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onlyswan · 6 months

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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 months

Text

V ║Raw Edge

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part IV: Notch | Behind the Seams: Part V | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, a proper E!

Summary: One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.

Warnings: Sexual tension, some language, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, flirting, fingering, explicit grinding, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2k

Notes: It's been a long and winding road y'all, but I'm finally back with an update on the main series. It is a short one, more of an interlude, but it will get us where we need to go for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, I don't take you guys' understanding and love for granted for even a second. Releasing this during the Seams sleepover, more drabbles coming your way for the remaining month of March!

Raw edge - the raw, raveling, and unfinished, cut edge of the fabric.

It’s fitting that Joel is a patient man. He’s built for it, after all.

Those broad shoulders, the sturdy thighs, his sure hands - he’s steadfast as the mountains that loom over Jackson.

As the sun shifts over the ridges and valleys of the sierra through the seasons, bringing shadows into light, so does Jackson on Joel, and you learn that he’s many kinds of patient.

On lookout duty, even in the depths of winter, he becomes one with the stillness of the night, patiently watching over the safety of the town in the loneliest hours.

When townsfolk stop him on the high street for neighbourly chit chat, he obliges with polite patience, never rushing, but careful not to encourage conversation that is longer than necessary.

With Ellie, when she prattles on with a long-winded story from school, he listens with amused patience, letting her run her half-full mouth over dinner with half-hearted admonishment.

And with you - he is agonisingly patient with you, and yet, never in a way that leaves any doubt of his want for you.

You cannot be more grateful.

And in turn, you’re patient with him. As the green of summer softens with the tail end of the season, you pick up bits and pieces. You hear whispers of names. Tess. Bill. You glimpse ghosts of his past. Sarah. Frank.

You don’t expect him to, but you have the audacity to hope, that one day, if he finds it in him to let you in, you have shoulders to spare.

When the heat fades and the brisk autumnal chill starts to linger in the morning mist, you start to find that you like it when he’s not patient.

Not necessarily for the lack of patience thereof, but the fact that it’s worn thin by something else.

The way heat bleeds into his eyes when Lucy holds you up after your shift ends, fingers twitching, as if the caveman in him wants to grab you and drag you home, where you have planned on dinner - and more.

When you’re two bodies tangled in your sheets, breath short as he kisses his way down your neck and nips the underside of your breasts, bra cups pushed up only halfway because you’re still too shy to take it off completely. You feel him shudder, nails digging into your skin, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back from ripping the scant fabric off of you.

And late one evening, when you ask him for it, in heated whispers and your lower lip caught in your teeth, he oh so patiently works his fingers inside your wet heat -

One, then two;

Slow, then fast;

Tender, then frantic -

Until he feels you clench tight around the crook of his fingers for the first time, watch you arch clean off the bed, he bares his teeth and lets out a primal growl at the cry of his name on your swollen lips.

You find the thrill in getting under Joel Miller’s skin.

As the fall deepens, and trees start to shed in golden surrender, you’re caught off guard when he turns the table on you.

You don’t see it coming, your desperation, that lazy afternoon. It’s just another Saturday when Ellie is on her shift at the Outfitter with Lucy, and Joel is spending those free hours with you.

You’re not sure what got him into the mood, but the man is relentlessly teasing that afternoon, almost bratty in the way he toys with you. His hands go everywhere while you’re cooking, squeezing the swell of your ass then going north to cup your breasts, and stopping off everywhere in between.

Tips of your ears burning, you smack the back of his hands - so big and mapped with veins - just so you can get drain the pasta. Joel chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. ‘I like it when you’re bossy, sweetheart.’

He insists on eating on the sofa, with you between his legs, and you can feel him already hard and straining through his jeans. Neither of you really make a real go at the rapidly cooling marinara, and the plates are quickly pushed to the side as them meal degenerates into a full-blown make out session.

Not yet ready to let him strip you bare or for him to disrobe him completely, clothes hang half unbuttoned and unzipped on you both. The part of your brain that still has enough blood to reason likes it though - the demure flashes of skin under creased fabric, blindly touching and feeling where you can’t see.

Your jeans are pushed halfway down your thighs, bra pushed down under your breasts, the elastic straps digging into your shoulders. His shirt is open down to the second last button, bare chest rubbing against your nipples, the contact making you whine. His belt hangs open and his jeans are unzipped, but before you can reach down, his fingers slide inside your panties, twisted and sticky, teasing your wet folds.

‘Joel,’ you whimper as he pushes two thick fingers inside you to the knuckle, your pussy slickly opening around him.

‘Does that feel good, sweetheart?’ he asks, mouthing at your collarbone.

‘More,’ you gasp.

‘I got two in you already -’

Your voice cracks in a sob, your nails digging into his back. ‘Joel, I want more. Please.’

He glances at the clock ticking away on the wall and hesitates. The rational part of him knows that he has to leave in less than twenty minutes to pick up Ellie. But feeling you leak onto his fingers, pushing your hips against him to get his fingers even deeper, his cock twitches painfully hard in his pants.

He breathes through his nose to steady himself. ‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time -‘

‘Joel!’ you whine, almost petulantly.

He stares down at you, eyes wide at your desperation. He’s never seen you like this before, and fuck, he wants to give it to you. Wants to give you what you want, what he wants. What he’s wanted for long fucking months, woken up hard and throbbing dreaming about. But he steels himself - no, not when he’s on the clock, he won’t rush it. He will give you what you deserve, and not an ounce less.

So he kisses you, long and deep, and bargains with you. ‘Listen, sweetheart, we can’t right now - but if you want to, we can try something new.’

‘Ok,’ you reply without hesitation.

A sharp breath catches in your throat when he eases his fingers out of you, and he brings them up to his mouth to lick them clean, his brow furrowing at your taste, thick on his tongue. Then you watch, transfixed, as he pushes his unzipped jeans down with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles - and his hard cock springs free of its confines.

It’s taken you many months to drum up the bravery to map his body with your touch, and you’ve mostly done so in the safety of darkness, your shyness holding you back. To see all of him, jutting hard and thick in the stark afternoon light, you don’t even hear yourself whimper at the sight.

Joel holds your gaze as he slowly wraps his fingers around the swollen length and strokes himself, lips parted, watching you watch him. ‘You trust me, sweetheart?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gonna make you feel good, ok?’

His words make you squirm beneath him. ‘Ok.’

Grabbing the base of his cock, Joel shifts, looming over you and pushing your thighs apart so they’re bent at the knees to accommodate him. Then with a delicate finger, he traces under the seat of your panties and pulls them to one side, baring your spread pussy to his eyes.

Your jaw goes slack the same time Joel bites out a filthy fuck. You know this is the first time he’s laying eyes on you there - you’ve been demure about that, preferring to be nose-to-nose with him while he buries his fingers inside you. But now, watching his eyes go black, nostrils flaring, an inexplicable high goes to your head, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

His eyes fly to yours, and your lips part. Did he see that?

