed backwards, head upside down and staring straight at you with a guilty grin, all while Suguru is discreetly trying to fan the rest of the cigarette smoke out the window.

“What gave you that idea?” Suguru murmurs, squinting his eyes to make out your expression in the dim light with a faux innocent smile.

You breathe a chuckle, dropping your bag by the door and clicking it shut behind you. “How did the studying with Nanamin go?” Satoru asks, as if you can’t see him folded over the bed like he’s hiding something while Suguru fans the smoke through the window.

“I fell asleep halfway through, we got boba with Haibara instead.” You say, feeling blindly on the wall for the light switch.

“And you didn’t bring some back for me?” Satoru gasps, near offended.

“Don't change the subject,” you roll your eyes, pinky finger bumping against the light switch, and you flick it upwards with your index. When the light comes on and you face them, your jaw drops.

“Surprise…?” Suguru’s cheeks puff up in a wide thin lipped smile, almost mockingly. Satoru is still hanging off the edge of the bed, cigarette ash curdled on your incense holder, the pair of dice laying on the bedsheets and sure, they kinda made a little mess of your room.

But it's the bottle of vodka sitting between Satoru’s legs that takes the cake.

“You have to be kidding me—”

Suguru shrugs his shoulders, sliding the window fully open, the night air wafting inside.

It's almost curfew. And here they are. You're not even surprised, this is totally in character for them. “Wow, no, Satoru, you're such a rebel?” Satoru kicks his legs back and forth, voice mimicking a girly pitch. “Bad boys are so hot! Tell me all your secrets, toru-kun! None of that?"

“I was there too, idiot.” Suguru grumbles, shoving one of Satoru's legs aside as he steps over to the bedside table to grab the ash covered incense holder.

Satoru flails his legs like Suguru just smacked him, ever so dramatically. “How did you do it though?” You ask, with a near wince, exasperated but curious.

Unexpectedly, Satoru swings the vodka bottle sideways and into Suguru’s arms, the glass making a soft set of clink! sounds from Suguru’s rings as he catches it, both your eyes going wide as Satoru stands on the bed, striking some sort of elaborate pose.

“The date, June fifteenth ‘06—”

You turn to Suguru, confused but he only shrugs in response. “My assistant Sugi-san and I walked into Shinanoya—” Satoru continues his elaborate presentation, meanwhile you and Suguru whisper between his words. "Never call me that again—"

“So that's what you two were doing while you were supposed to be exorcising that curse?”

“He forced me to go along—”

“With these!” Satoru pulls out a mini plastic card, which is supposed to look like an ID, but really it's as flimsy as a piece of paper. You had to admit though, they really did get his good side in the picture. If he even has a bad side, that is.

“And we got the liquor at half price.” Suguru mumbles as you nudge him, and he pulls out his own fake ID, which looks the same as Satoru’s — you think you might want to print these pictures for a scrapbook or something some other time.

“I thought you said it was six hundred yen!”

“I added my service charge.”

“Service? What are you, a whore?”

You take the bottle from Suguru to feel the weight in your hands, and the liquid inside sloshes a little to the side.

Out of sheer curiosity and despite your better senses, you mumble, “Let's play a drinking game then.”

Forty minutes later.

It's drawing near to eleven. The lights are turned off and all that's coming from your dorm room are the sounds of yours and the boys’ whispers and hushed giggles from time to time, barely drowned out by a soft song playing from Suguru’s phone, playlist laying open on his phone, one of Satoru’s picks.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

“—turn it to your head if you can't answer.” Satoru grins, cheek resting on his palm as he lays across the bed. “Have you ever gotten freaky with a milf?”

A chortle leaves your mouth when Suguru twists his lips into an expression of shock and utter disgust, and you have to cover your mouth to not laugh out loud.

“A milf? Like… forty or something?”

“Not really — just like a hot older woman.” You say.

“Oh, she was around that age then, I guess…” Suguru grumbles, clutching the half empty vodka bottle in one hand, eyes squinted. “I didn't sleep with her though— I don't just… sling dick around like Satoru— I have morals.”

“Says the one who sucked tongue with an elderly woman.”

Suguru scoffs and takes a swig from the bottle, passing it over to you.

You shrug, coming to Suguru’s defense with a mumble. “I mean, Satoru… you are common—”

“Don't pretty it up, he's ran through—”

“Like hell I am!”

The three of you fold over in a fit of laughter, gasping for air, faces hot from the alcohol and the sheer idiocy of the moment.

It takes all your energy to muffle your combined laughs, and Satoru leans over Suguru’s phone to increase the music volume just a little, lightheaded and nearly knocking the vodka out of your hand, mouthing the lyrics with a lopsided toothy grin.

You like a pretty boy

With a pretty voice

“Your turn.” Suguru nods to you and the liquor in your hand sloshes to the side. “Make it good—”

Satoru tries to interrupt but has to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh when you take a whiff of the vodka, head tilting back and mouth forming an ‘o’ shape — sure, you three were already a little tipsy, but you’re pretty sure this is way past your limit.

Not like you could hold your alcohol anyway.

Suguru was the only one who could survive, you and Satoru were certified lightweights by default.

“Dare me to do anything and I’ll throw up on you.” You huff, and both boys raise their arms up in surrender.

It’s these things, small moments like these that make you want to live forever.

Minus the aging part, or maybe with the aging part — if it meant doing stupid stuff with Satoru and Suguru, young or old, you’re sure you’d have no complaints.

Because it’s them.

“You scared?” Satoru chuckles, drawing you out of your thoughts.

The way he says it, in that tone – it’s the same tone that would make you follow him anywhere.

The same tone that makes Suguru roll his eyes so far in the back of his head you’d think he had a leading role in The Conjuring.

“Should I be scared?”

It’s paired with bated breath, and the way Suguru looks up at you, dark eyes glazed over with a hint of inebriation, waterline bordering on crimson from the lit cigarette tucked between his middle and index – it makes you feel naked.

In a way you’ve never felt before.

“That depends,” he murmurs. You gulp. It’s like the air in here has changed, foggy with a foreign feeling surrounding you three. “Do you wanna be scared?”

Suguru takes a deep inhale of his cig, leaning over to breathe out a plume of smoke. You and Satoru inhale it like you’ve neglected oxygen your whole lives.

Maybe if it were anyone else you’d call it want. Or need.

Something in your soul tells you it transcends that.

She might want a kiss before the end of the song—

“Suguru—” His name doesn't get the chance to leave your mouth entirely, Satoru’s thumb and forefinger already have your chin in his grasp, turning your gaze to him instead.

“What’re you looking at him for?” Satoru mumbles, and you hear Suguru stifles a laugh across from you.

“You think he’s gonna save you?”

You want to laugh, it’s a running joke anyway.

No matter what, you run to Suguru to put Satoru in his place. That time Satoru got you kicked out of a movie theater, or the time Satoru tripped you up during a mission in front of the first years, or the time Satoru ate the cheesecake you hid in your mini fridge —

Whenever little name gets her strings pulled by Satoru, she goes running off for Suguru to save her, right?

But it doesn’t feel like he’s talking about that.

“You need me to save you, name?” Suguru chuckles, and from the corner of your eye, you see him pull his hair loose, dark strands cascading over his shoulders.

“Gonna let him call you weak like that?” He chides, and the cool pad of Satoru’s thumb taps against your bottom lip twice, as if challenging you to say something – to give him your attention instead.

“Nah, don’t need a hero.” You whisper, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Toru might though.”

Suguru bites back a snicker, head tilting back as he draws in another inhale of smoke. “Aw, don’t bully him, name.”

Because love can burn

Like a cigarette

“C’mon, don’t look at him,” Satoru tilts your head in his grasp, a soft grin forming on his face, dimples on showcase. “Look at me.” He whispers, tugging you closer, and you have to tighten your grip on the neck of the bottle so it doesn’t slip, your palms sweating from the proximity.

“Satoru—”

“Don’t double back now, you laughed a bit too hard at me just now, y’know?”

You open your mouth to protest, shivering when the tip of your tongue grazes the pad of his thumb. Satoru makes a noise in the back of his throat, something between a groan and a scoff.

You wonder if the vodka made you imagine the way his pupils dilated. “Just ask the stupid question—” You try to turn your head away in vain, and this time, Suguru laughs at your expense.

“You ever been kissed before?”

And leave you with nothing

You stiffen, gaze snapping up to meet Satoru’s, only to find him dead serious.

Ofcourse you’ve been kissed before. But not like that— not like—

Like… oh no…

And if you start to kiss—

You bring the bottle of vodka to your lips, and both boys watch with amused gazes, and hint of something you don’t have a name for yet.

“You could’ve just—” Satoru’s hand falls loose over your shoulder as you take a swig, and Suguru shifts forward in curiosity. “—said no.”

“Nobody’s kissed you?” Suguru echoes and you grimace from the alcohol and the sheer embarrassment, shoving the open bottle to stand in the space between Satoru’s legs.

“Your turn,” you grumble, wiping remnants of the sweet liquor from your mouth with the back of your palm.

And the record skips—

Satoru and Suguru exchange a look, one you immediately assume is them reading each other’s minds and gearing up to laugh in your face.

Truly, you wouldn’t blame them — because here you are about to graduate in a year and still haven’t gotten your first kiss.

And it’s not like you haven’t like… gotten close to it— it’s just that the circumstances are never perfect and other things always get involved and you get all in your head and your mind just starts to do the thing—

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and your palms go clammy, folded over your lap. “We don’t care about it, it’s nothing.” He whispers.

“Pretty sure there’s nobody who even deserves to kiss you anyway.” You glance over to Suguru, who’s already outing his cigarette and scooting closer.

Flip it over

And sit a little closer

If anything, it makes you swell with shame rather than comfort.

“Not like that, I didn’t mean—”

“Great job, Suguru—”

“As if you were doing any better—”

And despite yourself, you chuckle. They’re idiots. God, they’re fools.

Now, how many men have you kissed?

Satoru’s fingers dip under the collar of your shirt, playing around with the loose thread.

They made you laugh, that’s enough for him, always has been. He knows Suguru feels the same, but why… why doesn’t he feel satisfied with just that? Like there's something else he should be doing?

“Not fair,” he mumbles beneath his breath, cheeks flushed as he slumps forward, resting his head in the crook of your neck. You think he might be past his drinking limit, he always gets all babbly like this when he is.

“Not fair?” Suguru questions, resting a hand over his knee.

“Yeah, ‘s just not fair — who wouldn’t wanna kiss her?”

“I’m literally right here—”

“Keep listening then, it’s not like I’m lying or nothing.”

You’re not strong like Satoru and Suguru.

You’d say you’re not as beautiful either, or eve half as smart sometimes – you never compare yourselves to them but in the great grand scheme of things— you’ve never wanted to be kissed anyway, not by anyone you don’t feel for.

Not by someone who doesn’t know you in the ways you don’t want to be known.

Very few

In the way you know Satoru hates alcohol, but he only ever drinks it when you and Suguru are around. The way Suguru never likes taking pictures but manages a smile when you and Satoru pull him in for a group photo.

“If I kissed you, I’d never stop.” Suguru breathes, laying back on the bed, rumble of a sigh leaving his lips.

But you offered me a kiss

In the way they both know what you’re thinking before you even say it. The way grocery runs, 24 hour mart stops, week long missions, midnight talks, belly laughs and breaching curfew feels like a love language – something only the three of you speak – like something so foreign yet so familiar.

Why?

“I don’t think I’d remember to breathe again if I kissed you.” Satoru grumbles in the crook of your neck, somewhere between a yawn and whine. “You could have anyone you want, name, a whole line full of kisses…”

“Never really wanted to be kissed to be honest,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, your eyelids drooping shut.

Such a foolish reason, I’m afraid.

I just wanted… to kiss you.

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #jjk x reader

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beom-pyu · 1 year

Text

cologne ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags; lakeside cabin vacation funtime yay , summer , frenemies w beomgyu , annoyed reader , more friends to lovers bc why not! , some enemies to lovers? , jealous!beomgyu , nsfw , reader is in deep denial , silent pining , can't be a beom-pyu fic without fluff at the end!

warnings: smut (minors dni!) , slight frottage , thigh fucking , jealousy , subtle perv beomgyu? very subtle , beomgyu is a little possessive , cursing , needy beomgyu

( inspiration: cologne by beabadoobee!! literally has nothing to do with the song, but the vibe just reminded me of this fic so! :] )

a/n: just something cute and simple since it's almost summer!!! also, THANK YOU ALL FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!! im oh so grateful for all of you readers and your lovely comments as well as cute tags and reblogs <;3 you guys make my day!!!

wc: 4.1k+

12:01 a.m

you place the last pillow in between your bodies, humming in approval at your makeshift pillow border. you clap your hands once to get beomgyu's attention, the brunette looking up at you with exasperation from the other side of the small bed.

"okay, so the rules are very clear. don't cross this line, don't—"

"don't touch your stuff, and don't talk to you. i know. you've repeated yourself like twelve times," beomgyu finishes your interrupted speech, ending his sentence with a roll of his eyes.

your face contorts into disgust at the boy on the other side of the pillow wall, rolling your eyes back at him. "whatever. don't steal all of the blanket either."

beomgyu's lip curls up in an equal amount of repulsion, running his annoying fingers through his annoying hair. you abruptly turn your back to him, laying down to pull the sheets up to your chin.

it’s just your luck to be stuck with beomgyu for your friend group outing. you are now solidified in your belief that flipping a coin was the most idiotic way to pick roommates.

how did you end up with the single bed and choi beomgyu? this has to be some type of spiritual karma. maybe you should've given up your seat on the bus for that old lady after all.

"don't tell me what to do," he mumbles as he reaches over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table next to him, settling into the covers. you have half the mind to shoot a snarky retort back at him, but you decide to be the bigger person (for once) and just go to sleep.

this does not mean he wins though.

rule #1 (don't cross the pillow border) seems to be the easiest rule to follow. you both sleep with your backs to each other, bodies fully separated by the plush cushions you’d stolen from the cabin’s couch. it may be the littlest bit uncomfortable, but you rather wake up with a stiff back than feel beomgyu's annoying foot touch your leg under the sheets.

a shiver racks down your spine simply at the thought.

rule #2 (don't touch your stuff) is a little harder for choi “annoying bitch” beomgyu, much to your dismay. when you get up at 3 a.m. to pee, you notice your charger plugged into beomgyu's annoying phone, your own phone sitting sadly next to it at a whopping 23%. when did he even…?

you inhale deeply to calm yourself.

now, you would’ve… should’ve chucked beomgyu's phone across the room and poured ice down the back of his shirt in retaliation to breaking your rule, but when you look down at his sleeping face, you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

beomgyu's annoyingly pink lips are slightly parted, his annoying hair all messy and flopped over his annoying forehead into his annoying eyes, and his annoying chest rises and falls deeply.

he looks peaceful. cute, even.

...

wait.

what. the. fuck?

you silently gag at yourself, shaking your head before pulling a face at the passing thought. you must really be sleep deprived if you think choi “assface” beomgyu looks cute right now. even after breaking rule #2 (don't touch your stuff)!

you shake your head, shuffling over to unplug his phone, pretending to hit him with the device before you toss it to the foot of the bed. you happily plug yours back in before carrying on with your mission to the bathroom.

by the time morning rolls around, rule #3 (don't talk to you) is beyond broken.

there is no reason, no reason at all, as to why you are awoken to beomgyu's shouts bouncing off the walls of the small cabin room.

"SPIDER! Y/N, GET UP! THERE'S A FUCKING SPIDER!"

you groan as you try to blink your eyes open to assess the situation, but the blinding sunlight through the sheer curtains of the room burns your corneas, your eyes squeezing shut again.

“just kill it then!” you whine, burying your head back into your pillow in an attempt to tune him out and fall back asleep. you couldn’t have been any dumber though—in a single beat, the warm white blanket over your body is pulled off, the cool morning air attacking your skin immediately. “what’s your fucking problem?!”

“get your ass up and kill it for me!” beomgyu’s annoying voice fills your ears, and that was your final straw, grabbing the pillow from under your head to chuck it in the direction of the noise, successfully hearing a muffled ‘oof’ in the distance. you smile in victory.

“damn, what did i do?”

instead of hearing beomgyu’s complaints of getting hit, you’re instead met with his loud cackles. you peek an eye open to see soobin standing in the doorway with a pout on his lips and a pillow in his hands. wrong target.

“sorry, soobin! i was trying to hit that loser,” you apologize, sitting up to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you point toward beomgyu’s annoying figure. you see soobin give you a small smile, shaking his head slightly, and beomgyu frowns at the name you called him. serves him right.

after a good 5 minutes of soobin attempting to chase down the spider and get rid of it with beomgyu on his tail recording the entire interaction, you manage to drift off to sleep again, happily spreading your entire body out in the starfish position now that you have the bed all to yourself.

another few hours pass before a hand is shaking you awake.

“5 more minutes,” you grumble, turning onto your side to curl up into the fetal position, blanket still long gone.

“c’mon, y/n! get dressed—we’re going to the lake!” kai announces enthusiastically, shaking you again until you finally open your eyes, feeling a little disappointed at the fact that the voice doesn’t belong to beomgyu.

…

only because you're in the mood to argue! that’s why!

that’s totally why…

3:36 p.m

"soobin!" you shout down the trail, waving a bit as said soobin stops in his tracks, turning around to wait for you to catch up. you jog a bit to meet him, a wide smile crossing his face.

"hey y/n. you coming from the lake?" you guys fall into stride together, nodding mindlessly at his words.

"mhm. i forgot a towel.” you motion to your drenched body, and soobin hums in confirmation.

“i’m heading back too. yeonjun’s rod broke,” soobin informs you, holding up the broken fishing rod with a small, sheepish smile. you laugh a bit at the poor sight, covering your smile behind your hand.

“how did that even happen?”

and from there ensued a step-by-step breakdown of how yeonjun managed to break a pro-grade fishing rod, trailing into a bunch of other crazy stories soobin has to tell as you trek to the cabin. once you get back, your stomach hurts from laughing so much. soobin has his arm slung over your shoulders as he continues to tell the most embarrassing story of his life and you just can’t help it.