Before you can find out, Joel moves, and you hold your breath when he bows his head right where your legs are splayed open. Distracted by the beautiful chisel of his nose from this angle, you would’ve jumped right off the couch if not for his hands holding you in place when he dribbles spit onto your clit.

You cry out wordlessly, not understanding the visceral reaction of your body to the unexpectedly lewd act.

‘You’re plenty wet for me sweetheart, but this will feel even better,’ he says, spitting again, lower this time, and you tremble at the unfamiliar sensation of the wetness trailing down your folds.

Tracing a thumb over you, Joel makes a low noise of satisfaction in his chest when it glides over your lips, frictionless. Taking a hold of the base of his cock, he positions the underside of his length in the seam of your folds - and thrusts.

‘Joel!’ you whimper as the full length of him glides over the lips of your spit-wet pussy, from entrance to clit. He braces himself over you, and you hang onto his impossibly broad shoulders as he carefully rolls his hips, again and again. Rubbing along you just so, making sure you feel all of him despite not being inside you - that will have to wait.

You can feel your panties getting wetter, sticking to your skin, and Joel jolts a gasp from you when he roughly tugs the fabric hard to the side, baring more of you to his drunken gaze, witnessing the mess he’s making of you.

‘Listen t’ you,’ he slurs through gritted teeth, the lewd, wet slide of skin filling his ears. ‘Gonna sound even sweeter when I make you mine, sweetheart.’

With a whine, you arch off the couch, as if chasing the possessiveness in his words. Joel finds a rhythm that has the swollen head of his cock grinding against your clit with every thrust, and above you, he smears open-mouthed kisses over the secret spots he’s patiently unearthed by trial and error, until you’re shaking all over. It’s just what you needed, what you wanted - the elusive more that you didn’t know how to articulate. More than his fingers, but not yet ready to take everything that he can give you.

‘You’re close,’ Joel says, a quiet confidence to his verdict that coaxes a whine out of you. Holding a thumb over his cock, it presses even harder against your clit. His hips quicken in pace, and you know he’s chasing his own release as much as yours.

‘It’s ok sweetheart, you can let go, let me feel you cum for me, let me feel that pretty pussy -’

And then you’re gone. Any illusion of control over your body is just that, an illusion, when the bubble bursts. White hot pleasure burns through your bloodstream, tendrils of heat blooming and swelling from deep inside you, spilling out your fingertips twisted tightly into his graying curls.

Over the rush of blood in your ears, you hear Joel stutter fuck, fuck, fuck! before warm cum gushes over you, pooling in your belly button, spilling down your pussy and streaking your thighs.

Limbs heavy and eyelids drooping, it’s hard to care when the cum stains your panties or the couch below. Not when Joel wraps his arms around you, lips brushing the nape of your neck softly as he brackets you from behind.

Clinging onto the last vestiges of consciousness, you murmur, ‘You have to pick up Ellie soon.’

He grunts. ‘The little punk can wait.’

You smile, struggling to feel apologetic that the teenager might be waiting a while as Joel’s breathing slows, whistling softly by your ear.

In the quiet aftermath, his words echo in your head.

When I make you mine.

Little does he know, he doesn’t have to - you’re already his.

Notes: Time has really flown by since the last main series update. I've gone through so many ups and downs since, and I really need to thank you guys for giving me the time to figure things out in terms of my writing and how this story will go!

As I mentioned in Behind the Seams: Part V, I have 2 more full length chapters planned for the main series. I don't know if there will be any more after that, but at the very least, I hope that I will be adding to the Seams universe through drabbles and oneshots. I wouldn't write off the possibility of more chapters to add to the main series if I find the inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #seams v #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine

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blxeblur · 1 year

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TAG DUMP?? TAG DUMP.

#KNIGHT OF THE WIND //— IC.#BEHIND THE SCREEN //— OOC.#WOAH HE'S BISEXUAL //— CRACK.#STORIES OF A LEGEND //— HEADCANONS.#EAVESDROPPING //— DASH COMM.#WRITING A HERO //— DRABBLES.#PORTRAIT OF A HERO. //— ART.#STARTING AN ADVENTURE //— RP MEMES.

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liliaxhymn · 2 years

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TAG DUMP I: BASIC

—ic ✾*·˚·˚. {ethereal lilies} —ooc ✾*·˚·˚. {so speaks the rose} —roleplay ✾*·˚·˚. {a tale ongoing} —ask ✾*·˚·˚. {sent across time and space} —meme ✾*·˚·˚. {brief moment of joy} —crack ✾*·˚·˚. {all logic thrown to the wind!} —headcanon ✾*·˚·˚. {the inner self} —drabble ✾*·˚·˚. {recollections of bygone days} —gallery ✾*·˚·˚. {lost dreams of flowers} —music ✾*·˚·˚. {the melodies of the past} —mun’s art ✾*·˚·˚. {constructed by roses} —commentary ✾*·˚·˚. {observations conveyed} —musing ✾*·˚·˚. {deeper within} —aesthetic ✾*·˚·˚. {beauty of infinite nothingness} —promo ✾*·˚·˚. {another lovely world} —self-promo ✾*·˚·˚. {a meadow of lilies} —psa ✾*·˚·˚. {a truth for all to hear} —starter call ✾*·˚·˚. {a timeline begins} —inbox call ✾*·˚·˚. {a new part of this story} —open starter ✾*·˚·˚. {an unexpected encounter} —signal boost ✾*·˚·˚. {spread across worlds} —wishlist ✾*·˚·˚. {desires yet to be fulfilled} —saved ✾*·˚·˚. {to recall in future times} —misc ✾*·˚·˚. {simply irrelevant yet beautiful} —queue ✾*·˚·˚. {fate pre-decided}

#—ic ✾*·˚·˚. {ethereal lilies}#—ooc ✾*·˚·˚. {so speaks the rose}#—roleplay ✾*·˚·˚. {a tale ongoing}#—ask ✾*·˚·˚. {sent across time and space}#—meme ✾*·˚·˚. {brief moment of joy}#—crack ✾*·˚·˚. {all logic thrown to the wind!}#—headcanon ✾*·˚·˚. {the inner self}#—drabble ✾*·˚·˚. {recollections of bygone days}#—gallery ✾*·˚·˚. {lost dreams of flowers}#—mun’s art ✾*·˚·˚. {constructed by roses}#—commentary ✾*·˚·˚. {observations conveyed}#—musing ✾*·˚·˚. {deeper within}#—aesthetic ✾*·˚·˚. {beauty of infinite nothingness}#—promo ✾*·˚·˚. {another lovely world}#—self-promo ✾*·˚·˚. {a meadow of lilies}#—psa ✾*·˚·˚. {a truth for all to hear}#—starter call ✾*·˚·˚. {a timeline begins}#—inbox call ✾*·˚·˚. {a new part of this story}#—open starter ✾*·˚·˚. {an unexpected encounter}#—signal boost ✾*·˚·˚. {spread across worlds}#—wishlist ✾*·˚·˚. {desires yet to be fulfilled}#—saved ✾*·˚·˚. {to recall in future times}#—misc ✾*·˚·˚. {simply irrelevant yet beautiful}#—queue ✾*·˚·˚. {fate pre-decided}#—music ✾*·˚·˚. {the melodies of the past}#do not reblog

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freyito · 7 months

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ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ

this is another little drabble thing for all the men in mk1, since i thought it was another super cute idea and i have so many requests for the lin kuei trio! but barley any for any other characters!!! i think they all deserve the same love :D these are pretty much little snippets of like how they sleep, what they do before they go to bed with you, little late night excursions, and who wakes up first/how they wake up, stuff like that :) this one took a looooot out of me goddamn, but i love it and i hope u all enjoy it too!!!!

cw: gn reader, literally just fluff, shang tsung is a diiiiiiva, proofread

-Liu Kang

Nights with Liu Kang are ethereal. When you're up to it, he's gonna take you to the most secluded place he can think of, where you can almost see the entire universe shining within the sky. He'll recount stories from the past to you, point out constellations,- even in the overcrowded sky- and even make up some, just for fun. Just because he's a god doesn't mean he won't make time for you. He actively seeks you out during the night, really.

Liu Kang doesn't move much in his sleep, either. He's got his arms around you, and his head pressed up against yours. It's the only way he can sleep well, he says. If you slip out of his arms somehow, he's awake almost immediately. It gives him peace of mind. He's also relatively warm, since he is the god of fire. So don't expect to be all covered up in blankets.

Liu Kang also refuses to leave until you are awake. He does not want to give the impression that he is abandoning you, he knows what its like to suddenly wake up alone. Quite frankly, you take precedence over godhood, and he doesn't mind waiting to start his day.

-Bi-Han

Bi-Han really enjoys nightly walks through the forest. He believes it's a great way to end the day and to wind down. The soft sounds of the wind running through the leaves, a streaming flowing in the distance, and no one but you and him. Sometimes, he'll just enjoy the silence, and other times he'll talk to you. Mundane things, stuff that even he seems to prideful to ask. But he'll ask about your day, and he'll want every little detail. Especially if you didn't get to spend your day with him.

Bi-Han also doesn't move at all in his sleep. He'll hold you every now and then, but he's more than content just sharing a bed with you. As said before, he almost has an aversion to touch. Sometimes he'll turn his back to you, but not because he's mad. It's simply a comfortable position. There are some times where he will wake up in the middle of the night and find himself wanting to hold you, so he will. He'll hold you close, almost as if he's afraid of loosing you.

Normally, Bi-Han wakes up first. Sometimes he'll be gone when you wake up, but he's soon to return. Other times, you wake up in his arms, while he's still sleeping. It's a game of chance to see who wakes up first, really.

-Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang will always wind down simply by laying in bed with you, your legs tangled amongst each other, his fingers caught up in your hair. He's so close to you, just mere centimeters from his lips, yet he does not close the distance. His eyes are transfixed on you, the silence full of love and passion and content. At the very last moment, when you get too impatient, he finally places his lips on yours. And you always melt into them, every single time.

Kuai Liang tends to move in his sleep a little, but not enough to wake you. Normally, you two will fall asleep spooning, but you'll wake up with him either pushed away from you, or somehow even closer. It's not voluntary, and when he finds himself away from you, he's a little heartbroken. But he'll make up for it, almost too quickly.

Kuai Liang will always wake up before you, he enjoys watching your sleeping face. He loves these small moments of vulnerability, it's something that matters deeply to him. To him, being able to fall asleep with someone isn't easy. He has to be comfortable being with you, and for you to be this vulnerable with him, it makes his heart skip a beat.

-Johnny Cage

Two words. Night drives. Johnny is and always will be down to take night drives with you. Around the city, somewhere in those smaller towns, or even on the country roads. Even if he complains that the country roads will fuck up his tires. He'll go anywhere you want, play any music you want, or none if you prefer Johnny's sweet, smooth voice. He'll always have his hand on your thigh, too. His hand won't wander, but he definitely enjoys your presence.

Johnny can't stay fucking still in his sleep, not for a second. Yeah, maybe he'll fall asleep with you in his arms, but when you wake up, he's sprawled out over the bed like Patrick fucking Star. You've lost track of how many times you've been kicked off the bed. All in love, though. He isn't doing it on purpose, he swears. Pinky swears. He'll get a bigger bed, soon! So you don't have to fight for your life to stay on it over the night!

You will always wake up before him, unless Johnny has a gig. He hates waking up in the morning, even if it's next to you. However, if you make an attempt to get out of bed while he's still asleep, he'll subconsciously grab onto you. He condemns you to an eternity in bed with him, as if it's your own personal hell. It isn't, but you always pout.

-Kenshi Takahashi

Like Kuai Liang, Kenshi prefers nothing more than settling down with you in bed. He enjoys the mood, having you rest your head on his bare chest, playing with your hair, running his hands down your back. Those quiet moments where you two just enjoy each others presence, finding peace within the chaos of the world. As ashamed as he is to be considered a (former) Yakuza, he does enjoy it when you trace his tattoos with your gentle hands.

While you fall asleep on Kenshi's chest more often then not, he's quite restless. He has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and seeking your comfort. And when you end up waking up with him, there are very quiet, tender moments. He'll call you his, runs his hands down your body all warm and tender, and kiss you passionately. If those moments don't end up with something else, simply sharing the intimacy and his feelings for you gets him to go back to sleep.

Surprisingly, you'll wake up before Kenshi does. Always. Perhaps it's the fact that he can never get a full nights sleep. But he likes waking up to you being there, he won't throw a fit like Johnny does if you get up without him, but it does sting a little for him. Though, he'll always find you in the house, and will always surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

-Kung Lao

To wind down, Kung Lao really enjoys just messing around. He's gonna chase you all around the house, slow dance with you from room to room, serenade you (horribly), and many more. He likes to make the time he spends with you as fun as possible, even if he's teasing you. By far, he loves carrying you around the house, telling you all sorts of stupid stories amidst telling you exactly how much he loves you.

Kung Lao tosses and turns quite a lot in his sleep. Yet, his arms will always find their way around your waist. Even if it's just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes, he has a habit of pushing you around the bed. He hates that he does, and he's tried to fix how restless his body is when he sleeps, but he just hasn't been able.