"stop laughing at me! everyone saw naruto my underwear," soobin whines, but the smile on his face gives it all away.

“maybe stop wearing jeans that are 2 sizes too small? you’re not in one direction,” you tease as you walk into the cabin, slipping off your flip-flops by the door. you hear soobin half scoff and half laugh at your comment, his hand coming to your waist faintly as to move your body so he can slip past.

you see beomgyu sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, watching you guys with narrowed eyes as he bites into an apple slowly. you feel uncomfortable with his intense gaze on you, suddenly aware of the wet bikini on your body, wrapping your arms around yourself self-consciously.

“you try finding a good pair of jeans when you’re 6’1,” soobin retorts, taking his own shoes off before looking around for the fishing supplies. you puff out a chuckle, heading over to the kitchen, you brush past beomgyu’s figure to dig in the freezer, your back fully turned to him.

“you want a popsicle, soobin?” you call over your shoulder as you pick out a strawberry one for yourself and a cherry one for soobin, already knowing his answer.

“yes, please!” he responds in a silly voice and you smile a bit at the action, turning around to make your way back over to him. your brows furrow at the sudden disappearance of beomgyu’s presence but shrug it away, making your way over to your lanky friend.

“did you want me to walk you back to the lake?” soobin asks from where his head is ducked into a closet, sounds of clanking filling the space as he digs around. you think for a moment as you lick your popsicle.

“no, you go ahead. i’m gonna shower and then help taehyun set up the grill,” you respond, soobin letting out a little noise of triumph as he finally locates the fishing rods, standing back up straight.

“thank you,” he speaks as you pass him the popsicle, patting your head affectionately. “i’ll see you later!”

“see you!”

and then he’s swiftly out the door, leaving you alone in the front room of the cabin. you’re reminded of your drenched body when you look down to see the puddle you’ve trailed across the hardwood floor, mentally promising to clean it up before you make your way back to your shared room.

you knock on the door before entering, just in case someone just so happens to be inside changing or something. when you receive no response, you push the door open to see beomgyu on the bed, headphones covering his ears. they don’t seem to be doing the best job though, considering the fact that you can still hear the music blasting through the speakers.

the eardrum damage must explain why he ignored your rules last night. you accidentally let out a cackle at your own inside joke, somehow gaining the attention of beomgyu who looks up at you with startled eyes. he removes his headphones to settle around his neck before the infamous lip curl appears on his face.

"you fucking scared me. why were you creeping like that?" beomgyu shoots towards you, venom in his voice. it doesn’t phase you one bit though, pursing your lips as you shrug your shoulders, licking your slowly melting popsicle as you head over to your bag on the opposite side of the bed.

"i knocked but you didn't hear cause of your loud ass music. not my fault."

you can feel beomgyu's eye roll from behind your head, but instead of receiving a retort back, he remains silent. it’s odd. choi “always has something to say” beomgyu doesn’t have a comeback ready for you? you grab your towel and stand back up to face him, cocking your head. he’s acting weird.

"why are you acting weird?"

very classy.

beomgyu looks up from his phone screen, squinting his eyes at you. his lips are pressed together tightly, his hair messy, and in his eyes like it had been that night, your mind flashing back to his sleeping appearance.

gross. totally not cute. he’s choi beomgyu—so he’s automatically gross. he has to be.

"i'm not..." beomgyu drags out as if he’s unsure of his own statement. "i'm just tired because someone decided to make us sleep in the worst position known to man."

you give him a small glare before focusing your attention back down on your bag to grab your body wash and loofah. a beat passes as he continues.

"you seem to be having fun with soobin though."

your head lifts back up, giving him an inquisitive stare.

“what? you can’t stand seeing me actually happy and not trying to rip my hair out like when i’m around you?” you laugh in amusement, flipping your towel over your shoulder to reduce the clutter in your hands. you could’ve missed it—you almost missed it—the way beomgyu’s eyes slightly dull at your words, nibbling on his bottom lip in thought. you try not to think of it though, walking to leave the room.

“anyways, we’re grilling at the lake in like 2 hours so don’t try to say i didn’t tell you!” and that was that as you exit, an uneasy swirling within your gut.

2:23 a.m

you sit on the edge of the bed as you plug in your phone, making sure its in the outlet on your side of the bed this time to avoid any more rule-breaking. you adjust your tank top as you stand to retrieve some more pillows. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re struggling to ignore the way beomgyu has been acting around you all day.

little touches at the lake, playfully wiping your mouth during dinner, sharing a blanket with you as you all sat around the campfire, his head on your shoulder. maybe he really was just tired today. maybe he was so out of it that he didn’t realize how out of the norm he’s been acting.

it’s not like you hate choi “mr. annoying” beomgyu. that isn’t the case at all! you’d even go as far as to consider him your… friend. he just has a knack for pushing all your wrong buttons, evoking such guttural annoyance out of your body in a way that no one else can. it’s always been that way since the day you first met in high school.

but he’s never been like this, you think as you grab the pillows off of the floor to rebuild your pillow wall. his voice stops your movement, though, your head whipping around to see a freshly showered beomgyu—his hair is all wet and wavy, his skin smooth and golden from the summer sun. the sweatpants he’s wearing hang low on his hips, revealing the waistband of his underwear.

you swallow a bit as your eyes widen at his figure.

only because you’re not used to seeing him in such a minuscule amount of clothes!

yeah… that’s why.

“can we go without the stupid border? my back still fucking hurts from last night,” beomgyu complains as he makes his way over to the bed, looking a little too good in the warm lighting of the bedside table’s lamp, an orange hue casting over his skin.

you’re frozen as you watch the way his muscles move as he climbs into the bed, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. his eyes meet yours, a brow raised in question. you blink, snapping yourself out of whatever trance you were in, clearing your throat as you drop the pillows back onto the ground.

“yea, whatever. just—don’t touch me with your gross feet,” you mumble, slipping into the bed yourself. beomgyu laughs a bit at your words, reaching over to turn off the lamp.

“just my feet, huh? so you wouldn’t care if it were my hands?” he asks, obviously joking—but you feel your stomach swoop slightly at the thought.

no! you’re just tired. it’s been a long day.

“don’t touch me at all, loser. and don’t talk to me either! starting now.” you turn your back to him, a perfect mirror of the night before as you pull the blanket up and over your body. the room is silent other than the slight creaking of the wooden bedframe as beomgyu gets comfortable.

as much as you want to ignore his presence completely, you simply can’t. he’s too close to your body, so close that you can feel his steady breaths on your shoulder, his body heat radiating onto your exposed skin. you try to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to just sleep, but he scoots closer. and closer. and closer—until his chest is fully pressed against your back, a hand coming to rest on your hip.

your heart pounds in your ears as you take in his touch. you should be telling him to get off of you, or push him onto the floor for breaking your rule! but his hand is heavy and hot on your hip, his fingers playing with the hem of your tank top for a second before they dip underneath, splaying his hand out onto your tummy. his touch is hot and searing. your stomach flips at the sensation.

you can feel his dick chub up against your sleeping pants, his hips slowly rutting up against you. you feel heat rush to your core at the simple action, your heart stuttering a bit.

“beomgyu, what are you doing?” you whisper, voice shaky and unstable as you feel him roll his hips onto your ass.

“please, let me break your rules just this once,” he whispers back, deep voice filling your ears, clouding up your mind. his voice is breathy and low, holding you back against him. “i need—fuck, please, i just—”

his words come out sparse as he rolls his hips against yours again. your mouth is dry, unsure if this is even real. the beomgyu you know wouldn’t even dare to be closer than 2 feet near you, and now here he is, begging in your ear.

“what do you need, beomgyu?” you mumble back, biting your lip as he ruts against you a little faster, a small broken moan leaving his lips at the friction. you’re wet—you can feel yourself dripping into your panties as his fingers press into your skin.

“you, y/n. i need y—been wanting you all day,” he whines into your ear, his nose nudging against your shoulder. it’s all too intimate, too intense—and you hate the fact that you like the way his breath feels on the back of your neck. “can i fuck your thighs, please? please, i won’t put it in—just your thighs, please.”

you inhale, wanting to weigh out the pros and cons—but you want him just as badly. your head is nodding before you can even think and beomgyu’s lips press against your shoulder, mumbling thank yous as his hands scramble to pull down your pants and underwear in one swift motion, before pulling his dick out. you feel it twitch on your lower back and you press against him, enjoying the way his breathing picks up a little too much.

you lift your leg a bit so he can slide his heavy dick in between your thighs, his shaft nudged up against your wet pussy. you sigh at the weight, beomgyu’s hand pressing flat against your stomach to hold you in place.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whimpers out as he begins thrusting quickly, going dumb at the way your cunt drips onto his length, easing the glide. you tilt your head back a bit and beomgyu’s immediately kissing up the expanse of your neck, nipping at your skin, moaning in your ear. it’s so lewd and dirty and your hand comes down to rub at your clit, moaning quietly at the relief.

beomgyu notices your movement, brushing your hand away to do the work for you, his soft fingers rubbing delicious circles on your bud as his thrusts quicken, your thighs becoming wet with a mixture of your own slick and his precome. you can’t help the quiet moans falling out of your mouth at the feeling, his fingers moving just right over your sensitive clit, the drag of his veiny dick applying the perfect amount of pressure against your entrance.

“‘m better than soobin. so much better than him. only i can make you feel like this,” he mumbles into your skin, voice high and whiny as he thrusts against you, pressing down on your clit in a way that makes your gut tighten. you can barely process his words—something about soobin?—but you’re too lost in beomgyu’s touch, his hips stuttering against your gushing pussy.

you’re unable to control your noises as your hand grabs onto his wrist, feeling your orgasm rushing upon you quickly. beomgyu’s dick is twitching against your folds and the combination of his breathy moans and stimulation on your swollen bud is too much. your body tenses up as you cum, pleasure washing over you in waves as you whimper in beomgyu’s arms.

“that’s it, baby. cum on my cock—fuck, just like that,” beomgyu talks you through your orgasm, fingers only slowing on your clit as he cums himself. you can feel the stripes of burning cum shoot onto your thighs, his thrusts faltering as he whines, mouth hot against your skin. you lay there catching your breath, head spinning as you gradually come back to reality, beomgyu’s hand still pressed against your rising and falling stomach.

his forehead rests on your shoulder, breathing heavily for a bit before you feel delicate kisses on your skin, trailing up your neck. you lean into his touch, letting those butterflies swarm your stomach again at the little action.

you don’t want to speak first—you don’t know what to say. after all these years of fighting with beomgyu over the pettiest things, all the tension has led up to this point. you aren’t sure how to feel… but you think you kind of like it.

and maybe you kind of like choi “annoying loser” beomgyu as well.

you feel beomgyu slide out from in between your legs, moving over to the other side of the bed in silence. you feel a little disappointed at the disappearance of his touch.

“i’m gonna go get a towel, okay?” beomgyu speaks softly as he moves to stand, pulling his pants back up. his face is flushed and the tips of his ears are bright red, a shy smile on his face.

“okay,” you respond quietly with a small smile of your own, acknowledging the way your stomach flips at the sight of him. what the hell are you going to do now?

it doesn’t take long for beomgyu to return with a wet rag, climbing over the sheets to clean you up. his brows are furrowed as he focuses on his task, and you cover your face in embarrassment at the closeness of it all—with his body in between your legs, gently wiping up the mess he made. you pull your hands away as his movements stop, helping you get dressed again.

his gaze on you is heavy and you try not to meet his eyes, face hot and flustered as the entire situation fully dawns on you. he’s having none of it though, hovering over your body to turn your head so your gaze locks onto his eyes, his blown-out pupils a little too sparkly, making your heart flutter a little too much.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly—gently as if his voice was only made for you to hear. you nod in response. you want to shrink under his inquisitive stare, but there’s nowhere to run as you’re fully caged in by his body.

you see the way his eyes flutter down to your lips for a quick second before they’re glued onto your eyes again. “please don’t tell me you regret that because i don’t. not at all.”

he sounds desperate, pitiful almost, and you reach up to brush the strands of hair out of his face with a small smile. because you don’t regret it either.

“remember that no talking to me rule?” you start, seeing the way beomgyu’s lips pout in disappointment, unsure of where you’re going with this. “how about you kiss me instead?”

beomgyu doesn’t give you a second to breathe before his lips crash onto yours roughly, as if he’s been waiting for this moment for years.

and oh fuck... maybe he has.

you sigh into the kiss, reaching to the back of his neck to bring him closer to you, his body lowering onto yours. his lips are incredibly soft, his weight comforting on top of your body. his hand comes to hold your cheek gently, thumb swiping over your skin. it’s everything and more—it’s something you didn’t even know you had been waiting for.

when he pulls away from you, it’s slow and gentle. beomgyu leans down to press a few more quick kisses onto your lips, a tiny smile settling onto his face as he rolls over to the other side of the bed, pulling you into his arms. you melt into his embrace, resting your head against his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso.

“i swear to god though, gyu. your feet better not touch me,” you mumble into his chest, feeling his body rumble with laughter.

“rules are made to be broken, baby,” beomgyu speaks before his still-very-annoying foot touches yours under the sheets. you squeal in shock at his cold skin, but laughter quickly overtakes any annoyance that was bound to wind up in you.

you’ll let it slide. just this once.

reblogs are highly cherished!

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loveindefinitely · 8 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

10 — I'D KISS YOU AS THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

[I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTEN TO DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED BY TAYLOR SWIFT FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE!]

The wraps, as promised, taste heavenly.

“Fuck,” you moan around a mouthful, covering your face’s lower half with your hand. As you chew around the food, then swallow, you move your palm to beam at Gaz, whose chin rests on his fist, split between watching you eat and looking through a notebook.

“Glad I can add you to my list of customers, Sweetheart,” he smiles, skimming through his book, the lamp standing in the corner of the room your only source of light. It’s well past midnight, now, curtains drawn and the lights of the hallway turned off.

“Seriously,” you use a napkin to wipe at the corners of your mouth, “That was like. Orgasmic.”

He huffs a laugh, dropping his notebook on his bed, arms outstretched behind him as he leans back against them, legs spread. You sit at his small desk, the wooden chair uncomfortable underneath you, but durable.

“Your shoulder feeling alright?” He asks, lazily looking over your form, dark features soft in the dim light. He looks like sin incarnate, and you feel as helpless as a moth to a flame.

Rotating your shoulder a bit, you shrug. “Hardly feel a thing. Get used to the pain, after a while.”

He hums, before moving to stand, heading to his wardrobe and looking through it. Having changed out of his uniform, he now adorns a faded green shirt and deep grey sweats, not unlike your own.

“Looking for Narnia?” You taunt, making sure that the desk is free of crumbs as you stand, moving over to stand behind him. “Think pushing you in could help?”

Moving back, you regret your words as you see the instrument in his hands.

“You…” You swallow. “You play guitar?” Looking to him, entranced by the tendons in his hands, the intricate wood of the acoustic in his gentle grip. The pick hanging from the chain around his neck makes sense, now.

If his cheeky grin is breathtaking in the light of day, it’s deathly stunning in the darkness of night.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” he mocks, giving back what you gave. With a jerk of his head, he encourages you to sit beside him on his bed, which you do quickly.

“Playing and being good at are very different things,” you retort, but you find the usual energy in your words is lacking. You don’t entirely believe them, not with the way you’re watching his hands, the way he so carefully holds the instrument. The way he had so carefully held you.

Positioning the guitar to be played, he leans his head back, looking to the roof with a soft hum, contemplating. Folding your legs beneath yourself, you watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to slowly strum unmatched notes. Gathering a feel for his rhythm, the weight of the guitar in his hands, the tempo playing in his head.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he warns, shooting you a knowing look as he starts to hum along to a broken tune. “I’m not known for my singing.”

Your chuckle is a light, airy thing. “If I know the song, maybe I’ll join in,” you shrug, body loose where you sit.

The lighting, the smell of boy in his room, that masculine scent you can’t quite place, and the heat of his body, it’s all a concoction for comfort. You feel oddly safe, protected, like you belong, maybe, if such a thing is possible for someone like you.

Clearing his throat, Gaz gets comfortable, starting to build a rhythm where he strums his calloused fingers against the strings, his other hand moving around the neck with practised ease.

I loved you in secret

First sight, we loved without reason

Oh, twenty-five years old

Oh, how were you to know?

You feel trapped, almost, fully encompassed by the beauty of his skill, the beauty of his voice – the beauty of him. His hair looks suddenly too pullable, like it exists purely for you to grip onto and hold against your aching body.

When was the last time you’d done anything close to romantic? Sexual?

Being with Graves was like using your own hand. Maybe worse, on a bad day, and it had rarely been a pleasurable experience.

Right here, with Gaz softly playing the guitar, dim light haloed around him, voice velvet against burning hot coal, feels closer to freedom than sex with your Commander ever had.

An angel.

Kyle Garrick looks like an angel.

All smooth skin and dimples, light freckles and saccharine smiles. The light smell of citrus and cleanliness, honey and mildew. With the lamp where it is, it colours the tips of his curls, highlights the depth of his face, the chocolate of his stunning eyes.

Like a punch to your gut, you realise the effect this man has on you.

In a way no one else – not before leaving Graves – ever has.

And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis

People started talking, putting us through our paces

I knew there was no one in the world that could take it

I had a bad feeling

Focused on his hands, the placement, the speed – Gaz doesn’t notice the way you watch him. How you hang onto his every movement, the indent his teeth leave on his lower lip, the dip of his brow, the slope of his nose.

If only you could preserve this moment in time forever.

Where nothing mattered, but you and him. There was no impending doom in the form of Phillip Graves, no distrust in the eyes of Ghost, no haunting spectre from your past.

Just you and Gaz and his music.

Your heart aches with the bittersweet of it all. How nothing would be normal, not after the past few days. But maybe now, just for one night, you could pretend to be normal. Pretend that it was just you and a friend spending time together.

Pretend that everything’s okay, and your world as you know it isn’t falling apart at the seams around you.

Pretend that you’re okay.