With that, Kung Lao always makes up for it in the morning. He's always going to wake up before you, always. Perhaps it's because of his life as a farmer, or maybe he just feels real guilty about his sleep habits. He refuses to let you leave the bed when you do wake up, he'll hold you real close by your waist and rest his forehead on yours. He'll stare in your eyes for what feels like forever, until he gives you a quick kiss on the lips and frees you.

-Raiden

Raiden enjoys just talking about your day before bed. To sit down, enjoy the sunset with each other, and talk about the mundane. Even if he's Earthrealm's protector, he really misses the mundane, the boring side of life. So to just hear about your day, even if all day was spent at home, is a great pleasure to him. And he'll tell you about his, too.

The man sleeps easy, Raiden doesn't have much troubling him in his sleep at all. He's perfectly still, although he does tend to lay on his back. He loves it when you cuddle up to him, even if you really only lay on his arm. He doesn't mind if he wakes up and it's numb, no, really.

Raiden is an early riser, and if you are too, then that's perfect. He also enjoys spending his mornings with you, in fact, he'll stay in bed til you wake up. He pretends he wakes up at the same time with you, just because it feels like a very special moment to him.

-Zeffeero

Zeffeero likes to use his magic to span out pretty little tricks for you. Laying down, your head resting on his shoulder, his hand lazily tracing your waist, as he spins out little spirals, forms stars, almost like shadow puppets. He'll argue that it's a waste of his talent, but you know he loves doing it for you. He loves that little sparkle of adoration in your eyes.

Zeffeero has a harder time going to sleep. He actually struggles a little with physical touch when he's trying to sleep, so more often then not, you two end up sleeping facing eachother. He'll cuddle you before bed, of course, but he just doesn't know why he has a problem with it when he's asleep. He's perfectly still, in his sleep though.

Because of this, you always wake up to Zeffeero playing with your hair, admiring your features, and even humming slightly to himself. That being said, it doesn't matter how early you wake up, he will always, always wake up first. It's almost like a challenge for you, but you don't relinquish the sweet sanctity of sleep.

-Tomas Vrbada

Tomas loves making the night magical, with what he can do. The amount of effort and thought he puts into every night to make it the perfect experience is almost scary. Anything you want, he'll do. However, he loves slow dancing with you in your room before you two fall asleep. Especially in the dark. It's a wonder how he doesn't bump into anything, guiding you along. During this, he loves to intertwine his fingers with yours, pulling you in real close by the small of your back, and peppering your face with kisses.

After you two end up falling onto the bed, Tomas keeps you close. He wraps you two up in the covers, and falls asleep relatively quickly. As peaceful as he seems during the day, at night he feels haunted by what would have been. Tomas has chronic nightmares, and he tends to wake up a lot in the middle of the night. If he wakes you up with them, he feels so guilty. He doesn't wake up suddenly, since he is used to this, but he does tend to twitch in his sleep.

It's a 50/50 chance with who will wake up first, if it's Tomas, he re-adjusts and pulls you in even closer. He hates waking up, he's the type to spend at least an hour in bed with you before properly waking up. If you wake up first, and leave the bed, he actively seeks you out in his tired state. Once he finds you, he drags you right back to bed.

-Baraka

Night walks are one of the greatest ways to end the day with Baraka. Anywhere, he'll always make the small trip worth it. Normally, you two walk in silence. It's not a bad thing, simply spending time with you reminds him how loved he is. But sometimes you'll find odd little things to talk about, tell stories, all of it.

Baraka prefers not to hold you, in fact he's afraid to even sleep in the same bed. He loves you, and it's because of that. He's worried about spreading Tarkat to you, so he'll keep his distance in bed. He wants so desperately to hold you, to bury his face in your neck and feel your warmth, but your life is not worth that. Because of this, he sleeps with his back to you.

Baraka wakes up before you. He sleeps lightly, and any little twitch wakes him up. Normally, he can never really get back to sleep. So he'll sit up in bed and wait on you to wake up. He thinks it's important for you to wake up to him, because with all the things he wants to do but can't, he at least wants you to know he'll always be there.

-Geras

Geras' favorite thing to do to wind down before you two go to bed is to read with you. Perhaps he is a construct of time and has no use for mortal literature, but he kind of finds it interesting. Whatever book you're reading, he wants to read, too. Having you sit on his lap, while you two read the same book, it makes him tired. Even though he really has no concept of being tired. You bring out a whole range of emotions that he never thought was possible from a construct.

If you don't fall asleep as-is in Geras' arms, he loves spooning. He really has no need for sleep, but he will gladly guide you off to sleep. He'll stroke your hair, place kisses on the back of your shoulders, and whisper all sorts of sweet nothings. And once you're asleep, he goes right back to watching over the timeline. He'd love to sleep with you, but it is really only something he can fake.

By the time you're awake, Geras is right back in bed with you. He'd hate to have you wake up alone, so he always takes an hour or so out of his tireless watch to be with you in the morning. He'll wake you up gently, make you some tea, and hold you close for a couple minutes, before kissing you and sending you off on your day.

-Syzoth

By far, Syzoth is probably the most cuddly. He enjoys watching some of Johnny's horrid movies before bed,- but only the nice ones- while he's all wrapped around you. He's got his legs tangled up with yours, holding you close to his chest, and kissing the crown of your head. He actually refuses to have you leave his arms- unless you really need it or are uncomfortable- because keeping you close is the only thing that really sends him to sleep.

You'll fall asleep like that, too. You have an effect on Syzoth, he just feels so happy and safe with you that he'll fall asleep halfway through the movie. While he tends to wake up every now and then, he doesn't move a damn muscle in his sleep. Not a one. Sometimes, he'll squeeze you just a little tighter when he wakes up. To remind himself that you're there.

You end up waking up before Syzoth does, and it's a struggle to get out of his hold. But, by then, he's awake too. He'll let you escape, but when you get out of bed, he insists on pulling you back to bed with him. For at least 20 more minutes. And then, he'll follow you around as you brush your teeth, shower, etc. He's especially clingy in the morning.

-Havik

As mentioned in my love languages post, Havik loves naps. So normally, you find yourself laying on his chest, while he tries to fall asleep for the third time today. He believes being able to fall asleep with someone is the ultimate vulnerability, so having you there makes him feel stronger. As long as some part of you is touching him while he drifts off, he's happy. And if you even stray from him, he's pulling you back in, all grumpy.

Havik has trouble sleeping properly, despite his favorite pastime. He finds himself waking up quite often, and he has some rather visceral reactions. He tends to wake you up, too. But he's always apologetic. He'll pull you in closer, loosing himself in your eyes. Only then do you two end up falling back asleep. Sometimes, it repeats a couple times through the night, but there are some nights where he sleeps peacefully.

You will always wake up before Havik does. But he's still very aware of his surroundings, so if you try and leave the bed before he's even semi-conscious, he's going to pout and pull you back in once more. He'll hide his face in your neck, muttering "mine", until he's fully awake and ready to start the day.

-General Shao

Shao is a fucking CUDDLEBUG. Despite his big and mean demeanor, he loves showing you around the city before bed. Even if you've seen it a thousand times before, he loves the palace at night. He's got his hand on your waist, in the moments he knows you two are alone. And when you two get back home, he's carrying you to bed. He refuses to let you walk. You're his, and he's going to treat you like royalty. He'll make sure you're all snug and comfortable under the sheets, then get underneath them with you.

When Shao is still in his sleep, he's got one arm around you and your head pressed up against his chest. For someone with a life like his, he sleeps peacefully, though he does sleep light. Any little sound that isn't just you shifting in bed, or the house settling has him awake and fully alert. I'd be lying if I said he didn't have a couple knives ready. Not that he needs them. He'll slink out of bed and scout out the whole house to make sure nothings amiss. And once he's sure that no ones here to try and hurt him or you, he'll get back in bed. When you ask what happened, he'll saying "Nothing" in this tired and grumpy voice.

Waking up in the bed alone is a common occurrence. Shao's a general, so he has to be up bright and early, no matter how long you two stayed up til. He regrets that he can't spend time in the morning with you, but sometimes you'll find him getting ready, and that's quite enough for him.

-Shang Tsung

Wherever you two are, Shang Tsung enjoys taking you out on a "romantic" night, walking and talking, a little slow dancing here and there, and really just showing you off to the complete strangers of the night. He'll even steal some passionate kisses under the moon, just to top off the night. And when you return home, he's whining that he's too tired and will just drag you right to bed.

Shang Tsung loves to be held in bed, yeah he'll hold you too, but you have to be the big spoon. Have to. He's a diva like that. And if you so much as accidentally move in his sleep, he's going to pout and whine in the morning that you didn't hold him. But he sleeps rather soundly, aside from that. In fact, he's a pretty heavy sleeper.

You are the first to wake up, and Shang Tsung will wake up only a second after. You know, to whine that you aren't holding him close enough. After that, though, he refuses to leave bed. Begging you to stay, almost desperately. Especially in the morning, he seeks your comfort. He wants to hold you, whisper all sorts of things to you, all to ease his mind.

-Reiko

Reiko is the only one who thinks the very, very best way to end the day is sparring. He's going to tackle you in bed, and while you writhe and try to break free of his touch, he's going to pepper your face with kisses and make his way from your bottom lip, to your chin, to your neck, only to pick you up and fake throwing you back down. Yeah, it wakes you up more than it tires you out, but after a couple minutes, he'll give up and lay down on the bed with you. Out of breath. He puts way too much effort into play fighting with you, really.

Those moments are the very rare moments you get to see Reiko drop his serious, war-ridden face. After all that, he'll roll over to his side and lay his arm over you. He won't full-on cuddle you at night, he finds it harder to sleep like that. But he makes sure he's touching you in some way. However, he has a hard time sleeping peacefully. He's haunted, and he tends to wake up at least twice a night. He doesn't have a big reaction, it's more like he's flinch a bit and wake up. It's something that will never wake you up, but he will always take a minute to hover over you when he does wake up.

Like Shao, Reiko always wakes up first. But he'll wake you up with him. All gentle like, he won't shake you or anything. He wants to make sure he gets at least a few words and waking moments with you before he starts his day. And before he leaves, he always pulls you in for a soft kiss, one full of yearning and adoration. That's something he will never forget to do.

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bardofbarbatos · 2 years

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Venti’s laughter was light watching the residents wander about the festival. A gentle tug on his cape pulled him away from festival to chase the kids who attended the festival. He smiled falling into a small patch of flowers. He watched the children run back and forth a few asking for song. The bard laughed standing his lips moving producing a newer song. He took the hands of one young girl spinning her in a circle. “There will come a soldier Who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down”

Venti sang watching as a young boy with a toy sword rushed forward to do battle with another boy. Their laughter carried by the wind as he started to head back towards the festival leaving them to play their games. “Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, Lord He will tear your city down Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, Lord”

#Stories of the Wind { Drabble }#short open to replies

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 6 months

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With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat.

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other.

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you.

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story.

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

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baddestbittyontheblock · 5 months

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kim mingyu fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

◿ ◸ cute drabble by @twogyuu mingyu kim x gn!reader | fluff

-mingyu asks you to consider getting married.

◿ ◸ stubborn by @jaestrz mingyu kim x reader

-mingyu and you quarreled over a bag you saw. he insisted on paying but you refused.

◿ ◸ breathe by @jaestrz mingyu kim x reader | angst, fluff, idol au, mention of anxiety and hospitals

-“y/n we need you right now.”

◿ ◸ can't get enough by @number1mingyustan bf!mingyu kim x fem!reader | smut, established relationship, penetrative sex, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, creampie, crying, really messy sex, accidental edging?

-mingyu just can’t seem to get enough of you

◿ ◸ let me pt:1 by @sluttywoozi mingyu kim x reader | overprotective gyu, swearing, food/eating, allusion to lack of safety on college campuses, making out, no gendered pronouns or petnames used, wears a dress and bra at one point, one of their shirts is small on gyu, gets picked up briefly by gyu, 4.8k

-you've been the student athletic trainer for your uni's basketball team all year, and you're pretty sure mingyu has had a crush on you the whole time. you're not sure how much longer you can resist him.

◿ ◸ the morning by @cheolhub mingyu kim x reader | marriage kink (ik…), oral (f. receiving), gyu is a needy baby, a bit of teasing, praise — MINORS DNI 18+, 2.2k

-mingyu knows you have a lot to do the day before the wedding, but he won’t let you leave without giving him his favorite meal for breakfast

◿ ◸ local lover boy by @cheolism kim mingyu x fem!reader | fluff, romance; comfort, humor as well, nudity; mdni

-after you've had a long week of work, mingyu decides to help you wind down for the night.

◿ ◸ just a little by @yunhohours needy!bf!mingyu x fem!reader | sub!mingyu in the sense that mingyu literally begs to make reader cum, reader is a lil mean maybe??, oral (f. receiving), 2.3k

◿ ◸ a second longer by @papercupids kim mingyu x reader | fluff, friends to lovers, kinda slowburn?

-you've been friends for too long, and mingyu's had enough of the pining.