I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

If I could dance with you again

He feels so close. In every sense of the world. And you yearn and you yearn and you yearn.

For what? For a sense of belonging? Haven’t you always yearned for that – desperate to hide the loneliness in your chest and replace it with bravado? Pretend that your baggage is simply a crate locked and stored away forever?

The beat in your chest, matching the beat of the song, Gaz’s skillful fingers against the strings. Oh, how you suddenly wish to be a poet, just to capture the feeling within you with mere words against paper.

What was it like to be loved?

Honestly and deeply – earnest and true. To be held against a chest for the simple feat of existing, that very truth alone enough to be deserving of such a gesture. The very thought sounds so perfect, now, to be cherished in such a pure way. But who could give that to you?

Gaz?

A fool’s hope. A fool’s dream.

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

Like it was the first time, first time

Yeah, we were dancing

With the final strum of the final note, you understand what being alive is truly like.

The two of you sit in silence, for a moment, and it’s like a hurricane of emotion and need and want crashes into you all at once, leaving you breathless.

As he, at last, looks back up to you, expression almost shy, every word evaporates from your brain. Like a drop of water against a barren desert floor. Gone.

“How’d I do?” He asks, voice breathy and tense and oh.

You feel so, so utterly lost.

Nodding, hand gripping the sheet atop his bed, you wet your bottom lip. “Good. I’m – you’re really good, Kyle.”

His name tastes like dew on your tongue, a blessing to even say the syllables, form the sounds in your mouth. A gift from the gods, a treasure to be varnished and cared for.

Sparkling brown eyes track the movement of your mouth, his own eyes half-lidded and hazy in the low light, and your stomach heats with something you’re not sure you want to place. Something you’re not sure you’re allowed to.

“We should get some sleep,” you find yourself saying, almost on autopilot.

Gaz nods, eyes still transfixed on your mouth, before shaking his head lightly as if to gather his thoughts once more. He gets up, stiff in his movements, carefully putting the guitar away.

“You sure you’re fine sharing a bed?” He asks, ever careful and gentle.

“Yeah,” you say, a breath, “It’s fine. I’m a soldier, I’ve experienced worse.” An attempt of a joke, one that falls flat in the unbreakable tension of the small room. “Do you have a bathroom?”

He jerks a nod. “The four of us get special treatment ‘round here. Ensuite. Help yourself.”

Getting up on shaky legs, you give him a quick smile, before heading in to brush your teeth and splash your face.

When you look in the mirror, you see a version of yourself that makes you wipe at your eyes.

You look. New. Changed. Different. Any multitude of words to say that you aren’t the same woman that you were days ago. Not the same woman you were under Graves’ leadership, and certainly not the same woman that you were under Shepherd’s training.

If only she could see herself now.

Using the hand towel to wipe off the water, you allow yourself a moment to expel the air from your lungs, and inhale deeply.

Shutting the door behind you with a soft creak, you find the lamp to be turned off, the only light coming from Gaz’s phone as he scrolls through it, laying on his side against the wall.

Awkwardly, you find yourself moving to lay down beside him.

“Sorry,” you whisper when you brush against his arm, the narrow design allowing for next-to-no room for either of you.

Squeezing in closer to the wall, he murmurs back, “It’s alright. Just make sure you’re comfortable.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you get yourself situated, managing to not press against the man again. He’s silent, except for a few breaths, as he looks through his phone. As soon as you’re still, however, he shuts it off, plugging it in and leaving it to sit underneath his pillow.

Sleep clings to your eyelids, a taunting thing, but your body still feels the need to move – to release the energy building up within your limbs.

Minutes pass, like the tick of an analog clock.

It’s about ten minutes of silence, before Gaz breaks it with graceful ignorance.

“You feelin’ alright?” He asks, truly meaning the words – and expecting a proper answer. The ruffle of the singular blanket has you focusing on his movements, but he does nothing more than roll over, facing you now.

“It’s,” you nervously look to the roof, the pitch black of the room doing nothing to aid your internal dilemma. “It’s just a bit cold.”

“It is, innit?” Gaz nervously laughs, and his obvious hesitance, surprisingly, has you more comfortable. You, too, roll over, your faces mere centimetres apart. He seems so warm. Even without the ability to see, you can almost feel his eyes searching your face, desperate for answers to questions he doesn’t want to ask.

What is to live, if not to take risks? The only reason you were here, in this very bed right now was because of a risk, right?

His breath fans against your face, and even that small warmth has you leaning in closer to the Sergeant. As he swallows, it’s an audible sound, the slope of his neck bobbing with the movement.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, a gentle thing, and without a word, you curl up against him.

Bulky, trained, masculine arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in close, sharing the warmth of your body with his own. Your face buries against his shoulder, into his neck, and his scent is so him that it has you burrowing in further. His own hands tighten in the fabric of your borrowed shirt, and what a feeling it is.

You can only wish that you never escape the hold of his arms, if only so you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, without his frame to keep you upright.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he speaks. His hands move in circles, a kind motion, and you melt against him.

His thigh slides between your own, an unexpected motion, and you barely conceal a whimper as it slides against your clothed pussy. The sweats do nothing to conceal the heat, the ache you feel between your legs, and the sudden presence of him has you freezing up.

Without a word, he just lets it rest there, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back.

Your lips fall open, spit-slicken, and your nails bite into his back as he leans in closer, pushing his thigh in closer to your core.

Your breaths become shared in the small space between you two, harried and genuine in the sudden intensity between you both.

“Sergeant,” you breathe, brows furrowed, mouth open as he leans in closer, hands slowly moving from your back, trailing down to your hips, pulling you forward against his thigh.

It's quiet, for a moment, a gentle pause in the current rushing between you both. His hand smoothes over your cheek, cautious and adoring, a reassurance more than anything.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“Colonel,” he returns, and presses his lips against yours.

His mouth moves against your own, sensual and slow, easing in the way he darts his tongue over your lips, meeting your tongue. He tastes like the sweetest of candies, a forbidden fruit’s nectar. Hand moving from your cheek to your neck, he pulls you in closer, turning his head to devour you against his pillow.

A moan slips from you, drowned out by his being melding with your own as he grinds his thigh higher, a perfect pleasure shooting up your spine at the movement.

Thoughts are a difficult thing, at the moment, a rare commodity. When your brain comes back online, you’re sure to hold some regret – but now? With his soft lips on yours, his grip on your neck, the bulk of his thigh? Regret is the last thing on your mind.

When he breaks away, finally, to breathe, a soft sigh escapes his plush mouth.

“Is this okay?” He asks, the words asked in a whisper against the corner of your mouth as he presses gentle kisses along your cheek, the crease of your eye. “Please, love, tell me.”

Your exhale is shaky, but you nod, meeting his lips with a turn of your head. A quick, reassuring exchange.

“Yeah,” you chuckle lightly, thighs squeezing around his, tits pressed against his own flat chest, “This is okay, Kyle.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, a devotion, before moving to straddle you, hands falling into your hair like a lifeline as he ravages your mouth once more. Small nips to your lips, a tongue searching your own, his pelvis pressed tightly against your soaking pussy.

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to breathe as he moves one hand to slowly follow your frame, brushing your collarbones, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. Your nipples feel unbearably tight, achey, and you’re desperate for his touch.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asks – a plea, really. “Let me see your pretty tits.”

You’re nodding, frantic, as he pulls the shirt over your head, helping you sit up a bit to take it off entirely, throwing it to the floor with little care.

His hands are warm against your cold chest, careful as they first graze your tits, both of you letting out tense breaths as he cradles them in his hands, feeling out the weight of them, entranced. The heel of his palm presses against your nipples, and you let out a small cry as he rubs them in those circles he loves so much.

“Shh, Sweetheart,” he whispers, noting your noises. “I’ll take good care of ya. Y’know I will.”

Your eyes shut as he leans in, licking a stripe across the expanse of your breasts, using one hand to squeeze while he uses his mouth to treat your most needy spots.

Hand moving to rest at the nape of his neck, you form a tight fist in his hair, pulling him in closer to your body. He lets out a low hum, the vibration of the sound sending sparks shooting behind your eyelids as he toys with your nipples, meticulous.

“Sergeant,” you whine, breathless, wanting, “Sergeant, please.”

He moves away from worshipping your tits to meet your lips, licking into your mouth with the energy and fervour of a virgin. The brush of your naked chest against his clothed torso has you aching.

“Colonel,” he challenges, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth, drawing a drop of blood, “Let me lick your pussy, love, c’mon. I’ll kiss ‘er real nice.”

You’re helpless to do anything but nod.

With one hand, he undoes the tie of your sweats, pulling down the pants as he goes. Lifting your legs with ease, he takes them off all the way, chucking it over the edge of the bed to join your shirt.

His hands rub soothingly over your bare skin, slowly moving upwards on his knees until he meets your thighs. Leaning down, like a beggar at an altar, he starts to leave open-mouthed kisses on the skin near your pulsing heat, sucking on the unseen area and leaving behind marks. His hands hold onto your hips like they’ll provide him mercy.

Both hands in his hair, lightly pulling, you start to grind against his face when he starts leaving kisses around your folds, fingers leaving imprints with the viciousness of his grasp around your hips.

Your mind feels numb, no goals, no thoughts, other than that of pleasure.

The first lick against your pussy has a desperate whimper bubbling out of you, nails scraping against his scalp as he flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. There’s a viciousness to it, one that he embraces, his teeth softly grazing your tender bud as he caresses you.

“Oh,” you moan, head flung back, mouth fallen open as you grind against his giving mouth. “Fuck. Please. Feels so good.”

He pulls away, just far enough back so his lips brush against your core as he whispers, “Gotta stay quiet, love, yeah?” Smoothing his hand over your stomach, pressing you down further into his bed, you clasp one hand over your mouth.

Smirking against your thigh, he praises, “Atta girl.”

Your lower stomach burns with need, and you feel electricity line your veins as he savours your taste, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his calloused hand. He’s passionate about it, laving over your pussy with precise strokes. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and in response, he only lets out a long, drawn-out moan, muffled by your body.

His finger moves to rub at your entrance, rubbing softly around it, before slowly thrusting his index finger in.

Swallowing a whine, you pull him in closer, your stomach tightening as he pushes in a second finger. He’s good with it – knows where to touch, how deep, the movements. Practised and skillful in his strokes – a musician, through and through.

“God, Kyle, you’re doing so good,” you mumble, hair splayed on the pillow beneath you as you rut against him, using him for your own gain. It feels perfect, the way he’s putting your pleasure over anything else.

So unlike any other man you’ve been with.

“If I could spend my days with you sitting on my face,” Gaz admires, leaning back, heaving deep breaths, continuing to lazily finger you as your grip loosens in his hair, “I’d do it in a heartbeat, Colonel.”

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you order, tightening your grip once more and pulling him back. He goes without a word, energy increasing tenfold, two fingers turning into three. He goes at it like a man starved, and the noises that leave your lips are nothing but sex-addled.

He tries to reply, but it’s muffled as he continues to eat you out, relentless in his devotion to the act.

Hand softly moving from your stomach, he outstretches it, searching for your own hand with small squeezes. When you shakily meet it with your own, he intertwines them, pushing them to the mattress with strength and determination. With every thrust of his other hand, or lick of his tongue, he tightens his grip.

You find your core tightening, your release coming up quick as he plays you like the instrument now lying in his wardrobe. The pure darkness of the room only aids the sensuality of it all, the air existing between just the two of you.

Any thought of right and wrong feel nothing but unnecessary, now, and utterly pointless. What's the purpose of worrying about the morality of it all, when you're both consenting and wanting and ready? When it feels so fucking good to have him servicing you between your legs?

If only you could see him, the beauty of his pussy-drunk face, the glisten of you on the stubble of his chin.

“I'm close, Sergeant, fuck,” you gasp, gyrating your hips against him, his nose bumping your clit where he licks in your entrance.

He doubles his efforts, fingering and savouring and worshipping.

Your release comes when he broadly licks over your clit, fingers pressing against just the right spot inside of you, his moan a small vibration against your sensitive bud. Keening, hand coming up to slam over your mouth, a tear drops from your clenched eyes as you ride out the aftershocks.

Allowing you to use him for the last few moments of pleasure, he doesn’t untwine your hands, but he does stop fingering you to rub at your thigh in reassuring circles.

When your hips start stuttering, your keens turning into overstimulated whimpers, he slowly moves away, licking over the essence coating his mouth and lower face. His hand still remains in your own as he leans in, opening your mouth with languid strokes and smooth kisses. You arch into it, breasts pressing against his still clothed chest.

Breaking away from the embrace, thumb stroking over your inner wrist, he brings up his slicken hand.

“Gotta clean up your mess, love,” he gently encourages, opening your jaw with a soft grip of your chin, before slowly dragging his fingers over your waiting tongue. His breath brushes your cheek as he explores your mouth.

“Sergeant,” you mumble around the intrusion, eyes blissfully shut, “Need to make you feel good too.”

He freezes, a moment, a barely noticeable thing. “Makin’ you feel good got me off. Don’t worry, Colonel – next time.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze as he extracts his fingers, wiping them off on his own shirt. “Next time? I,” you swallow, “What is this, even? What are we doing?”

Reality and consequences and everything hit you all at once, your chest tightening even in the afterglow of your orgasm.

He furrows his brows, untwining his fingers from yours and rubbing soothing patterns over your hand, his other carefully pulling back your messy hair behind your ears. “We can’t tell the guys,” he admonishes, slowing his movements as he realises. “We can’t – they’ll crucify us both, and –”

“And?” You ask as he trails off, your brows matching his, now, as he rolls to his side, pulling your back to his chest. He rubs at your waist, your hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

“Nothing,” he’s quick to amend, “Don’t worry about it. Just… focus on the feeling. Gonna be a shit show, the next couple of days. Lay with me, get some rest.”

You hum, non-committal. Relaxing further against him, his head resting in the crook of your neck, your breaths come out slow and calm. “You and Price,” you start, a niggling in the back of your mind that yearns for information causing you to speak the words. “The two of you – you’re different.”

He halts his movements, head slowly moving back from your neck. “What – what do you mean?”

Hand searching behind you, you pull him back in, his head burrowing further against your shoulder, your skin. You try and think of the best way to put it, the comfortable silence helping you gather your thoughts as you do.

“You’re… You like him, don’t you?”

Gaz’s responding laugh is grating, a choked off thing, a sad one. Your heart sinks to your feet, his body suddenly stiff against your own.

“No. I don’t like my Cap,” he huffs, indignant. Like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever said, and not something based on quiet observation.

“You’re sure? Or is it just that you think he doesn’t like you?”

He pauses. Stilling, but processing your words for what they are. His response is a sceptic, “Like is a juvenile idea, anyways, Sweetheart.”

“I like you,” you admit, words soft as they leave your mouth, kind. Genuine.

“If it was that simple, everyone would be too busy getting with everyone they liked to live,” he admonishes, just as soft, as respectful. He’s so introspective – the most underestimated of the 141, but the most receptive. Understanding and watchful.

“It can be that simple. Sometimes.”

“Didn’t realise you were a dreamer, Colonel.”

“What else combats the nightmares?”

Silence. Your most common enemy and foe, fills in the blanks between you both. He holds you against him tight, now, like you’re an anchor, and he’s a yacht in the stormiest of seas.

“We can’t tell ‘em,” Gaz states after the silence takes hold for minutes on end. “We’re dead if we do – can’t let ‘em figure it out, either.”

“It was just a lapse in judgement,” you say, not believing the words as they fall from your lips. Hate yourself for saying them. “No one has to know. I’ll be out of your hair after this is all done with, anyways.”

He doesn’t respond to that. Not for a long while.

It’s only when you’re a single step away from sleep that he does.

“I really hope that’s another lie, Sweetheart.”

“Gaz, Sweetheart – get yer arses up, Laswell got more intel!”

You groan, lazily rolling onto your back, body burning hot from your bedmate’s clinging form. His arms hand around your waist, his entire being pressed against you, snoring softly where his chin rests atop your head.

Wiping at the sleep from your eyes, bleary and tired, you groan when Gaz just squeezes you tighter, pressing his face to your bed-hair.

That same voice calls from outside the door once more, loud knocking following his Scottish lilt.

“Aye swear to god, if either of ye are naked or I see jizz–”

“We’re up! We’re up!” You call out, cheeks heating from how on the nose his joking goad is. “Give us a minute!”

“Hurry up, Sweetheart, or aye will carry ye out over my bloody shoulder.”

Gaz yelps when you scramble out of bed and pull the covers clean off, uncaring of your naked frame as you hop on one leg to tug on the spare sweatpants from last night.

He shoves a pillow over his eyes as you rip open the window’s curtains, allowing the late morning light to filter in as you tug on your shirt. His sweatpants hang loosely around you, and you tie them off with one hand while the other pulls at his arm.

“Gaz – get up!” You hiss as he tries to hit your arm away, you dodging every half-hearted swing with ease. “Unless you want Soap to come in and –”

“Fuck, woman, I’m up!” He instantly acquiesces, sitting as soon as the name Soap leaves your mouth.

You try to hide your smirk, but you obviously fail miserably, as a moment later a pillow is flung into your face. Hands on your hips, you raise a brow, glaring at the man rubbing his palms over his eyes.

Moving to the door, you open it, focusing entirely on not looking like the cat who got the cream.

Technically speaking, Gaz fit that description more accurately, but you weren’t about to get into the logistics. Not when Soap looks at you, then over your shoulder, then back at you. You swallow.

“Mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he winks, and you barely suppress a groan. He pulls you in with an elbow around your neck, rubbing at your bed hair with a chuckle. “Or is Rapunzel more fittin’?”

“If she’s Rapunzel, you’re the bloody chameleon, you twat!” Gaz calls from further in the room, walking over to join the two of you while latching his watch around his wrist. It’s silver – not too over the top, but good quality, too.

Your cheeks ache with the smile stretching your face, following as Soap swings his elbow around yours, and Gaz follows behind with a hand on your lower back.

“What kinda intel?” You ask around a giggle, and you realise your mistake as the mood sours almost immediately.

Soap nervously darts his eyes to the surrounding hallway, as if the metal will provide him answers. They don’t.