◿ ◸ home by @papercupids kim mingyu x reader | way too much fluff, this can be read as a standalone but i wrote it after writing "a second longer,"

◿ ◸ restless without you by @duhnova mingyu x gn!reader | fluff

◿ ◸ hot or cold by @jjuniehao mingyu x gn!reader | established relationship, fluff!!, mention of marriage

-when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt smut #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #fic recs #fic rec

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 20 days

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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03

@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin

@sofiparallel

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the-silver-peahen-residence · 2 years

Text

||The Wind Hurricane vs The Machine destroyer||

*waving eating ramen* Hi again, have another drabble today. I do have more to write but somehow, my head got me writing some more so today you got two drabbles in one. In this one, Breezy was always curious of how strong Rust is so they decided to have a little sparing fight against one another; seeing which was stronger: Her demonic winds or his demonic bloody strength?

Read to find out

||Warnings||

Not much of warnings but fighting and little blood from the fight.

Ironia “Rust” Knight belongs to the amazing @demon-blood-youths

Anya “Breezy” Hurricane belongs to me.

Grammar mistakes are still known so just a heads up being pretty bad. With that, please enjoy.

“Wait, you want to do what now?” Rust was trying to make sure he understand what the other was asking of him. Of course he was just being sure. Breezy blinks with arms crossed over her chest, tilting her head to giggle.

“You heard me right, Rust Knight. I wanna have a sparing match with you. You always did say we should find out who is more stronger: Metal or the wind. Besides, that’s why I invited you to come here to this hidden junkyard area I found last year. I come here to train at times so I figure why not?” He looks to her then around, seeing some destruction but it had to be due to her training after the events and missions he’s gone with her.

“Hmmm....and you figure we should?”

“Why not? I’m eager for a good little spar...your not nervous about it are you?” she smiled looking at him with Rust shaking his head. Of course he’s not! He wasn’t nervous of fighting her and yet...he was curious on how powerful she was. With a grin, he held his hands up to slam his human hand into his own metal one.

“Sure, If you wanna do that then lets go!” he was pumped to fight that Breezy giggled smiling.

“Good to see you agree.” She backs up slightly but was getting into a fighting stance while looking at him. Breezy sees Rust get on the other side in front of her, holding his hands up in fists ready to go while she was ready. “Oh and Rust? Be sure you don’t hold back. Just because I’m a girl, you shouldn’t hold back either way right?”

“Heh, right....lets see if we can see who is stronger: Metal or the wind?”

The two said nothing looking at one another before he rushes over now throwing punches towards her. He already noticed her dodging and moving from each blow, seeing him stepping forward trying to attack. Breezy looks seeing this only for her to return the attack with some kicks. He felt a strong breeze from that kick, looking at her as she held her leg forward by a thrust, seeing him duck as she looked serious.

Her fighting style was Muay Thai (Thai kickboxing with a mix of tai-chi and normal kickboxing) but it’s all enhanced due to being a demon so this works. She smirked seeing that to try slamming her heel down to the blonde’s head.

“!!!!” Seeing that, Rust dodges that but quick enough to see it smash into the ground. A small crater was seen with broken up rock and dirt as it creates cracks. Damn, she was not joking when it came to her strength. He sees her dash in front of him that he held his arms up as she gets on her hands now throwing fast kick like blows to him. He blocks it with his arms wincing from the blows that the wind blows against his grey hoodie. Each kick was felt through his bones that he keeps moving back for her to flip back on her feet rushing over to him. When seeing them blocked, she kicks him back hard in the stomach away from her as he winces from the force of her kick.

Coughing a bit, he throws a punch as she was dodging quickly to him punching her in the stomach skidding back. She coughs herself but recovers to rush over to him once more.

Breezy begins throwing her own wave of kicks and punches. He dodges and deflects each one or some, feeling a few hit him but he can feel the power behind each one. A strong burst of the wind coming from her attacks that he had to duck from a sweeping over head kick as the blast crashes into a broken down car that felt the blow of the wind to the door denting slightly and crashes into another pile behind it.

“...Geez, you were not joking..” He mutters to quickly block using his metal arm as she swings another kick as he held her attack back. Her gunpowder blue colored eyes looking into his hazel colored eyes with a smile but she keeps pushing her leg down making the ground under Rust crack up. He looks noticing that but he had to do something before she has him in the ground.

Pushing his metal arm up, Breezy noticed to have him push her back while she flips backwards to land on her feet looking down. Her face was not showing but she looks up now showing her glowing eyes. Yeah, seems the fight was getting a bit more serious for the fun.

“Seems you really were not joking..now I get why they call you the cursed hurricane.” He held up his arms but shows Destroyer with metal tinkering using Blood Configuration but she only giggles seeing his eyes now become a blood red. “So maybe I really need to step up my game here.”

“I have to live up to my name of course, just like you would right? Besides, were having fun.and testing to see who is stronger right?” that’s when she gets on her hands to start spinning creating a massive stronger wind. Rust winces seeing she was creating a wind dome around them that she jumps back on her feet before dashing towards him. “SO SHOW ME WHAT YA GOT, LOVE!”

Right away, he dodges the more deadly kicks and punches from her as he threw a few back at her. Some did hit her as she winces from the blow only to punch him back right into a car. He sees her running towards him as he gets up, grabbing a broken down car and throws it at her but he was proven a point seeing Breezy look up at the car and use her demonic strength to strike the car as it was cut in half! His red eyes widen seeing that!? What the hell!!!!

Seeing that, she runs towards him that he keeps throwing cars at Breezy. She jumps on top of a car now moving forward or sending a car or two back at Rust that he dodges out the way seeing it crash into the ground. He gets back up to see her coming down with a strike of her feet only for him to hold his hand out grabbing her ankle that shocked her.

“!?”

He begins spinning round and round with her making a small cyclone himself before letting go. She was sent flying right into some pile as it got blasted away to have her land roughly on the ground. Rust saw the parts falling from the sky but she slowly sits up to shake her head. She got up again slowly but cracked her neck and looks at him. He can see her darker gunpowder blue was glowing even more, clawing the ground excited for this sparring fight. He really was something else wasn’t he?

Rust held his hands up in fists still ready to go as she felt some of her blood run down her nose but she was healing to wipe it off. Getting up, she cracked her knuckles before running over to him. They kept up the sparing fight for a while before the wind eases up. The area was totaled from the fight that it leaves Breeze and Rust covered in bruises, blood and other stuff that he swings another right hook only for Breezy to kick him back in the stomach. He skids back holding it seeing her flipping over now delivering another strike that he counters with a kick of his own. The two looks at one another in the eyes.

Her now dark gunpowder blue into the blood red eyes. The rush of the fight already got their bloods pumping wanting to see who was stronger before...

“BREEZY!!!!”

“RUST!!!”

“????” Both Breezy and Rust blinks to snap out of it looking to the right seeing their fractions standing there. However a angry Echo and Navarro was looking shocked and angry at the destroyed hidden junkyard. Their leaders was shocked but excited seeing this while the others were having a dumbfounded look on their faces thinking, ‘What. the. heck. happened here!?’

The two lower their legs to look at the others but looked at the angry younger members. That’s when the two wince hearing a car falling over to crash into another pile. “Ummmm....we can expla-”

“EXPLAIN WHAT!? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING!?” Echo shouts mad that Breezy winces from the yell.

“N..Nothing! Just a friendly sparing match, Echo!” she said holding her hands up that Navrro glares to Rust who was rubbing the back of his head laughing nervously.

“A SPARING MATCH!? YOU TWO LOOKED LIKE YOU WERE JUST GOING CRAZY! WHAT THE HELL RUST!”

“Hey, I was just sparring with her like Breezy said! That’s nothing of a crime is it!?” he said also looking to Navarro.

“You two are seriously idiots! I mean, you two destroyed this area and their so many cars all over the place and...is that one cut in half!? Breezy!!”

“What?! I didn’t do nothing wrong!” she whines that the angry bombers walks over grabbing their team members as they were trying to calm them down. The leaders Jinx and Ink blinks but looks to one another before grinning. That made Vivi and Shdwkyz notice.

“Don’t think about it you two.....” They said seeing the leaders look but giggle rubbing their heads. When the bombers were calm, Breezy sighed to look at them.

“Though, I will admit this Rust is really fucking strong! I mean, I see why he does what he does so this sparring match proves it!” she smiled happy that Rust looks to her but shakes his head.

“But that’s the same for you too! You cut a car in half using the wind I mean damn that’s power! Though, the same for your fighting style!” she blinks this time to giggle, rubbing the back of her head. The two just laughed to feel a hit behind the head by the bombers.

“OUCH!!”

“HEY!!”

Now the two was shouting at them for being too wild but the fractions just sighed seeing this. Well, at least Rust and Breezy had fun right? When the shouting was done, the groups were heading back to their sections. Vivi was making a portal to go home that they were waving to them. However, Breezy and Rust did a fist pump still smiling.

“See ya later! And thanks for the spar Rust! I hope we can do another in the future!” she grins with a smile and eyes closed. He blinks to try not to blush, waving back to her.

“You know it! Thanks for the spar Breezy!”

With that, the Cursed Vixens leave heading home as the portal closes behind them. The DBT sees them gone but Rust was happy with the fight with Breezy today. This just proves both the wind and metal were dangerous in their own ways. These two would be a very powerful team up indeed.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #Silver butterfly mun #Peahen mom #the mansion owner #The Wind Hurricane vs The Machine destroyer #Ironia rust knight #Anya breezy hurricane #The fractions of NYC #peahen writer

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notjustjavierpena · 3 months

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drabble idea - javi and reader at some family/friends party before the kids, maybe engaged already and reader is holding a cousins baby or something. Javi isn’t with her and when he enters the room he’s awestruck. He already knew he wanted kids with her and a family but just seeing her bouncing the baby while laughing at something someone is saying just completely takes his breath away.

Baby (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is so incredibly adorable, and of course, I will make this come true for you, Anon. I hope you enjoy 💖🫶

Summary: Javier spots you at a party with a baby in your arms. Suddenly, he knows what he wants.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, baby fever, lovelovelove.

Word count: 1k

Baby

Amidst the lively chatter of a family gathering, Javier looks for you in the living room after having had a beer with his father outside on the terrace.

He passes by several tías who pinch his cheeks and compliment his choice of shirt to which he gives you the credit. They call him handsome, and he charms them back as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“No wonder you ended up with such a catch, Javi,” one of them says, referring to you. She nods in your direction but he still cannot see you for all the people having gathered in the tiny house, can’t hear your voice either in between bursts of laughter and screen doors opening and closing.

He starts to make his way in your direction, craving your gentle touch when he starts to feel overwhelmed by these kinds of things. On his way, he ruffles the hair of one of his nephews who shows him a stack of colorful football cards.

“Very cool,” he says genuinely as he looks over the boy’s shoulder. He hasn’t been home in so long that he isn’t up to date with the local team anymore, otherwise he would have mentioned that.

“I’m only missing a few of my favorite team,” his nephew replies excitedly and it earns him another hair ruffle. Javier continues through the crowd afterward.

There you are, he thinks to himself, and just when he is about to approach you, all the wind is knocked out of him because you are in the middle of a conversation, laughing at something that is being said, and you have Sofía, his cousin’s daughter, on your hip.

He stops in his tracks, freezing to the spot to watch you. At that moment, he knows that he wants to build a family with you. It becomes so clear as he observes you naturally talk to the baby on your arm, smiling widely down at her only to giggle when you receive a grin right back. He catches a glimpse of the future and the incredible mother you could be and on top of that, the incredible mother that he wants to make you.

It isn’t that he has never had the thought of starting a family with you before but seeing you navigate having a child in your arms so effortlessly makes him grasp how real and possible it is that it’ll one day be his child you are holding.

A few children run past him, shouting loudly as they chase each other and the noise pulls him out of his trance. All the other grownups have faded into the background, and it seems that his brain can only think of kids, bedtime stories, coloring books, and parent-teacher conferences. His head swims.

Even more so when the noise also makes you look up and catch his eye. You smile at him and it tugs at something in his chest. He needs to be close to you, taking longer steps than normal to get to you quicker.

“Hello fiancée,” he says when he approaches and kisses you softly. You say hello back but seem busy staring down at the baby in your arms. He turns his attention to the little bundle of joy, reaching out to twist the soft hairs on top of her head until it is standing up in a spiral, “Y hola a tí, Sofía, ¿Cómo estás? (And hello to you, Sofía. How are you?)”

Sofía gurgles at getting further attention. She swings her little fists.

“Your cousin just asked me if I could take her for a moment,” you explain with a shy smile, bouncing Sofía on your hip. She smiles widely up at you, squealing with delight as you make a face at her, “And you are so cute, aren’t you? Oh, look at her little tuft of hair.”

Javier adores you. He watches Sofía reach out for your earring, trying to yank on it and you grab her little hand but never once look irritated. Instead, you let her hold onto your fingers instead and say something gentle again.

“We should make one,” he announces quietly so only you can hear it, leaning closer to you to keep the conversation private. You look up immediately but still tickle at Sofía’s tiny palm.

“A baby?” You ask with wide eyes. It’s a little louder than you intended, and a few heads turn to look at you. You lower your voice, clearing your throat at first, “A baby?”

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love),” he snakes an arm around your back to rest his hand on your hip, “A dozen of them actually.”

“We’re getting married next year,” you tut, shaking your head as if he is being ridiculous, “I’m not looking like someone who swallowed a soccer ball in my wedding dress.”

“You could wear an old football jersey and I would still marry you,” he kisses the side of your head, “¿Pero qué no (but why not)?”

“One thing at a time,” you say with a nervous chuckle. Then you shift Sofía in your arms, “Can you take her? I am so damn thirsty.”