“Soap?” Gaz, too, asks, hand moving to between your shoulder blades in a comforting gesture.

His blue eyes meet yours. Guilty, almost, pitiful. As if he knows the next statement will ruin your fantastic mood, the jovial air between the three of you.

When he says it, he does so with a firm expression.

“We got intel on Shadow Company – and where to find the deal Graves made with Shepherd.”

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baby-yongbok · 3 months

Text

Seventeen

Best friend!Lee Know x Afab!Reader

Genre: Friends to lovers?? Angst?? Fluff??

Summary: Mysterious letters from a stranger made you fall in love despite your best friends apprehensions. You think back to every moment that's led to you meeting your secret admirer but the memories do little to prepare you for the mystery you're about to uncover.

Word Count: 2.4k A/N: This is a repost because I just kinda... wanted to repost it? Idk. I don't think that it did as well as it could the first time so here we go againnnnnn!

❋ Italicized parts are flashbacks

❋ This One shot was inspired by the song i love you by Billie Eilish

✧ Masterlist ✧

Six months of mystery has led you to this moment. You started getting letters from a stranger, dainty decorated notes with cursive words declaring their undying admiration for you and all that you are. You’ve never been the type of person who’s felt seen by those around you, you’ve grown content with floating in the background and only being heard when someone chooses to unmute you. Maybe that’s why these letters felt like a thunderbolt hitting uncharted territory. Maybe that’s why each word that you read when you plucked the baby blue stationary from your mailbox made you feel dizzy as you burned with the desire of a thousand suns.

“You don’t even know who’s sending these letters. What if it’s some creep?” Your best friend, Minho, grumbled on the other line as he struggled to give his stubborn cat her medicine.

“No creep could ever write the things I’ve read. He’s emotional and profound and - and he’s…” Your mind wanders off into a daydream as you think of all that he could be.

“A stranger, he’s a stranger. Listen, I’m all for fairy tales but I don’t want you getting hurt. Just let me take you if you decide to meet the guy.” You huff, he’s right he is a stranger and you shouldn’t meet with this guy alone. “I’ll hide behind a tree or something.”

You giggle at the thought but agree happily. “If that’ll make you happy then sure. I’ll let you know when he can meet me.”

“Thank you.” A comfortable silence settles on the line before Minho speaks again. “Wait, how do you know that he’ll want to meet up? He doesn’t put a return address, you can’t send him anything back.”

“He’ll want to meet, I just know it.” You stare up at the ceiling with stars in your eyes and butterflies in your stomach. Minho scoffs on the other line.

“You’re so hopelessly romantic that it’s sickening.”

You sat knee to knee with Minho on the Subway, three more stops and you’d be there. Three more stops and your prince charming would be sitting and waiting for you by Gapstow Bridge. You’ve been to Central Park dozens of times since you’ve moved to the city but nothing could ever top this. You watched as people piled on and off of the subway car, eyes glued to their phones and headphones blasting music or some mystery podcast that would keep them up all night but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to anything other than the hammering of your heart in your chest, what if his is beating at the same rhythm?

“You really don’t have to go with me. I’m a big girl. You have to go all the way back to Korea the day after, you should be packing and resting and spending time with the cats and -” Minho nudged your shoulder as he glared at you with narrow feline eyes. He looked annoyed but you could tell that he was amused.

“I want to take you, let me see Central Park one more time before I have to leave for half a year.” a weak chuckle escapes you but it quickly drags off into a despondent sigh.

“I don’t want to go either, trust me, but I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll video call in the middle of the night and early morning and we’ll use our friendship lamps and you can send me a million pictures of Central Park in the winter. I know how much you love Gapstow Bridge.”

“It’s beautiful when it’s covered in snow, really. You have to see it in person, there’s nothing else like it.” You force a smile onto your lips but Minho doesn’t have to pretend. His smile is genuine, it’s just the effect that you have.

“Promise to spam my phone?” He holds out his pinky, his boba eyes upturned at the corners. You can’t help but to smile back, your doe eyes turning into shining moons that no lunar eclipse could rival.

“Promise.”

You turn to look out of the window as the train turns the last bend to your stop. You gasp, a smile spreading over your lips and a plum colored blush adorning your chilled cheeks.

“Min! Min, it’s snowing. It’s sticking, look!” You tap your best friend, he’s been fiddling with his fingers the entire ride. His usual jokes have been nonexistent this evening, maybe he’s nervous for you. He seemed so worried after all. “I get to spend the first snow with you!”

You smile over at him, eyes wide like Venus or maybe the moons of Saturn would be a better comparison. No matter the celestial object they could never compare to the shine of your hazel orbs. They are mere specks found in the never ending galaxy of your irises.

“Maybe this is a sign of good luck.” He grins as his eyes scan the scenery. “Maybe you can make a wish on a snowflake tonight.”

“Look who’s being a hopeless romantic now.” You stick your tongue out at him, squinting your eyes and shaking your head playfully. He huffs a laugh with the crooked smile that he’s known for as he watches you. “Oh! This is us, let's go!”

You grab his hand and pull him out of his seat as you race towards the sliding subway doors. You race up the subway steps, your agile friend trailing behind you quickly with a tight grip on your hand. Once you make it to the top you stop and stare. A thin layer of icy white covers the street and sidewalks. You watch with wide eyes as the slush settles onto the tree branches and falls around you like feathers during a pillow fight. Soft, pretty, comfortable.

“Are you sure that you want to do this? He could be a creep, ya know.” Minho has asked the same question about fifteen times since the two of you started walking to the train station and your answer has been the same every. Single. Time.

“I’m positive and if he is, which I doubt that he will be, you’ll be there to do a quick one two jab and save me.” An eye roll and a sigh are all that he offers you as the two of you make your way down the steps to the station.

“Just… prepare yourself okay? You really don’t know what you’re walking into and I don’t want you to walk out of there with a broken heart.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl, remember?” You take the lead, heading for the turnstile and swiping your MetroCard. You walk through just as you hear the train pull up and turn to Minho with wide eyes of excitement, your heart is still full, he can’t let that be taken away by someone no matter how infatuated you are with them. “It’s here, come on! Run!”

You run up the metal stairs, the heels of your boots making a song out of each step and Minho follows right behind you, jumping the turnstile and running quickly as he ignores the staff yelling for him to pay. He’s sure that he’ll pay soon, he’ll pay in a currency greater than any atom in his body can handle.

“There! He said to meet him on the bridge.” You jog towards the attraction that’s always held a special place in your heart. The stunning aged stone and the shining water underneath it made for a beautiful scene. “I don’t see anyone yet though.”

You walk up the slope of the bridge, squinting into the evening darkness. The sun set two hours ago but the lights of the surrounding buildings make up for the stars absence. Despite the orange of the surrounding lights, the air is cold. Your presence is all that makes the atmosphere feel warm. Comfortable.

“Maybe we should just -” You turn to Minho, your fingers laced together across your chest. Your black gloves that are slightly too big slipping up your wrist.

“He’ll be here. He wouldn’t let me down.” Minho sighs, looking over towards the small lake with crisp leaves flowing with each careful ripple that the wind creates. Maybe that’s how this will go, it’ll be smooth like he’s guided by the wind. Certainly he won't shatter the universe in your eyes.

“Y/n.” It was barely a whisper but you heard him. You’re on your toes looking in the other direction when he calls your name but you snap your neck to look up at him. That sparkle in your eyes is so bright. “I’m so sorry.”

“What do you mean?” He can see it, a star dying in real time. What kind of monster would do this?

“When I- It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” The tear that trails down Minho’s cheek is nearly turned to crystal by the cold bite of the winter air. It blows his parted hair as he stares down at you. You’re putting it all together. The stars dimming at a pace that would leave NASA baffled, confused, anxious.

“Minho, stop messing with me.” You smile and for a second he thinks that he can see them come back. For a second he can spot Orion and the big dipper seems to take one last breath but when he looks away, when he squeezes his eyes shut and chokes back a sob, that’s when the lights go out.

Minho’s never seen a shooting star, he’s never seen light fall at such an alarming rate that we call it beautiful and now he wishes that he never had. He hates that the one time that he got to wish upon a falling star was when he broke your heart.

“When I started sending them I thought that I had more time, I thought that we…”

“It was you?” A tear trails down your cheek as you whisper, your once sparkling eyes are clouded with frost as the snowflakes catch and melt on your lashes. “You knew about every letter, I read them to you, I told you everything but you already knew because you - you wrote them.”

“I had to tell you. I had to tell you how I felt I couldn’t take it anymore; it was eating me alive. It was killing me.” He turns to you, tear stains on both of his blushed cheeks. His eyes are glazed with worry, panic, and so much love. They’re packed with so much adoration that you wonder how you ever missed it in the first place. “Not being with you was killing me. I just - just wanted to tell you and then I got that damned call. If I would've known that I'd get called back to Korea I wouldn't have done this.”

“How long have you known?” You cross your arms, staring at his chest rather than his face. “You sent twenty-six letters… which one did you send after you found out that you had to leave?”

“Please.”

“Which one?” Your voice is weak, hoarse with sentiment as you hold back the hurricane of emotions in your chest.

“Seventeen.”

“Wow.” Your mouth hangs open in a silent cry of disbelief as you turn to look into the distance of the dark park.

“I should’ve told you, I know that. I should’ve stopped and confessed I shouldn’t have done this to you but - but you looked so happy. You were so in love with being seen and I was so proud of you for finally believing that someone sees you. That’s all that I’ve ever wanted” You scoff, laughing a bit as you blink up towards the sky, welcoming the snowflakes onto your skin, offering them a safe place to melt as you come undone in the night.

“Did you have to do it like this?”

“You love Gapstow and I knew it would snow.” You huff, grinning sadly. You turn to face him again, large eyes searching his anxious ones. He can see the wounds that he’s created but of course you make it look beautiful. Of course your wounds bleed constellations, he’d expect nothing less from you.

“You never cry.” It’s his turn to grin now.

“You make me do a lot of things that I said I never would.”

“Like what? Write twenty-six love letters and sneak them into my mailbox?” You chuckle, are your stars coming back?

“Like love. Believe in love enough to give it a chance. Fall in love so hard that I profess my endearment on expensive stationary just so I can see you smile. Even if you didn’t know that you were smiling for me, because of me.”

“Minho…”

“I’m an idiot and I don’t deserve to love you.” His words are rushed as he smiles down at you. They're a sad and pitiful attempt at masking how much he hates himself right now. It's an attempt to hide how much he wishes he could take this all back and call it all a joke just to see you shine like you did a bit ago. “I don’t deserve to have you love me back either.”

“But I do.” Another tear escapes the floodgates behind your eyes and the hurricane in your chest grows stronger. “I do and I have for so long.”

He stares at you with tears falling faster than before, they chase each other down his cheeks and drip off at the edge turning into snowflakes themselves. Maybe he can make a wish on one.

“I don’t want you to love me.” He chokes out as he blinks the tears away.

“It wouldn’t make you leaving hurt any less. I’d just be losing a different version of you.”

“I put every ounce of myself in those letters, as long as you have them you’re never losing me.”

The thread behind your eyes snapped in that moment and it sent your hurricane of emotions free from your chest. You expected for the trees around you to be lifted up into the air. You expected for you and Minho to be whisked away as you twirl like ballerinas in violent gusts of frigid air but it never came. All that visited you were tears as you began sobbing into your hands.

Your oversized glove slipped to your fingertips, holding on desperately just as you were. Minho wasted no time before wrapping you in his arms, you clung to his chest like a sad child on the playground. Whining sobs into his coat as he quietly matched your emotion.

He knew it. He knew he’d pay for this in a way much bigger than him. He knew he’d empty your heart once you found out but he was selfishly in love with you. How could he confess to you like this when he knew he had to leave?

He should’ve stopped at letter Seventeen.

This fic was also heavily inspired by this photo of the Gapstow Bridge in Manhattans Central Park:

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

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luvxkdrama · 2 years

Text

— destiny

pairing : chishiya x reader

warnings : mentions of blood and guns

word count : 1.2k

summary : He finds you unconscious at the place where he usually stays

a/n : season 2 spoilers (mentions of Chishiya’s past)

—

It was another successful game for Chishiya, who was now on his way back to his place. Although he solves the games easily, they tire him a lot so afterwards he wishes nothing more than to fall into the arms of Morpheus.

As he was walking down the road, he noticed small stains of blood that lead directly to his hiding place. It didn’t faze him, however he was intrigued where they possibly came from.

Chishiya slowly went up the stairs and the cold air was filled with a strangely familiar, floral smell. However, he couldn’t really tell where he knew it from.

When he entered the dark room, he slightly flinched at the sight in front of him. Blood was dripping down your arms and legs while you were laying unconscious on his mattress. Chishiya could tell you were asleep but your heavy breaths indicated that the wounds didn’t let you rest peacefully.

“Well, that was certainly unexpected.” He commented and was about to leave the room when he suddenly noticed something.

The room was swamped in darkness but thanks to the moonlight, he perceived a shiny bracelet on your left wrist. Chishiya frowned at the accessory, remembering how he gave the exact same one to his lover before he joined the Borderland.

It was a gift for your one year anniversary so he wanted to find something special and unique. Chishiya found a beautiful bracelet and when he went to buy it, the seller told him there were only two bracelets like this in Japan so your boyfriend knew he found the perfect gift.

Chishiya rolled up his sleeve and looked at his wrist which had the exact same bracelet that he saw on you. While he was carefully analysing them both, Chishiya suddenly felt a gun against his forehead.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, weakly seeing the person that was crouching down in front of you.

“I can ask you the same thing. That’s the place where I usually stay at.” He chuckled, amused by the situation.

Your heart skipped a beat after hearing his voice that was strangely familiar to the man you fell in love with, before you were thrown in this horrific world. Without wasting time, you reached to grab a flashlight and gasped when you recognised Chishiya.

He was blinded by the sudden light so you caught him off guard when you threw yourself in his arms, making you fall on top of him while his back hit the ground.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You sighed, burying your face in the crock of his neck.

“Y/N?” He whispered, finally recognising your voice.

Chishiya ran his fingers through your hair and took in your floral scent that made him feel at home.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, gently grabbing your face in between his hands. “You should be in our house, peacefully reading your favourite book or dancing to the random songs you hear on the radio, not here brushing against death in some stupid games.” He groaned, not bearing the thought of losing you.

“I’m sure I’ll be safe now that I’m with you.” You smiled at him and leaned in to connect your lips together.

He wouldn’t admit it but you knew he missed you as much as you did by how firmly his arms were wrapped around your waist.

You completely forgot about your multiple wounds until Chishiya’s felt something warm and wet dripping down his hand and he immediately remembered the state he found you in.

“Wait here.” He helped you lay down on the mattress and went to grab the first aid kit he found in a store, while you turned on the small lamp you brought with you.

Although Chishiya saw your whole body more than once, he couldn’t help but get flustered at the sight of it after you took off your shirt that was practically soaked in blood and your pants.

“When does your visa end?” He asked while cleaning up the wounds.

“In three days. Today’s game was a mess that’s why I have a blood everywhere. The group against which my team was playing would throw the most random things at us and fight with us afterwards. Only three people out of 16 survived, so it’s honestly a miracle I’m now here talking with you.” You softly caressed his cheek.

“From now on, we’ll participate in games together. If one day, only one of us will have to survive, it will be you.” He seemed completely calm as such words rolled out of his mouth.

“We both know how much smarter you are than me so there’s a much higher chance that you’ll finish all the games. I want you to go back to the real world and start a family like you’ve always dreamed of. I’m sure you’d find someone that would fill your life with love.” Your own words hurt you but at the same time, you truly hoped the best for him.

“I don’t want to finish my life with someone else, I want you.” He protested and went back to clean your wounds in silence.

You noticed his bracelet and smiled at the fact he brought one for him as well in order to have matching accessories.

When you first started dating, he wasn’t fond of physical touch or matching couple things but with time he changed, after realising how safe and loved he felt in your company. Chishiya also realised how pleasant someone’s touch can be and how his death didn’t scare him if it meant the person he loves would survive.

Now, one of his hands gently caressed your skin to take your mind away from the wounds that could possibly be hurting you.

“Your wounds aren’t too deep but you have to rest a lot for them to heal quickly.” He put the first aid kit away.

“Thank you, doctor.” You chuckled and planted a soft kiss on his lips once he came back.

“I’ll bring you something to eat.” He was about to get up but you quickly wrapped your hands around his wrist.

“Stay here with me, we’ll eat later.”

Chishiya couldn’t resist so he laid down next to you on the mattress, being extremely careful to not hurt you. You couldn’t help but put your head on his chest and intertwine your legs together. Your sudden clinginess made Chishiya smile and he gently ran his fingers through your head, knowing how much it helped you to fall asleep.

“I love you.” You whispered, slowly drifting off to sleep.

His soft kiss on your head spoke a thousand words at once and you knew it was his way of saying it back.

As long as you had him by your side, you believed everything will be alright.

#chishiya imagine #chishiya icons #chishiya fluff #aib chishiya #chishiya headcanons #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya angst #chishiya fic #chishiya x you #Chishiya #alice in borderland #arisu imagine

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lucid-loves · 8 months

Text

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, plot, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Synopsis: After Makarov gets away again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you with each interaction.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

You’ve always been a light sleeper, if you could even be called that. The truth was that you hardly slept at all. Bedtime was always more like cat-nap time. Light, soundless, ready to pounce at the sound of dust falling to the floor. That’s how you trained yourself and the habit stuck, even if you don’t take missions anymore. It was hard to deprogram a killing machine.

The two years have been peaceful even if you were always on edge. Semi-retirement has been kind in only giving you the sounds of the forest trees in the wind, the gentle rush of the creek, birds singing every morning, and most importantly, no visitors. The world didn’t know that you existed and you preferred to keep it that way for as long as you could. While you did feel the phantom blood dripping down your hands every now and then to an unsettling reminiscent degree, you did like this little slice of heaven that was your off-grid cabin. It was a good place to be before you undoubtedly go to hell in the end.

You were in your bed when you heard the rustling of the forest floor just outside your window. Steps. But not the steps belonging to a fox or bear you have learned to recognize over time. These were the steps of a man. No, multiple men. The way the foot falls of a man walking is an undeniable melody you have heard thousands of times. In the dead of night, you bolted up out of bed and reached for your throwing knife and a pistol, always kept at your bedside. Like a thief in your own home, you silently followed the sounds outside along the walls until you reached the living room. They were going to come in through the front door.

Under the cover of darkness, you readied your aim at the door. To your surprise, they were messing with the keypad that locked your house down, inputting codes with a subtle click and then beep of a correct code. No one should know the code except for two people. Laswell and yourself.

As soon as the door revealed moonlight and a silhouette, you fired your gun. A warning shot. Grazing right past neck. The men stopped and immediately aimed their own rifles, but the one in front held his hand up in surrender. Following orders, the rifles were lowered. You were the first to speak, your voice dripping with venom. “State your purpose and maybe I won’t kill you all where you stand.”

A gentle yet deep Liverpudlian accent voiced back. “Easy now. We don’t mean harm. Laswell sent us here. Code Swan.”

“Song?” You replied, your muscles still tense, unwilling to lower your defenses until the full code was complete. It is what ensured both yours and Laswell’s safety.

“Black Death.” He replied back. You stayed in position for a few moments before finally sighing and lowering your weapon. You turned on a table lamp next to you to get a better look at the intruders. Four men stood in your doorway. One with a fishing hat, one with a mohawk, one with a baseball cap, and one with a skull mask. They were all tall, big with muscle, and seemingly not American from their patches. An interesting bunch to say the least.

“Fucking Laswell.” You cursed Kate’s name. She should have contacted you about this. You were just about to paint the porch with her mens’ brains. You hated surprises. You often killed them before finding out the intentions.

With a wave of your hand, you invited the men to come into your cabin. They cautiously came in, surveying the layout and now understanding what Kate meant when she said that you were “belligerent.”

You turned on the main lights and tried to get a fire going to relieve some of the autumn chill that had crept through the house. Their leader began to unload his things on the kitchen table, sighing from the weight relief. His men joined in, save for one. You could feel his eyes on you as you encouraged the fire. You didn’t even have to look back to know that he was watching your every move.

“It’s rude to stare.” You warned curtly as you stood and turned. The man in the skull mask and balaclava didn’t avert his gaze.

His voice was rich and gruff like gaboon ebony. His Manchester accent came clear as day. “You’re half naked.”

He was referring to the large band shirt and boyshort panties that you were wearing. What did he expect from someone that thought that enemies were breaking in? You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I’m in my pajamas. Besides, a good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by any amount of nudity.”

His blue eyes narrowed at your dig. He was a good soldier. An excellent soldier actually. One of the best. But excellent, good, or bad, no one would be able to resist staring at your figure. The exposed thighs, the large neckline of the shirt hanging off your shoulder, various scars scattered across skin like an abstract painting. He’s never seen anyone like you before.

Too bad you had a combative mouth.

Before he could get a word in, you had walked off into the kitchen, not bothering to go get pants on. It was your home for fuck’s sake. Besides, there were more pressing matters than your clothes or lack thereof.

You began to pull out all the food you had out of your fridge. Everything from deli meat to leftover lasagna was being laid out on the large quartz island. You weren’t going to heat anything up or make something new, but the laid out spread would be enough. You weren’t a completely heartless host. Just a bare minimum one.

Once the food was out for pickings, you headed back near the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. The boys had maps, blueprints, and laptops covering every surface of your table. Your beautiful, hand-made pine table. This was to be their new safehouse for now. Hopefully not for too long.

“Captain, it’s connecting now.” The one with the mohawk called out. The captain came right over to greet the screen.

“Laswell, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, John. Did everything go well?” Kate chipperly asked. You haven’t heard her voice in a long while. You almost forgot how nice her voice actually was.

“She nearly shot my fuckin’ neck off.” Mohawk-guy grumbled.

Kate gave a light, short laugh. “Sounds like it went smoothly then. The best that it could be. She there?”

All four men looked up to you, expecting you to come over and face Laswell through the screen. However, you stayed where you were. Instead, you spoke loud enough for your friend to hear. “Kate Laswell.”

“Hex, I’m sorry that I couldn’t warn you about this beforehand. You know I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t an emergency situation.” She began to apologize and justify. It was always an apology followed by a justification. You wondered if she even ever means her apologies, but in the end, you never really cared enough. However, now it is different.

“I don’t exist, Kate. And now four new people know that I do. . .” You retorted back.

It was silent for a moment, the tension in the air thick. She was on the other side of the screen, but it felt like you were going to get into a physical fight with her anyways. “They’re trustworthy. I trust them with my life and the lives of millions upon millions. Just like I trust you. And as the only people that I trust, I need you to help them.”

“They have already taken over my home. What more do you want from me?” You clenched your jaw, trying to prepare yourself for an answer you probably wouldn’t like. Like hell were you going to play dorm mother to them and like hell you were going to just move out. The last thing you wanted was to take care of these men longer than necessary. This was already pushing that line for you.

“Athame.” She bluntly said. That was the worst answer she could have said. The confused looks the men gave each other made you grateful for a fleeting second. They didn’t understand your secret codes and languages. But they will soon.

Your jaw was clenched so hard that your teeth ached. You damn near cracked them. While your voice before was dripping with venom, it was now drowning in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hex, I-”

You finally came over, nearly pushing the captain out of the way in your warpath. Through the screen, Kate could see how angry you were. Not just angry, furious. She steeled herself, ready for your onslaught of curses, stopping herself midway through her explanation. “I don’t do this shit, Kate! I work solo for a very particular fucking reason. And now you want me to work with four strange men?! Now you want me to play nice?! I’m not a fucking soldier that can just be ordered around!”

“I know! I know. . . But. . . we’re desperate. I’m desperate, Hex. Please, this is the last favor I will ever ask from you. This is an awful target we’re talking about. Someone that is better off in this world dead.”

“You mean Makarov, right? Why should I clean up your government’s fuck-up? Again, might I add.” You spat. You lived off the grid and weren’t a citizen of anywhere, but you still watched the news. You always knew what was going on in the world among other secrets. Makarov was a threat to the world, but as far as you were concerned, it wasn’t your problem. If anything, the government needed this lesson as a direct consequence of their negligence and incompetence.

“Because Chalice.” She simply stated, knowing that her final word was a last ditch effort. Chalice was an agreement that you two had made long ago. It could only be used once in your lives, a truly desperate resort for help. If one of you uttered it, then the other would have no choice but to help, no matter the request. That was the law between your friendship, among other things. The other code words were favors, but this was the ultimate one. Life or death.

You considered punching the laptop in anger. Right at Kate’s face. You didn’t like her call for Athame or Chalice, but now you didn’t have a choice but to comply. It didn’t mean that you weren’t still furious though. “Fuck you, Kate.”

“Thank you, Hex.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to tell you more about what she needed from you, but she knew that you had to cool off first otherwise you would burst into flames. That would've made things harder for all of you. So, she nodded as a signal for dismissal which you gladly took. You retreated to your room, locking the door shut and basking in the darkness.

You could feel the blood boil within you. It burned your insides and choked you. Grabbing your pillow, you pressed it against your face and screamed out your frustration. When that didn’t help, you punched the exposed logs of your cabin wall until your knuckles were splintered and bleeding.

Ghost sat on the couch, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. The rest of the meeting with Laswell was brief, wanting them to try to decompress for the next several hours. Sleep, eat, process. All in the comfort of an assassin’s home.

Compared to your personality, the cabin was decorated warmly. Everything was cozy, earthy, and fresh. The fire crackled comfortably, the plush couch was broken in, and every wooden piece of furniture looked hand-made. Bookshelves were filled with classic books and another shelf collected various music records. The only thing that seemed out of place was the lack of real personal mementos. No pictures, no art, not even knick-knacks. The others didn’t seem to notice or care as they picked through the food left in the kitchen. But for Simon, it left him uneasy.

He recalled the briefing before they were sent to the middle of nowhere to you. Kate said that you were an old friend of hers from high school. You have been friends ever since, but you were different than most people. You were a deadly assassin unknown by the world. No records, no pictures, not even a birth certificate. You handled delicate problems with grace and grave justice. You always worked alone, you didn’t trust others, and you were deadly. Everything about you was a secret until Kate made the crucial choice to ask for your help. Hell, they didn’t even know your call sign until Kate said it over the video call.

“You should eat, Lt. There’s a lot of options, but they’re dwindling fast.” Soap patted him on the shoulder, awakening him from deep thought. Ghost looked up at the sergeant, watching him stuff a sandwich into his mouth. It looked like all the deli meat from one packet was in between the bread. No lettuce or tomato.

“In a bit. I’m gonna talk to Hex real quick and ask some questions.” He replied and got up from the couch.

Soap swallowed nervously. “Kate said that she’s gonna need time to cool off. . .”

“Our new member is part of the team now. She’s gonna have to get used to us even if she wants time for herself.” He justified it with a shrug of his shoulders. Soap shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, knowing that what Simon was about to do was most likely going to be a bad idea.

Ghost walked down the hall, observing each door as he passed them. Most of them were slightly open revealing extra bedrooms, an office, and a bathroom. Only two of them remained closed, both locked with keypads. For a second, he wondered which bedroom was yours before he could hear the sound of light music behind one of them along with swearing. It made him wonder what was behind the other door that was locked down.

Deciding to let it go for now, he approached your door and knocked. “Hex, open up.”

He heard you let out a frustrated groan before the door opened up. It was only just enough to see you, the pure darkness behind you, and the blood dripping down your fists. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow that you couldn’t see behind the mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize what you had done. “Are you done throwing a temper tantrum?”

You scowled at him, a fire in your eyes that made Simon’s heart skip a beat which confused him. He wasn’t afraid of you, so why would his heart alter its beat for you?

“If I knew that you were just going to insult me, I would’ve shot you dead on my porch.” You bitterly snapped, moving to close the door in his face. However, Ghost stopped it from slamming and took your hand in his, observing the damage you’ve done to yourself.

Your breath caught in your throat. Electricity ran through you at his touch. When was the last time someone has touched you? You attempted to pull back, but his hand firmly gripped yours. “Hey! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Calm down and let me see. It hurts, doesn’t it? Stings?”

You narrowed your eyes, but eventually nodded. It did sting and the dripping blood already stained your carpet. However, you could take care of it yourself. You didn’t need some man coming in to try to fix you. “I’ll be fine. I can tend to it myself.”

“First aid in the bathroom?” He asked, seeming to ignore your clear hint that you wanted to be alone.

Understanding that he probably wouldn’t drop this until he saw gauze around your knuckles, you headed to the hall bathroom with a huff, opened up the cabinet, and took out the first aid kit. You then took a seat at the edge of the tub and began patching yourself up. Every now and then you looked up towards the doorway, making sure that the skull man was watching you take care of yourself. Without his help. Without anyone’s help.

Finally, your hands were wrapped and the bleeding had stopped. You held up your hands towards him. “Happy now? Will you leave me alone now?”

“Hex.” Ghost simply said as a warning. God, you were infuriating. An attitude problem was something he would normally be able to snuff out immediately. He did it all the time when training new soldiers. Not you though. New soldiers were like little candles, easily blown out of their fire with just a breath. You? You were like a raging forest fire. One that clearly had its own traumas over years of service that the world may never know.

You didn’t like how he studied you. How his eyes trained on you were a mix between hatred, curiosity, and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A magnetic pull that begged for you to look at him too. You also didn’t like how he was trying to treat you like one of his rookie soldiers. The only thing you wanted to do to make it all stop was to push him away. “Don’t talk to me like some new recruit straight out of school. I’ve already earned my place in the world with the amount of scars I have. So, don’t treat me like I’m under you. I won’t even let your captain talk to me like that.”

After putting the first aid back where it belonged, you attempted to leave the bathroom and retreat back to your bedroom. Yet, Ghost wasn’t giving up just yet. His hold body blocked the bathroom exit. He was tall, strong, and sturdy. It wasn’t hard for him to completely fill up the space. However, that didn’t intimidate you. You got up close, and looked straight into those icy blues. Even with the black warpaint, you could tell that his lashes were meant to be blonde. Some of the paint had flecked off revealing some true color. You wondered what the rest of his face looked like for a second. Just a second.

You stood your ground, engaging in a heated staring contest. It was like lightning crackling between the two of you. After a while though, Simon finally gave in and held his hand up like a handshake. “Lieutenant. They call me Ghost.”

Hesitantly, you took his hand and firmly shook it, refusing to back down from a battle of wills. “Hex. That’s all you will know me by.”

Suddenly, he pulled you in closer, your chest almost touching his. On instinct, you pulled a knife from the waistband of your underwear. It was the one you took with you earlier for the showdown at the door. You held it to his neck, blade dipping in until you could feel the push back of skin. Ghost didn’t flinch or jump back at your defense. Instead, he whispered into your ear that he wanted to get close to in the first place. “As hard as you may try to fight it, you’re going to know me. And I’m going to know you.”

You bit back the shiver that went down your spine from the whisper, aching to slice his throat in retaliation. Chalice had you pinned, though. You had to avoid killing the people you are going to be working with at the very least.

Ghost slowly backed up and headed back towards the kitchen for some food, leaving you to process what just happened. You silently walked back to your room without looking back at him, ears turning red and heart racing unnaturally. You didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by giving him any more attention. However, Simon was already somewhat satisfied.

Yet, there was a part of him that wanted more.

Soap was eating a piece of lasagna when he walked in. Gaz and Price were quietly conversing at the other end of the island. It took a lot of food to fill up men like them. It wouldn’t take long for them to eat you out of your house and home unfortunately.

“So, how did it go?” Soap nosely inquired. As Simon surveyed the food before picking out a tupperware full of stew, he shrugged casually.

“She almost sliced my head off.”

Soap suppressed a chuckle and did his best impersonation of Laswell. “Sounds like it went smoothly then.”

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asteiioss · 1 year

Text

Soft curls

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Warnings/Content: fluff, no smut, bathing together, mentions of sex (indirectly)

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I'm usually inspired to write by songs. And this one was just inspired by "Sweet." Aside from that, I always imagined what it would look like if Spencer came home after a long case, so exhausted after it only to be left at the mercy and help of his lover. So enjoy reading the fantasies I come up with in broad daylight. :)

Spencer came home late that day. Not the usual late, but the late late version where most of the normal people were already getting ready for bed or maybe even asleep aready. The sensor lights turned on as he reached his last flight of stairs, where he was just a few steps away from his home. Taking out his keys, he struggled to git the apartment key in the door, so it made a clacking sound as he missed a few times.

When he finally placed the key in the door, he unlocked it and breathed out heavily, from tiredness and relief that he was finally home after days of handling a very hard case. He was welcomed by the sight of his girlfriend curled up in a blanket on the couch, one of the small pillows supporting her back while she held a book in her hands. She had her hair tied up in a messy bun she probably just picked up with one hand movement. There wasn't much light in the room aside from the small streaks of light that the corner lamp was casting. And that was perfect because the exhausted Dr. Spencer Reid wasn't ready to deal with flashing lights right now.

His girlfriend looked up from her book to see him still standing on the doorway, taking in the sight of her, and she softly smiled at her dear lover. "Hello, handsome. You finally found the way home, huh?"

Spencer didn't say anything. He just smiled and closed the door behind him. Throwing his bag over his head, he just left it on the floor next to the entrance and, with tired steps, came up to his girlfriend. She placed a bookmark in between the pages she was lastly reading and closed her book to leave it aside. Opening the blanket as a come here sign for him, he climbed on top of her, his legs and arms at her sides, before he placed his head on her chest. She threw the blanket over the small of his back before her hands dragged slowly across his entire back with her fingertips, gently scratching him.

"I missed you." He mumbled against her chest, groaning at her hand movement over his shirt. The tension of his muscles slowly evaporated with every new touch.

"I missed you too, honey." She said as she changed the pace of her scratches, moving her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Spencer didn't waste time before he wrapped his arms around her back to pull her a little closer to him, even though she couldn't physically be closer to him. But it didn't matter. He felt like on cloud nine.

"Can I sleep on you tonight?" He mumbled again, his voice muffled into the fabric of her pajamas, his face buried in her. As he heavily breathed, he didn't hesitate to take in her scent.

She chuckled at his request, making his head jump from the hich of her giggle. He smiled at his forced movement. "Honey, you'll be lucky if I make it half an hour like this. You're heavy." She shifted under him, trying to make herself more comfortable under the pressures of his entire bodyweight. "And, besides, you should go take a shower. Your shirt is sticking to your back, and it will make you feel better." She said as she continued scratching his back up and down, going over his shoulders every couple of times.

"I can't. I'll just be sticky and stinky until tomorrow." He, again, muffled against her chest, not being bothered to raise his head so he could speak more clearly.

She giggled, again making his head jump slightly at the raising and falling of her chest. He smiled at the quiet sounds of her laughter. "Not on my watch, Dr. Reid." She changed the routine of her scratches, moving up his neck and letting her fingers intertwine with his curls. "Your hair could use a wash too." She continued as she played with his hair.

"I really can't. Please don't make me." He protested.

"How about this -" she started, taking a small strand of his hair and putting it behind his ear. "I'll go and prepare a bath for you. That way, you can get cleaned and enjoy a nice, warm, relaxing soak. How does that sound?" She whispered, lowering her head to his so he could heat her better.

Now, this suggestion was worth lifting his head for Spencer. He quickly looked up, his eyes sleepy. Looking at her with one eye open, he smiled. "That sounds good." He nodded. "But under one condition."

She tilted her head, interested in what he was thinking about. "Please, do tell, good sir." She said in a british accent, which made him chuckle.

"You join me."

She pressed her lips together, them slowly moving into a smirk on her face as his words sunk into her. Spencer was a good boy. There was no doubt about that. The nerdy profiler couldn't possibly be anything else. Right? Behind four walls with his lover, he was a new person. Not many people knew. "Fine." She answered shortly and moved forward to reach his lips with hers. Kissing them softly, she could feel the exhaustion in him. "But no funny business, okay? I'm not up for any of that."

"Pinky promise." He raised his pinky finger and let her wrap hers around it.

It didn't take long for her to prepare everything. Warm water filled with bubbles, the bathroom smelled on lavender from the scented candles she lit instead of turning on the light. She prepared a bodywash and shampoo her boyfriend could reach out to easily, and placed a new pair of towels and a bathrobe for the two on the small desk next yo the tub.

After they both took off their clothes, she was the first one to get in. Slowly sinking in her body inch by inch, she sat at the end of the tub, making enough space for him to join her. He sat in front of her, his back facing her, letting himself sink into her embrace.

"You really are tired, huh?" She let her hands fall over his shoulders onto his chest. He mumbled a confirmation as he couldn't hold back his head anymore and just let it fall back onto her.

"Could you wash my hair?" He turned slightly to look into her eyes, making a puppy face.

She smiled as she brushed his cheek with her finger. She lowered herself onto his lips, kissing him. The kiss was tired and sloppy. Lazy from both sides yet full of love. "Okay." She said when she broke the kiss.

Reaching out for the shampoo, she poured it into her hand and brushed her hands together to spread the shampoo easily over his hair. She used her fingers as a brush to go through the damp strands of his curls. Meanwhile, Spencer would let out a groan here and there when he couldn't control the enjoyment of the sensation.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He shifted in the tub to turn around and sit face to face with her. His hair was covered in shampoo that dripped on the sides of his face. She placed her hands on both sides of his neck, her palms drawn up to slowly make circles on his jaw and, in no regular pattern, went over his cheek.

"Is that because I just bathed you, or maybe you need another favor?" She smirked as she looked at his tired face. Pulling him closer, she only touched the tip of her lips with his, not really kissing him all the way. He breathed out, his breath hitting her skin as he was eager to feel her.

"I just love you." His lips caressed hers, and she could feel his desire to just kiss her.

"I love you too." She said and finally kissed him. Again, the lazy and sloppy his was slow and loving. He moved his hands to her hips that were in the soapy water. Pulling her in, she had no choice but to obligate. With the small space they were in, she was forced to sit on his lap so she could be as close as she was to him. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she deepened the kiss, and it instantly became passionate.

Spencer smiled against her lips while holding her lower back so she didn't slip off his lap. "I thought you said no funny business."

Backing away, she looked him with a small smirk on her face. "I did. And I'm sticking to my words. I just wanted to kiss you. I spent over a week without those kisses, and I missed them."

He hummed in satisfaction, but knowing he felt the same way. He began being hungry for her after such a long time they spent apart. But it was routine. His job included that non-warning traveling pretty often. But she was understanding and never really complained to him about his absence, mostly because it was out of his control, and he would always make sure to make up to her.

"Let me whrince this soap off of your head." She reached over to the shower head, and as she turned back to him, he was spreading the shampoo over his short beard. "Is that you, Santa?" She said in a high-pitched voice.

"Ho ho ho." Spencer used his most deep goice he could find and tilted his head from side to with each sound he made. She started laughing, and he followed, going over to kiss her neck, leaving soapy patches on her skin. She turned on the water and sprayed him, forcing him to back up.

"Bad Santa, you didn't get me the bike I wanted as a kid." She continued spraying him with water as he tried to block it with his hand.

"I wonder why." He said after she stopped attacking him. She gasped and chuckled at his words.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #spencer x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fem!oc #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #Spotify

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03jyh23 · 4 months

Text

— 2 soon || kim hongjoong part 1

goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

(listen here)

idol!hongjoong x non-idol!reader

synopsis: years after choosing his career over you, hongjoong still finds himself haunted by the memories of you. your relationship is a constant dance of on and off, and you cannot stay away from him.

genre: lovers to strangers to ?, angst, smut

trigger warnings: cussing/mature language, break-ups, toxic relationships, possessiveness, toxic jealousy, sex as a coping mechanism, excessive alcohol usage, emotional manipulation, obsession, verbal aggression, emotional distress, mentions of clubbing, career-related stress, explicit sexual content: making out, protected sex (condom), mentions of using birth control, pet names baby, princess, handjob, blowjob, hair pulling, neck kisses, dirty talk, nipple play (?), missionary

words: 12.8 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! after several intense days of work, it's finally here! the first part of the goes to waste series! while writing 2 soon, i had many negative thoughts and was very self-critical. im still not sure if i did a good job - especially when it comes to smut. smut is the genre where i probably will never feel good enough, but believe me, im really trying. the second part is already in the process of being written. im handing this over to you; thank you very much for such a warm reception of this series, and i hope you'll enjoy it. and please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings for the sexual content!

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

taglist: @skittyneos @kyeos4ng @vcutparis

one

There you were, unexpectedly positioned in a scenario you never once imagined you would find yourself in. It was the middle of the night, the hour when all was quiet and still. Your ordinarily vibrant living room was dimmed, with only a single floor lamp in the corner casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. You were nestled into the corner of the worn-out comfortable sofa, hugging a pillow close as if it were your only lifeline. The only sounds filling the silence were the words from your boyfriend, each one hanging heavy in the cold air. You were painfully aware of what was coming, a gut-wrenching feeling of imminent heartbreak washing over you. The reality of the situation was that there was no escaping this conversation, no possibility of emerging unscathed. The knowledge that Hongjoong was about to shatter your heart into pieces was a bitter pill to swallow. This moment was the beginning of an end you had never anticipated. And it was happening tonight.

"The company believes that you will become a distraction," Hongjoong said, his voice laced with an undercurrent of tension.

"I don't give a damn about your stupid company," you retorted, your hand trembling and your eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. "I wasn't a distraction all these years when you were a trainee, so why am I suddenly one now?" Hongjoong paced nervously across the room, his movements betraying his inner turmoil. He was torn between the company and you, and he didn't know how to navigate this minefield.

"Y/N..." he sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Now that Ateez is gaining more attention after our first prize win and the new album coming soon, the company..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. "They believe I need to remain more focused."

"I don't fucking care about what they think, Hongjoong!" you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of your emotions. "You think I give a damn about their opinion?" you continued, your voice rising with each word. "They don't know us, they don't know what we've been through. All they see is some stupid company policy, but they don't see the love that we share." Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the pain of the situation threatening to consume you whole. You had never felt so helpless, so powerless.

"Please, try to calm down. You're not making this any easier," Hongjoong pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

''I don’t fucking believe that after almost three years they decided I will become a problem...'' Your voice cracked, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Hongjoong looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. It was clear that this conversation was tearing him apart just as much as it was you. "Hongjoong, do you believe what they're saying?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "Do you think they're right?"

He paused, his back still turned towards you. "I... I don't know, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely audible. "What if they are right?" The question hung in the air, a haunting doubt that only added to the heartache. Your heart pounded in your chest, the words echoing in your mind.

"You already believed them…'' you asserted, your voice tinged with a hint of defiance. ''I can't believe that you see me as a distraction now." With a frustrated cry, you grabbed the pillow and hurled it across the room, the action serving as a physical release for the pent-up anger and despair that threatened to consume you. "Fuck it, Hongjoong," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I need you to choose me. I need you to fight for us, for our love. Because if you don't, then what's the point of any of this?"

There was a long silence before he finally spoke. "I...I need to do what's best for my career," he answered softly, sounding utterly defeated. "And if that means that we..." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish the sentence. You felt a lump in your throat and fought back the tears.

''So, you’re going to leave me?'' Hongjoong turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Hongjoong's eyes flickered with pain as he met your gaze, his own turmoil reflected in the depths of his gaze. "I can't lose my career, Y/N! It's everything I've worked for.'' His words cut through you like a knife, searing through your heart. You had always known that his career was important to him, but you had never imagined that he would be willing to sacrifice your relationship for it. ''I’m sorry, Y/N,'' he managed to say, his voice filled with regret. ''I have to do this.''

"Just say it already..." Your voice was shaky, the tension in the room was palpable, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"I want to break up," Hongjoong finally said, his voice barely audible but clear enough for you to hear.

Your voice broke as you responded, "If this is your decision, then I'm not going to fight it. I won't beg you to stay, Hongjoong." The room was filled with a painful silence after your words. The reality of what was happening hit you both, but you stood your ground. "No, I won't beg," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "If this is what you've chosen, then I have no right to stop you. But remember this, Hongjoong, love is not a distraction. It's what keeps us human." He looked at you, his eyes welling up with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, the regret in his voice tangible.

"I need you to leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The room fell silent again. With a heavy sigh, Hongjoong cast a long, lingering glance in your direction, his eyes filled with a sadness he had never felt before. You couldn't meet his gaze, your own eyes fixated on the worn-out fabric of the couch, your hands clenched tightly in your lap.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he repeated, his voice just as quiet as yours. He hovered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else, offering him a way out of this situation. But there was nothing more to be said. The decision had been made.

"I'm sorry too, Hongjoong," you whispered into the silence, your voice trembling. The words echoed in the quiet room, a bitter acknowledgment of the pain that both of you were feeling. Slowly, Hongjoong headed towards the door, his steps heavy and uncertain. Each footstep felt like a punch to your heart, amplifying the emptiness that was beginning to set in. As the front door opened, a shiver went down your spine. With one last look, Hongjoong closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment. The silence was deafening, the absence of his presence felt like a void. You sat there, motionless, the harsh reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Eventually, you rose from the couch, your legs feeling like jelly. You switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. You could still feel the remnants of Hongjoong's presence, the memories of your time together felt almost tangible. But, he was gone. And you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone. Your small apartment never felt lonelier.

two

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting shadows everywhere. Hongjoong sat on the hotel floor, his heart ached like a heavy stone in his chest, echoing the raw, jagged pain of an all-too-fresh wound. Next to him sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey, its strong liquor failing to dull the hollow gnawing pain that gripped him. For the past few months, Hongjoong had been busier than he'd ever been. Recording sessions that kept him up all night, followed by grueling dance practices to perfect choreography. Once ATEEZ’s first studio album was finally out, there was an endless string of fan sign events and meetings. Then, his dreams came true — they announced a world tour. Hongjoong was so busy that eating and sleeping felt like a luxury. He was happy, but not completely. Something was always missing. You were missing. Hongjoong'd become a master at hiding his pain from the world. So good, in fact, that he'd even managed to hide it from himself. But even as busy as Hongjoong was with his career, there were moments when he couldn't help but constantly think about you. And in those small moments every song that he wrote, every dance he choreographed, every performance he gave, you were always on his mind. Hongjoong was haunted by your memories, by the love he had lost. And even if he was being so good at hiding his emotions, his bandmates could see the change in him. They saw the sadness in his eyes, the heaviness in his steps, the emptiness in his laughter. But they said nothing, respecting his silence, knowing that this was a battle he had to fight on his own. Now, it’s been over six months since he broke up with you. Since he had chosen his career over your love, ambition over affection. He believed it was the right decision, but it did not lessen the pain of his heartbreak.

Hongjoong's eyes fell on his phone, lying innocently on the carpet. He had been contemplating it for hours, his heart pounding with apprehension. He longed to reach out to you, to hear your voice again and beg for forgiveness. Everything seemed so pointless without you. His dreams and ambitions felt hollow and meaningless. The fame, the success, the love from fans all over the world — none of it mattered. Because without you by his side, sharing in his joy and success, it all felt empty. All he could think of was the sweet sound of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, the comfort of your presence. And the longer he was without you, the more he realized how much he had lost. Taking a shaky breath, Hongjoong gathered the courage to pick the phone up, dialed your number with unsteady fingers, and pressed the call button. Eight rings echoed in his ears, each one a chance to hang up, to retreat, to save himself from the impending heartache. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"Hello?"

"H-hey," His voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, "How... how you been? How you doing?" His heart pounded against his ribs. The room felt smaller with every passing second as if the walls were closing in on him. Hongjoong gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white as if holding onto it was the only thing keeping him grounded at that moment.

"I've been... okay," your voice was guarded, a stark contrast to the warmth it used to hold when you spoke to him. "Just... keeping busy, you know." Your heart was pounding loudly, so loud you were scared Hongjoong was going to hear it on the other side of the phone. You tried to steady your breathing, focusing on each exhale and inhale. There was silence on the other end. You could almost picture Hongjoong there, sitting in the dimly lit room, phone in hand, as he grappled with your words. The silence stretched on and for a moment.

"I've... I've been drinking," he confessed, a bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Thought I'd be over you by now... but I'm not. I can't be." His voice cracked, raw emotion spilling out. There was a pause again, a silence that seemed to last forever.

"Hongjoong..." you murmured, your voice filled with a detached understanding that was almost more painful than the silence before. "You... You shouldn't be drinking, Hongjoong," you said softly, concern seeping into your voice despite your best efforts to keep it neutral.

"I miss you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I... I know I caused you pain. I know I can't turn back time. But I... I can't imagine a life without you." The line went silent once again, except for his ragged breath and the deafening beat of his heart. Hongjoong held his breath, waiting, knowing that your next words could either set him free or push him further into his torment. Despite the distance, despite the coldness in your voice, he thought he detected a hint of lingering affection for him. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but it was there. A slight hesitation in your voice before you spoke, a soft sigh he barely caught. It gave him a glimmer of hope, but also a sea of despair. Because he knew that even though you might still harbor feelings for him, his choices had wounded you.

"I miss you too," you said, your voice so quiet that he almost missed the words. And in that moment, he knew that you felt the pain just as sharply as he did. Despite the remnants of love between you, you were both trapped in this cycle of regret and longing, both victims of his ambition. He longed to tell you that he loved you, that he was ready to give up everything to be with you. But the words wouldn't come. Because he knew he couldn't. He couldn't let go of his career, but he couldn't let go of you either. And so, he found himself stuck in this self-destructive cycle, driven by his own choices and his inability to let go of the past. The burden of his decisions hung heavy in the silence. His heart ached with unspoken words and the bitter sting of regret.

"I want to see you..." Hongjoong whispered into the phone, as he took another swig of the whiskey, the bitter liquid burning his throat, a fitting punishment for his mistakes. He closed his eyes, the image of your face clear in his mind, the memory of your laughter echoing in his ears. He missed you. He missed you more than he could put into words, more than he could bear. But all he had were his dreams and ambitions, the things he chose over you. ''I don’t know what I’m expecting'' All Hongjoong knew was that he missed you and that no amount of fame or success could fill the void you left in his heart.

"I... I want to see you too," you responded, soft and hesitant, yet filled with a longing that mirrored his own. Since the day Hongjoong left, your world had changed drastically, nothing felt the same. You tried to move on, to heal and rebuild your life without him. But it seemed like every time you made a little progress, something related to ATEEZ would unexpectedly appear, pulling you back into the memories of him. It was as if the universe was conspiring to ensure Hongjoong remained an inescapable part of your life, refusing to let you forget him.

"I don't know if this is a good idea...but, can we meet?" Hongjoong held his breath, waiting for your response, the silence between you two stretching out into a deafening void.

"Okay," you finally whispered back, the single word carrying a world of hope and fear, a promise of a reunion fraught with uncertainties and unspoken feelings. A wave of relief washed over Hongjoong, followed by a pang of anxiety. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, so many apologies to make, so many feelings to confess. But he feared that it might be too late, that the damage he had caused was irreparable. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult for him to speak.

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. "I'll be back home in a few weeks, I’ll see you then?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'll see you then," you replied softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. "Take care of yourself, Hongjoong.''

The call ended, leaving Hongjoong alone in the dimly lit room once again. He sat there, staring at his phone, his heart heavy with a mix of relief, fear, and longing. He didn't know if this was the beginning of a new chapter or the closure of an old one. All he knew was that he needed to see you. He needed to say the things he had been unable to say for the past six months. And most importantly, he needed to apologize.

three

The interminable weeks you anxiously awaited for Hongjoong's return seemed to mercilessly drag on, transforming into a seemingly endless expanse of time. In truth, the past few months without him felt like an eternity, every moment punctuated by his absence. After the initial shock of your breakup, which shook you to your core, you managed to shake off the immobilizing numbness that it brought. Once the initial shock was dealt with, you allowed yourself to fall into a routine, an everyday pattern of activities that became your lifeline in these challenging times. This routine, mundane as it might have been, was the only thing that kept you going, the only thing that kept you sane amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to consume you. It was your anchor in a sea of chaos, providing a sense of normalcy in a world that, without Hongjoong, felt anything but normal. So, when you saw the news that ATEEZ had returned from their tour, it took you by surprise. You thought Hongjoong would call you straight away, that he would want to see you as much as you wanted to see him. You were holding on to the thought of seeing the man you loved again, of finding closure, or perhaps a new beginning. But the call didn't come, and with each passing day, your hope dwindled a little more. The silence was deafening, filling you with a sense of dread and disappointment. But despite everything, you continued to wait, clinging on to the hope of hearing from him. Days turned into weeks, and the silence from Hongjoong was deafening. You tried to keep yourself busy, to distract your mind from the painful thoughts that threatened to consume you. You began to question his intentions, wondering whether he really meant what he said during the phone call. Did he truly miss you, or was it just a moment of weakness? Did he genuinely want to see you, or was he simply trying to ease his guilt? Your mind was a whirlpool of questions, doubts, and insecurities. You felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair. Despite the emotional turmoil, you couldn't bring yourself to reach out to him first. You weren't ready to face the possibility of rejection, the fear of him telling you that he had moved on and that the phone call was a mistake. So, you waited, hoping against hope that he would contact you.

One evening, while you were trying to drown your sorrows in a sad movie and a tub of ice cream, the doorbell rang, startling you out of your thoughts. Your heart pounded in your chest as you got up to answer it. As you swung the door open, there he was. Hongjoong stood on your doorstep, looking just as nervous and scared as you felt. You were taken aback, not having expected him to show up at your doorstep. You felt a mix of emotions - surprise, fear, anxiety, but also a strange relief. Despite the emotional turmoil swirling within you, you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of him. He was as handsome as always, his dark blue hair tousled slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and longing. For a moment, you found yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. It was surreal to see him standing there, on your doorstep, after so many weeks of silence and uncertainty. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that raged within you.

"H-Hey," he stuttered out, his eyes avoiding yours. "I hope I'm not... I hope this isn't too soon."

"No, it's... it's okay. Come in," you said, stepping aside to let him in. He hesitated for a moment, then walked inside. You closed the door behind him, it felt strangely normal to have him there, in your apartment, as if the last few months had been nothing but a bad dream. But the tension in the air was palpable, a reminder that things weren't the same anymore. You led him to the living room, he took a deep breath, his gaze wandering around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings.

"It's been a while," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, it has," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. The silence that followed was deafening, both of you lost in your own thoughts. Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence.

"I... I wanted to apologize," he began, his voice shaky. "I know I hurt you, and I'm... I'm really sorry." He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I made a mistake... a big one. And I... I want to make it right." You were silent for a moment, processing his words. It was what you had been waiting to hear, but now that he had said it, you didn't know how to respond. You looked at him, studying his face, searching for sincerity in his eyes. Despite the hurt and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited at his words. His apology felt genuine, raw with emotion. As you wrestled with your thoughts, a part of you longed to forgive him, to embrace the possibility of reconciliation. Yet another part remained guarded, wary of opening yourself up to further pain. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I've missed you so much," he confessed. Suddenly, Hongjoong reached out, pulling you into an embrace. The sudden movement startled both of you, but neither of you pulled away. On the contrary, you nestled deeper into his arms, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne instantly calmed your racing heart, making you feel like you were home again. In his arms, the pain and heartache of the past few months seemed to melt away. As you held each other in a tight embrace, the weight of the past few months began to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. Despite the pain and uncertainty that had plagued your relationship, being in his arms felt right, as if you were finally where you were meant to be.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The words were a confession, a raw admission of the emptiness that had consumed you in his absence. The warmth of his embrace melted away the walls you had built around your heart. Despite the doubts and uncertainties that lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the overwhelming rush of emotions that surged through you. Without thinking, you lifted your head from the crook of his neck, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. At that moment, all the words you had been longing to say seemed to vanish from your mind, replaced by a desperate need to express the depth of your feelings for him. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender, passionate kiss. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though time stood still, the world around you fading into oblivion as you lost yourself in the intoxicating warmth of his embrace. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming rush of love and longing that coursed through your veins. As you pulled away, breathless and trembling, you found yourself staring into his eyes, searching for some sign of understanding, of reciprocation. Hongjoong smiled and giggled quietly,

''I did not expect this…'' Your heart fluttered at the sound of his soft laughter, a gentle melody that filled the room. Despite the gravity of the situation, his laughter was like a balm to your wounded soul, easing some of the tension that had been building within you. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your flushed cheek, it was a comforting presence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you leaned into his touch, relishing the warmth of his palm against your skin.

"I know," you replied softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

''Can we do it again?'' A soft chuckle escaped your lips at his bashful demeanor, finding it endearing how he could still manage to blush after all this time.

"Of course," you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer to him. The warmth of Hongjoong’s breath against your skin sent a thrill coursing through you, reigniting the spark of desire that had never truly faded between you. Closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips to his once more, savoring his familiar taste and feel. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were picking up right where you had left off, lost in the intensity of your love for each other. As you pulled away breathlessly, the intensity of the moment lingering between you, Hongjoong placed his forehead against yours, his hand pulling you closer by your waist. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for far too long. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate and needy. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you rising. Hongjoong's voice was husky when he pulled back, his breath hot against your ear as he said,

"I'm not gonna stop myself if we keep on." You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a stark reminder of the intimacy you hadn't shared in so long. A shiver ran through your body as you processed his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had missed this closeness, the intoxicating intimacy that only Hongjoong could provide. Despite the uncertainties that still lingered, your body yearned for his. You met his gaze, your eyes reflecting the desire that was undoubtedly mirrored in his.

"Then don't stop," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. There was no hesitation in his actions then. His lips found yours again, his hands exploring your body, reigniting the flame that had never fully extinguished. Hongjoong's grip on your hips tightened, his touch electrifying, igniting a spark within you. He pulled your hair just the way you liked it, gentle yet firm, exposing your neck to his gaze. He began to leave a trail of wet kisses along your sensitive skin, his warm breath causing shivers to run down your spine. The anticipation was unbearable. You knew that after all this time, after all the longing and desire that had built up between you, you wouldn’t last long. Every fiber of your being was desperate to feel his body against yours, to experience the intimate connection that only he could provide. And as if he could read your thoughts, Hongjoong returned to kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. He was devouring you with an intensity that took your breath away, his every touch and kiss stoking the fire within you. You felt his hands tugging at the hem of your hoodie, his fingers deftly pulling it over your head in one swift, practiced motion. As the fabric lifted away, the cool air of the room hit your skin, causing a shiver to course through your body. To Hongjoong's surprise, you were not wearing a bra underneath. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over your exposed chest, taking in the sight of your bare skin. There was a moment of silence as he savored the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. Your head was spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations taking over, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second. Hongjoong placed his palm on your breast, cupping it gently but firmly. His touch was warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air surrounding you. His fingers, tender and explorative, began to play with your nipple, tracing delicate patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned softly. Each touch ignited a spark within you, a flame of desire that seemed to grow with every passing second.

As your hands began to wander, you found yourself drawn to his jeans. Your fingers deftly unclasped his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the room. Heart pounding with anticipation, you slid the zipper down, the sound seeming to reverberate through the room. Hongjoong quickly removed his own shirt, revealing his toned chest. Your hands instinctively reached out to him, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. In response, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. Hongjoong carried you towards the bedroom, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. As he gently put you down, your eyes locked with his, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again in a deep, passionate kiss while his hands roamed over your body, further stoking the flame of desire within you. You found yourself lost in his touch, each stroke of his fingers sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he slowly moved down, peppering soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, you could hardly contain the moan that escaped your lips. Hongjoong pulled your shorts down, kissing your stomach and hip bones. His touch was electrifying, setting your skin ablaze with a hunger that only he could satisfy. You reached for his pants, finally tugging both them and his boxers down and revealing his throbbing erection. Hongjoong groaned as you wrapped your fingers around his thick dick, you spread pre-cum on his length and stroked him gently yet firmly, eliciting a moan from him. Hongjoong was so hard, so ready for you, and the thought only made you wetter. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you knelt in front of him and placed a kiss on the tip of his throbbing length. Sensing his anticipation, you started licking him from the base all the way to the tip, savoring the taste of him. His body shivered in response to your actions, his breath hitching as he watched you with a mixture of desire and disbelief.

"I missed the way your cock tastes in my mouth,” you said just before you slowly took him all into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his length as you began to bob your head up and down. The sensation elicited a groan from Hongjoong, his hands instinctively reaching for your hair to guide your movements.

"F-fuck," Hongjoong moaned out, his grip on your hair tightening as you continued to pleasure him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length in a way that had him seeing stars. His body was tense, filled with an anticipation that was only heightened by the rhythm of your movements. The room was filled with the sound of his ragged breathing and the wet noises of your mouth on him. His hand tugged at your hair, guiding you, setting the pace. His other hand found its way to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep control. "I... I need to be inside you," he gasped, the words barely more than a whisper. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. There was a raw intensity in his gaze that sent a thrill coursing through you. You nodded, releasing him from your mouth with a final lick, a smirk playing on your lips as you watched him shudder at the sensation. You crawled back up his body, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the sensation eliciting a soft moan from him. Hongjoong's hands found their way to your hips, guiding you to the bed. He positioned himself on top of you, his hands gently spreading your legs. His fingers slowly explored your folds,

"You are so wet, so ready for me" he murmured in awe, his fingers brushing over your slick folds. The sensation caused you to gasp. With a sudden surge of impatience, you pulled him closer by his neck, kissing him aggressively.

"Hongjoong, I need you now," you demanded, your voice thick with desire. He positioned himself, ready to give you what you so desperately wanted. But then, he stopped, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

‘’Are you on the pill?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, not anymore," you admitted, biting your lower lip anxiously.

"Condoms?" he asked, hoping that you had some.

"I don't think I have any," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Shit, I think I have some in my wallet," he moved off you and rushed to search his wallet, which was carelessly thrown to the side earlier. After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief as he pulled out a condom. Returning to the bed, he positioned himself above you again, his dark eyes filled with desire. You took the condom from him, your hands slightly shaking as you carefully unrolled it down his throbbing length. You guided him to your entrance, the anticipation making you shudder with pleasure. As he slowly entered you, you couldn't help but gasp at the overwhelming sensation, the feeling of him inside you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As Hongjoong began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, your hands found purchase on his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. The rhythm of his movements, slow and deliberate at first, gradually picked up pace, each powerful thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and drawing moans of pleasure from your lips.

"Hongjoong whatever you do just don't stop now," you moaned, your toes curling in pleasure. His name fell from your lips again in a breathless whisper, the sound of it spurring him on. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, and your shared moans and gasps of pleasure.

"You feel so good, baby” he moaned. You felt his dick throbbing inside you, which made you clench around him, making him moan again. As your climax approached, your body tensed, your grip on him tightening. Hongjoong could sense it, and his thrusts became more powerful. "Are you going to cum for me, princess?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. Your body responded to his words before your mind could, a rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could do nothing but nod, your body taut with anticipation. Hongjoong’s movements became more deliberate, his rhythm matching your own as the tension built.

"Yes," you breathed out, the word barely escaping your lips before a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body convulsed, your grip on him tightening as you rode the waves of your orgasm. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as you rode out your orgasm, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. With a final, powerful thrust, Hongjoong groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own peak. Feeling him still buried deep inside you, you could sense the warm sensation of his cum filling the condom. Hongjoong’s head fell to the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin as he rode out the waves of his climax. The room fell silent, save for the sound of your labored breaths. He collapsed next to you, took the condom off, and threw it away. Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, and his fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, the sensation sending tingles down your spine. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that you hadn't seen for a long time. It warmed your heart, bringing a gentle smile to your face.

"I was going crazy without you," Hongjoong whispered his words a fervent declaration of the depth of his longing. "I missed you every single day," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as you gazed into his eyes, losing yourself in the depths of his gaze.

"You wouldn't let me forget about you," you smiled sadly, "ATEEZ were everywhere." You chuckled, the sound tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Every time I started to get a bit better, you would show up on a TV or the internet."

Hongjoong gave a bitter-sweet laugh, "I guess we're inescapable, huh?" His hand moved from your waist to cradle your face.

"I was so proud of you, Hongjoong," you confessed, your voice choked with emotion. "It just hurt that you needed to leave me to do all these amazing things."

His gaze softened at your words, his thumb gently brushing away the tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to," he admitted quietly, his voice hauntingly sincere.

"Will you stay for tonight?" you asked him, your voice quiet and hopeful. A silence hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and raw emotions. Hongjoong looked at you, his gaze soft and contemplative. It felt like an eternity before he finally responded.

"I wish I could," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "But I have to go back. There are things I need to take care of." A pang of disappointment shot through you at his words, but you understood. His world was unforgiving, with schedules and commitments that left little room for personal desires. You knew that asking him to stay was selfish, but some of you couldn't help but wish for a little more time together.

"I understand," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "But promise me this won't be the last time we see each other. Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll come back as soon as I can." You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the tears that threatened to fall. Hongjoong planted one last kiss on your lips, before gently untangling himself from your embrace. He rose from the bed, his eyes scanning the room for his scattered clothing. You pulled a comforter from the bed around your naked body as you got up from the bed, and you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Stay over," you tried convincing him again. "I don't want to be alone." Your lips found the back of his neck, peppering soft kisses there. Each kiss was a silent plea, a yearning for him to stay. He shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting on his skin. You knew he loved it when you kissed his neck like that. His eyes closed and a soft sigh escaped his lips, a clear sign that he was fighting the urge to stay with you. With one hand, you pulled him in closer, his back pressed against your chest. Your other hand traveled down his torso, exploring his body. You slid your hand lower, until you grabbed his cock, causing Hongjoong to let out a whimper at the sudden contact. The sound was music to your ears, a testament to the effect you had on him. This moment felt right, a perfect blend of desire and intimacy that only you two could share. As you started to pump him slowly, his cock hardened again. Kissing all over his neck, Hongjoong trembled under your touch. Your touch was gentle, yet firm, as you slowly worked him back to full erection. His reactions were immediate and intense, his body trembling under your hands. Hongjoong’s breath hitched in his throat, a soft gasp escaping his lips as you trailed kisses up and down his neck. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to set his nerves on fire, his body humming with pent-up desire.

"Feeling your dick get hard in my hand is so hot," you whispered into his ear. Hongjoong’s breath hitched at your words, he was completely at your mercy, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensations you were coaxing from him. His hands reached for you, his fingers digging into your arm as a silent plea for more. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the pleasure you were bringing him. The room was filled with the sound of your soft murmurs and his gasps, the air heavy with desire. You took your time, savoring each reaction, each tremor that ran through him.

"I'm going to make you come so hard," you breathed against his neck, your voice filled with a promise of the pleasure to come. A shiver ran through his body at your words, anticipation causing his breath to hitch in his throat. The kisses you trailed along his neck grew more passionate, more desperate, each one a promise of the pleasure to come. He was trembling beneath your touch, his body writhing with anticipation, ready for the climax that was sure to come.

"Need... need to feel your mouth on me. Please, please," he moaned as you sped up your movements on his length. You could feel his desperation in every word, the primal need making his voice tremble. You turned his body to face you, without missing a beat, you moved down his body, trailing kisses along the way. You took him in your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate at first, earning a guttural moan from him. His hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in the locks as he guided your movements. With every moan, every gasp for breath, you could feel him lose himself in the pleasure you were giving him. It only spurred you on further, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent. Hongjoong was a moaning mess, his body tensing as he felt the precipice of his release approaching.

"God... F-fuck," he stuttered, the words tumbling out amidst irregular breaths. He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and pleading. "Baby, I love you... Can I... Can I cum in your mouth?" your eyes met his, a soft nod of consent given as you continued your movements. The quiet room was filled with only the sounds of his heavy breaths and soft curses. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "I love you... I love you so much," he gasped out, his body trembling as he reached his climax. His cum filled your mouth, the taste of him intoxicating and familiar. You swallowed it all, a sense of pride swelling within you. As his release washed over him, you could see the love and adoration in his eyes. He was open, vulnerable, and completely yours at that moment. Post-orgasmic bliss took over him, his body going limp as he tried to regain his breath. You crawled up, placing soft kisses along his chest, his jaw, his lips. Hongjoong pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"I love you too, Hongjoong," you whispered, your head resting on his chest. His heart was still racing, the rhythm syncing with your own. You could feel his fingers tracing patterns on your back, a content sigh escaping his lips. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The look in his eyes said it all. He was in love, and so were you. Despite the challenges and the heartache, you belonged together. And in that moment, everything felt right. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy your embrace, his mind lost in the warmth of your touch.

"So, did that earn me your stay?" you asked playfully, a hint of mischief in your eyes as you looked up at him. Hongjoong kissed your forehead, before gently pulling away from your embrace, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he looked at you with regret-filled eyes.

"Baby I really wish I could stay, but I can't," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I have early rehearsals tomorrow. I promise I'll come back soon." He gently extricated himself from your grasp and began to get dressed.

"Don't go," you pleaded softly, your voice barely a whisper. But despite the plea in your eyes, he knew he couldn't stay. No matter how much he wanted to remain by your side, his responsibilities were calling him back.

"I don't want to leave you," Hongjoong murmured in a tone that was barely a whisper, his eyes filled with regret. "But I have to. I have responsibilities that I need to attend to." Despite the warmth of your bodies pressed together and the lingering taste of you on his lips, he knew he couldn't stay. He gave you one last look, his heart aching at the sight of your disheveled hair and the love in your eyes. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Once fully dressed, he turned back to you, his gaze soft. He walked over and pulled you into a gentle hug, his hand stroking your hair in a comforting gesture.

"I'll see you soon, I promise," he whispered into your ear before pulling away. Hongjoong gave you one last lingering look, his eyes filled with longing before he opened the door and stepped out of your apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

However, Hongjoong did not keep his promise.

four

Once again, days turned into weeks, and Hongjoong was nowhere to be found. You started to believe that your meeting was only a dream, a figment of your imagination borne out of desperation and longing. Each passing day without any word from him further reinforced this belief. The emptiness that you had once managed to keep at bay was slowly creeping back in, consuming you bit by bit. The silence was deafening, a harsh reminder of the reality you were trying to escape from. It felt as if you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair, each passing day a test of your resilience and strength. With each passing day, a seed of doubt began to grow within you. Was it possible that Hongjoong regretted what had happened? Could it be that the promises whispered in the heat of the moment, the tender kisses and reassuring words, were nothing more than a mistake? The thought gnawed at you, casting a dark shadow over the glimmer of hope you had been clinging on to. You found yourself questioning everything, your mind a whirlpool of confusion and despair. Your days were filled with uncertainty and your nights were haunted by dreams of him. You longed for the comfort of his presence, aching for the familiarity of his touch. Yet, all you were left with was the deafening silence, a cruel reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

Three weeks had passed since you last laid eyes on Hongjoong, and the absence was fucking with your head. Questions spun around in your head like a whirlwind, each one piercing deeper than the last. Was it only the sex that he missed? You were haunted by the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating way he used to look at you. The ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, a cruel reminder of the intimacy that once existed. The silence of your phone was deafening, the man who once couldn't go a day without hearing your voice, who used to fill your inbox with loving messages, had now been reduced to radio silence. Your mind was a battlefield, memories of him clashing violently with the present reality. This was not the Hongjoong you loved and cherished, the one who held you through the darkest nights and lit up your world with his smile. This was a stranger, a phantom wearing Hongjoong's face and carrying his memories, a cruel mockery of the man you once knew.

five

On a sunny afternoon, you came back from grocery shopping and approached your apartment complex. Upon reaching your floor, you found Hongjoong leaning against your door. The sight of him waiting there, a look of nervous anticipation on his face, sent a jolt of surprise through you. The sound of grocery bags dropping onto the floor startled Hongjoong, his head snapping up to see you standing there, a look of shock and anger on your face. He quickly jogged over to help you pick up the scattered items, but you recoiled, pulling the bags away from him.

"Why are you here, Hongjoong?" You spat out his name like it was poison. "I don't want to see you," you quickly got up as you finished picking up what was left from your shopping.

"We both know you don’t mean it…" Hongjoong blurts out, a look of guilt crossing his face.

"My manager found out I came to see you," Hongjoong admitted, avoiding your gaze. "The company... they're not happy. They made me sign a contract." His voice was barely a whisper, but the words hit you with the force of a freight train. "I'm... I'm banned from dating now." His words hung heavily in the air, the final blow to the fairytale you had tried so hard to keep alive. The revelation left you speechless, your heart aching at the harsh reality of his words. You felt a cold wave of disappointment wash over you, the realization of Hongjoong's predicament hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"Banned from dating?" you echoed, the words sounding foreign on your tongue. As the weight of Hongjoong's confession settled over you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. It wasn't just the fact that he was banned from dating that stung, but the realization that he had chosen to prioritize his career over your relationship once again. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "After what happened that night, you still chose them over me?" The hurt and anger bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment. You felt like a fool for ever believing that things could be different, for allowing yourself to hope for a future that was never meant to be.

Hongjoong reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "I didn't have a choice, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "You have to believe me. I didn't want this to happen." But his words fell on deaf ears.

"You always have a choice, Hongjoong," you retorted, your voice laced with bitterness. "You chose to sign that contract!" The tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. "You promised you would be back to see me, Hongjoong! You said you missed me and you wanted to make this right. And now this?" you exclaimed, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. The betrayal cut deep, his broken promises like salt in the wound.

"You can't just show up here after weeks of silence and expect me to be okay with this," you continued, your voice raw with emotion. "You've made your choice, Hongjoong. Now, I'm making mine. I can't do this anymore."

Your words hung heavily in the air, the finality of them echoing in the silence that enveloped the two of you. Hongjoong was left standing there, a stunned expression on his face as he processed your words. The man who was once your world, who held your heart in his hands, was now a stranger standing before you.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes were brimming with regret, the weight of his actions visibly weighing on him.

"But you did, Hongjoong," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill. "You hurt me... and the worst part is, you chose to. You chose them over me... again."

The silence that followed was deafening, the tension palpable. Hongjoong looked as if he wanted to say something, to defend himself or perhaps apologize, but no words came out. It was as if he finally realized the gravity of his actions, the damage that he had caused.

You turned your back on him, the sight of him too painful to bear. The man you loved was no more, replaced by a stranger who wore his face and held his memories. As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, heavy with regret and longing. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and there was no turning back.

You walked into your apartment, closing the door behind you. The finality of the sound echoing in the silent hallway. As you leaned against the door, your knees gave out, sending you sliding down to the floor. Sobs racked your body, the tears flowing freely now. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N, please," Hongjoong's voice filtered through the door, his tone desperate. "I love you, please let me in." But you couldn't bring yourself to open the door, to face him again. His words, once so comforting, now felt like a cruel mockery of what you once shared. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to ward off the chill that had seeped into your bones.

"I can't, Hongjoong," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The silence that ensued was deafening, only broken by the occasional sob that escaped your lips. You could hear Hongjoong's muffled pleas on the other side of the door,

"Baby, I need you to understand," he began, his voice steady despite the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "I love you. In this world, it's always been you. Without you, I feel so alone. I need you to really hear me when I say that I love you." he murmured, his voice filled with so much pain that it made your heart ache.

Your cry spasmed through your body, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Between gasps for air, you managed to sob out, "I love you too." Hongjoong’s voice fell silent on the other side of the door, and you clung to the silence, hoping, praying that he had left. But then you heard it, a low, heartbreaking sob from the other side.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Hongjoong's voice was barely more than a whisper, choked with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything." You clung to the cold, hard floor, your body wracked with sobs. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the silence echoing through the space, a stark reminder of your loneliness.

"Please let me in," he tried begging again, his voice echoing through the silence. But you couldn't. You were too hurt, too betrayed. You curled up tighter on the cold floor, your heart aching as his pleas continued to echo through the small apartment.

"I...I need to go," Hongjoong finally whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. You heard his footsteps recede and the faint sound of the hallway door closing. You were finally alone, the silence in the apartment a stark reminder of the void he had left behind. In the silence of your apartment, you allowed yourself to break down completely. Your sobs echoed through the empty space, your heartache manifesting in the tears that streamed down your face. You felt the loss of him deeply like a part of you had been ripped away.

six

You had lost track of how much time had passed since you last saw Hongjoong. The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks blurred into months. Morning turned into night, and night turned back into morning, but the ache in your heart remained constant. Hongjoong’s absence was like a gaping wound that refused to heal. You found yourself going through the motions of life, putting on a brave face during the day while falling apart in the solitude of the night. Every little thing reminded you of him - a certain song on the radio, the scent of his favorite cologne lingering in the air, the way the morning sunlight streamed through the window just the way he liked it. You knew it was wrong, that you needed to move on, but it was easier said than done. The memories of him were etched deep within your heart, a part of you that you couldn’t just erase. You missed his laughter, his touch, the way he used to look at you. You missed him, and it hurt more than you ever thought possible. Try as you might, you were coping really badly without him. His absence had left a void in your life that you didn't know how to fill. You felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness. You yearned for his presence, for the comfort and familiarity that he brought into your life. Despite the heartache and the pain, you were holding on. Holding on to the hope that, maybe, with time, the pain would lessen. Holding on to the memories that brought you joy in your darkest moments. Holding on to the love that, despite everything, still lingered within your heart.

You started to go clubbing, drinking more alcohol than you should, each shot you took was a desperate attempt to erase him from your mind, to numb the pain that was threatening to consume you. You tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, in the mindless chatter and laughter around you, but all you could think about was Hongjoong. Alcohol, which was supposed to help you forget, ironically made him even more present. His name was etched on every bottle, his memory swirled in every glass, his phantom touch felt in every drunken stupor. Each night was a replay of all the moments you shared, every word exchanged, every secret whispered, every promise made.

The club was packed, the music pounding in time with your heartbeat. The smell of alcohol and sweat filled the air, mingling with the intoxicating scent of perfume. Lost in the crowd, you tried to drown out the loneliness that gnawed at your insides. Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found yourself face to face with a stranger. He was handsome, with a warm smile and dark, inviting eyes. He offered to buy you a drink, his voice barely audible over the loud music. You nodded, accepting the drink he handed you. The alcohol burned your throat, but it was a welcome distraction from the emptiness you felt. As the night progressed, the stranger became more comfortable. He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours. His touch sent a jolt through your body, a feeling of excitement... and something else. Something that felt like a betrayal. The stranger leaned in for a kiss, his lips barely inches from yours. You wanted to respond, to surrender to the desire that was churning within you. But as his lips meet yours, a flash of Hongjoong's face appears in your mind. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. Suddenly, the stranger's touch felt wrong, his presence a stark reminder of what you were missing. With a gasp, you pulled away, pushing the stranger off you. You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. You turned and ran, pushing through the crowd, desperate to escape. The stranger called after you, but his voice was drowned out by the thumping music. Once outside, you leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the truth. Despite the desire to move on, to forget Hongjoong, your body seemed to have a mind of its own. You still craved his touch, his presence. It felt like your body was still his, refusing to let go, refusing to be with anyone else. It was a painful realization, a glaring reminder of the void that Hongjoong had left in your life. Staggering back to your apartment, you felt more alone than ever.

After what felt like forever, you reached your apartment complex. Stumbling through the doorway, you barely had the strength to close the door behind you. Your thoughts were a blur, the world spinning around you as the effects of the alcohol finally started to take a toll. You leaned against the wall for support, the cold surface offering a stark contrast to the warmth that was spreading through your body. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you slid down the wall, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion. You sat there, alone in the darkness, the silence of your apartment echoing the emptiness you felt inside. You pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over Hongjoong's name. Without any hesitation, feeling like you had already waited too long, you pressed the call button. The phone rang, but there was no answer. A pang of disappointment hit you, though it was an outcome you weren't entirely surprised by. You sighed, waiting for the beep before leaving a voicemail.

"Hongjoong, it's me," you began, your voice slightly shaky. "I was out clubbing, and there was this guy… We kissed and… and he wanted to take me home. But I couldn't... I couldn't because it felt like I would be cheating on you. And that just... it made me feel sick." There was a pause as you braced yourself, gathering your thoughts. "The worst thing is," you continued, your voice slightly choked, "that I would still welcome you with open arms. I miss our life together, Hongjoong. I miss you." There was another pause, a heavy silence filling the line. "I'm so sorry," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm so sorry for making you feel bad about choosing your career. I know how much you wanted what you have now. And I... I shouldn't have held you back." You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the words you knew you had to say. "And Hongjoong," you added, your voice filled with a quiet intensity, "I will never not love you." With that, you ended the call, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of your words.

In a haze, you managed to make your way to your bed, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of the mattress. The silence in the room felt overwhelming, and your mind filled with thoughts of Hongjoong. You missed him terribly, the uncertainty of his whereabouts gnawing at you. Pulling out your phone, you started to text him, your fingers clumsily typing out the words.

"Hongjoong... I miss you. I don't know where you are... and it's driving me crazy," you typed, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in your eyes. You hit send, the message disappears into the ether. Tears trickled down your cheeks, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt. You cried a deep, aching sob that echoed in the silence of the room, your body shaking with the intensity of your feelings. The room was dark, the only light coming from the screen of your phone, you picked it up and started typing another message.

"Hongjoong, I miss you."

"I need you, Hongjoong."

As you sent the message, a wave of regret washed over you. You knew you shouldn't have sent it, but the alcohol in your system and the loneliness in your heart had made you reckless.

"I still love you."

"I love you so much it hurts."

"I wish I wasn’t hurting this bad."

You dropped your phone on the bed, the screen illuminating the darkness as your messages were sent into the void, unanswered.

"I wish things were different."

The truth of your words hit you like a sledgehammer, and you broke down again, sobs shaking your body as you curled up on your bed. You cried until you fell asleep, your dreams filled with memories of Hongjoong.

seven

The crowd roared with applause as Hongjoong left the stage, his heart pounding in his chest. The energy from the audience was infectious, their cheers and screams echoing in his ears long after the music had stopped. The final show of the tour had been a resounding success, each seat filled, each ticket sold. As he walked off the stage, the reality of their success began to sink in. The bright lights, the screaming fans, the sold-out venues - it was more than he had ever dreamed of. Despite the fatigue that was beginning to set in, he couldn't help but bask in the afterglow of their performance. The excitement, the adrenaline, the sheer joy of performing - it was a feeling like no other. After all was said and done, he found himself walking through the corridors, personally thanking each member of the crew. Their faces lit up at his words of gratitude, their hard work acknowledged by their leader. The atmosphere was filled with camaraderie and mutual respect, a testament to the bond they shared. Once he had made his rounds, he finally reached his sanctuary - his dressing room. The room was dimly lit, the quiet hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. Rows of neatly hung suits, shirts, and accessories greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaos that had ensued earlier. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, the adrenaline that had been fueling him all day finally starting to wane. His body felt heavy, his mind cloudy from the day's events. He moved towards the plush leather couch sitting in the corner of the room, his legs giving way as he sank into the soft cushions. The quietness of the room enveloped him, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He let out a sigh of relief, his body sinking further into the couch as he allowed the exhaustion to take over. The day had been long and arduous, but he had made it through, and for that, he was grateful. Hongjoong reached out and picked up his phone from the bedside table. The bright screen lit up, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw your name at the top of his notifications. Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest as he played the voice message. Your voice, which he hadn’t heard in so long, laced with alcohol and desperation, echoed in his brain. His breath hitched at your confession, the image of another man touching you burning in his mind. It was a torment he hadn't prepared for, a reality he refused to accept. His grip on his phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as your words washed over him. Each syllable was like a dagger to his heart, the pain raw and unbearable. As the full weight of your words sunk in, he was left reeling, the reality of your pain and longing hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had never felt more helpless, more desperate. After hearing the voice message, he quickly clicked on the text notifications. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the messages:

my love: "Hongjoong... I misssss youuuu. Don't knoowww whereeee u r... it's drivin' me craaaazy."

my love: "Honjoong, I missss youuuu.”

my love: "I neeedd yoooo, Hongjoongg.”

my love: "I stiilll lovvee yooouu.”

my love: "I wishhh thinggs werre differrrent.”

my love: "I luvv yu sooo muchh it hurttss."

my love: "I wishh I wasn't hurtin' thiss badd."

In a heartbeat, Hongjoong got up from the sofa, the quick motion caused his head to spin. Shaking off the disorientation, he lunged for his bag, hastily gathering his belongings in a flurry of swift movements. All his thoughts were consumed by one singular goal - he needed to see you. Not bothering with changing out of his stage attire into something more casual, he embraced the urgency of the moment, allowing it to fuel his actions. He shrugged on his jacket, barely noticing the lingering sweat on his skin or the way his stage clothes clung to his body. Hongjoong’s heart pounded in his chest, as he sprinted out of the dressing room. His eyes darted around the bustling backstage area, scanning the familiar faces and chaotic scenery in search of one person. His manager. Every second was critical, each fleeting moment amplifying the urgency of his need to see you. The world around him seemed to blur into a whirlwind of colours and sounds as he navigated through the backstage chaos, his mind solely focused on his mission.

"Hongjoong, are you alright?" Minah, the stylist, asked as she approached him cautiously. She had been observing him from a distance, noting the far-off look in his eyes. It was unlike him to be this distracted, especially when they were on a tight schedule. Hongjoong didn't even notice her until she was right next to him, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. He blinked, turning to look at her with a slightly startled expression.

"Where is my manager?" he asked, his voice tense. It wasn't like him to be so curt, and Minah knew instantly that something was off. She glanced warily at him, biting her lower lip anxiously.

"He stepped out for a moment, he should be back soon," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She had been working with Hongjoong for a while now and she had never seen him this agitated before. Hongjoong nodded, his gaze wandering off again as he started scanning the room left and right. He looked like a man on edge, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Minah watched him with growing concern, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way to help. She had seen him tired, stressed, even overwhelmed at times, but she had never seen him like this. He looked like he was at his breaking point, like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. She knew better than to press him for answers, knowing that he would open up when he was ready. But as the minutes ticked by and his anxiety seemed to mount, she couldn't help but worry. Something was clearly wrong, and she felt helpless as she watched him struggle.

"Fuck it," he cursed under his breath, his thoughts racing as he rushed towards the back doors that led to the underground parking lot. Hongjoong made his way through, heading straight for the exit. At that moment, the possible consequences of his actions didn't matter to him. Just as he was about to pry open the alarmed doors, causing the alarm to ring out, he heard someone calling his name.

"Hongjoong, what do you think you're doing?" It was his manager, jogging over to him.

"I'm going back home," Hongjoong declared, his voice ringing with a determination that startled his manager. The manager, taken aback by the sudden change in his typically professional demeanor, quickly tried to regain control of the situation. He grabbed Hongjoong by the shoulder, attempting to steer him back towards the conference room where a team of publicists and stylists awaited their return.

"You aren't going anywhere, Hongjoong," his manager sternly replied, his grip tightening on Hongjoong's shoulder. "We're flying back in two days after the interviews. You know the schedule." Typically, Hongjoong was a stickler for professionalism. He understood the importance of maintaining a certain image, of fulfilling his responsibilities and keeping to the schedule. But this was not a typical situation. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, your voice in that message echoing in his ears. The sound of your soft sobs, the barely concealed panic in your voice - they haunted him. He needed to be with you, to hold you, to reassure you that everything was going to be okay.

With a firm shake of his shoulder, he freed himself from his manager's grasp, his movements abrupt and filled with a newfound, desperate energy.

"Seonghwa will take the leader role when I'm gone," he declared, his voice louder than it had been all night. "You will figure something out," he continued, his voice echoing with a resolve that hadn't been there before. Hongjoong gaze was intense, almost desperate, as he looked at his manager, it was a look they had never seen before, a look that spoke of desperation and determination that was both terrifying and heartbreaking. "Give me the keys to the car," Hongjoong demanded, his voice icily calm in contrast to the furious glint in his eyes. But his manager defied him, refusing to hand over the keys. Hongjoong was on a rampage, his usual composed demeanor replaced with a fiery rage that was starting to consume him. His vision blurred, the edges tinged with red as his frustration escalated."I NEED to go!" Hongjoong shouted, his voice filled with an urgency that cut through the tense silence.

"You're not thinking straight, Hongjoong," his manager retorted, his tone laced with frustration and concern. "You can't just abandon everything and run off. Think about the consequences!"

"I don't care about the consequences!" Hongjoong snapped, his patience wearing thin. "This is more important!"

"Oh, is it?" his manager sneered, a manipulative glint in his eyes. "Remember, Hongjoong, I can ruin you. I can leak your little secret to the press. Imagine the scandal, the headlines... ''ATEEZ's leader, Kim Hongjoong, abandons tour to chase after ex-girlfriend.'' How do you think the fans will react?" Hongjoong knew it was a threat, a blatant attempt to control him, but the reality of the situation was that his manager held the power to destroy his career.

Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest, his blood running cold at his manager's words. He gritted his teeth as he cut off his manager's words.

"How do you know it's about her?" he demanded, his voice harsh. A cold dread washed over him as he considered the implications. How was it even possible for his manager to know you had contacted him? After all these months of radio silence, how could he possibly know? His manager shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I have my ways," he said cryptically. "Besides, it's not like I don't know what she still means to you." The words stung, a harsh reminder of the heartache Hongjoong had been trying to bury. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you," his manager said smugly, dangling the car keys in front of him. With a sigh, Hongjoong snatched the keys from his hand, his determination unwavering. He would face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be, as long as it meant he could be there for you.

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong didn't care about professionalism or the implications of his actions. He didn't care about the shocked expressions of his manager and the other staff members. He didn't care about the potential backlash or the consequences he might face. This time, all he cared about was you.

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez x y/n #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you

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