“Sure, bring her here,” he holds out his arms, “C’mere, Princesa (princess).”

The transfer is so smooth that one would think you have done it before. He gets a tiny hand in his face, Sofía feeling his cheek.

“Be right back,” you say with a sweet smile, “Both of you.”

One thing at a time, you said. However, with the way you turn back to watch him with Sofía in his arms as you head for the drinks table, he knows that this is what you want too.

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bvidzsoo · 4 months

Text

Who am I?

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: mentions of a gun, cursing, smut

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,2k

Summary: Going through the dark passageway late in the night really wasn't your greatest idea, but the angels were on lookout that night and sent Jeong Yunho as your savior. But what happens when you realize Jeong Yunho isn't at all what he seems to be?

A/N: Uh...hi? This piece here really shouldn't exist, like the way I wrote it was so against the routine I have when doing stories, I'm even shocked it became real. It also was supposed to be a mere longer drabble but oh well, I suck at writing short stories either way. Also, Jeong Yunho is a constant in my mind lately so...ig it was inevitable that I write something with him. *sigh* There's smut in here and ugh...yeah, I tried again lol. Leave feedback, I very much appreciate it and stay tuned for the next chapter of the rockstar!au Mingi story! Enjoy now and tell me your thoughts!

⟨Masterlist⟩

It really was my fault; I should have been smarter before turning down the dimly lit passageway between the two tall buildings. But the path towards my flat was shorter this way, and I was in a hurry, desperate to finally get home after a long and busy day. The streets were quiet as night had settled upon the otherwise lively city and as I exhaled through my mouth, a little puff of smog appeared in the chilly air. My hands slipped deeper into the pockets of my black bomber jacket as I nuzzled my nose more into it, the tip of it unmistakably red. Winter struck upon us quite unexpectedly and the hope that we still had a few more days of sunshine and as little warmth as the sun could offer came crushing down when the wind picked up two days ago and snow started falling immediately. And what was even worse is that the temperatures dropped so low that everything had frozen over by now and it was slipper; in the past ten minutes I have almost fallen on my bum at least three times. But the little scare got my heart pumping faster, and I wasn’t feeling as cold as I was supposed to despite the layers of clothing adorning my body.

There was a light shuffle behind me, that was the first thing which caught my attention, and then suddenly, the dark figure standing a few feet ahead close to the wall, as if they were facing it, was the second thing to alarm me. My heart leaped slightly as my hands balled up into fists in my pockets, but I quickly tried to calm myself down. Not all men were evil and not all men wanted to hurt women, and I wasn’t even sure it was a man standing up front. My legs carried me faster and I gulped when the person whipped their head around to look at me. My hunch was right, it was a man, and he had a bloodied lip as I took in his face while still approaching. I quickly averted my eyes and quickened my pace, hoping that if I ignored him, he would ignore me as well. I had nothing on me if he decided to attack me, I could only hope my fists were good enough and I wouldn’t break my fingers if I was forced to use brute force. I only would have had to take three more steps to be past the man, but he suddenly jumped in front of me and I came to a halt as he squared me up. I tried not to let him see the fear I was feeling pulsing through my body as I clenched my jaw as my body lightly trembled from the adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

“Hey there, bunny.” My eyebrows furrowed at his raw voice, almost as if it was hard for him to speak as a disgusting smirk painted his lips. I suddenly wished I had taken the longer way, walked on the main road instead of this shortcut. When the man realized I wouldn’t say anything back, he tsked, “Are you shy, little bunny?”

Nicknames were annoying in a normal scenario and it was only making my skin crawl right now, but I remained silent, gripping the keys of my flat’s front door which I had in my left pocket. One wrong move from the man, and I wouldn’t hesitate to stab him with it.

“Why are you not answering me?” His voice got rougher and he took a wobbly step towards me, and without much thought, I whirled around with the purpose of walking back the way I have come, but another man was blocking my path. He looked lanky and was hunched over as his lips pulled into a scary sneer. I was cornered. My hands started trembling more as I took a deep breath, trying to think level headed, but my mind was clouded with panic as I searched for an escape route without much success. Before I could even react, the man with the busted lip approached me from behind and as I turned to be able to see him, his rough hand made contact with my left shoulder. I quickly yanked myself away and slightly crashed into the concrete wall of the building behind me.

“Don’t touch me!” I managed to snap out with a shaky voice, yet it sounded rough. It certainly didn’t match the way I was feeling, scared absolutely shitless.

“Is my little bunny scared?” If I wasn’t so scared I probably would’ve seen red at his claim over me, and it only made it worse as the other man chuckled. My eyes snapped towards him before quickly looking back at the other man when I realized he tried to grab at me again.

“I said, don’t touch me!” I shrieked and went to push him backwards, breathing irregularly as I was full on shaking, on the verge of a break down. But if I started crying I would look helpless, which I was, and I probably wouldn’t be able to see anything, so I willed myself to blink away the tears quickly.

“You little bitch, you wanna play rough?” The man spat as he had stumbled backwards from my push and I shrunk against the wall when the taller one suddenly started approaching, a hungry stare in his eyes. My lips started trembling and I went to yank out my keys and lunge at the taller one, but a very amused chuckle halted everyone’s actions. All I could think about was a third man coming to do vile things to me and at the thought, a few tears rolled down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped at them when I saw the battered-up man smirking in my direction at my distress.

“I thought I beat your sorry ass into unconsciousness.” At the hear of the third person’s voice, the battered-up man suddenly froze and his eyes widened as the taller one took a step back, leaving just enough space for me to run away, “What are you still doing out here?”

The battered-up one cursed under his breath before putting on a fake smile as he whirled around, facing the third man. I was too scared to look, shaking, as I pondered whether it was the distraction I needed to run away, “I was just playing with my little bunny, you should go on your way—”

“She doesn’t look like she wants to play with you, Siwon.” The third man snapped and my eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of his tone. It resembled someone’s I knew from my university, but I remained unmoving as the tall man slowly backed away, “And you, Nikhun, I thought I said I didn’t want to see you around here, anymore…”

“I was just passing by.” The taller one, Nikhun, stiffly said before he abruptly turned around and took off almost in a run as the familiar voice just chuckled. My muscles slightly relaxed as I realized I could now just run back the way I had come, and moving slowly, I started heading just that way.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to kill you, Siwon,” The familiar sounding man tsked as I continued slowly walking with my back pressed up against the building’s cold wall, “But you’re really testing my patience lately.”

“Fuck you, man.” Siwon spat and I jumped when there was suddenly a loud crash and an exasperated scoff. I froze and didn’t dare breathe as I felt eyes on me. I didn’t know who was looking at me or what happened, I was scared to turn my head and look. I had to run. But as I pushed myself away from the wall, the familiar voice suddenly called out.

“It’s okay now, Y/N.” What—I whipped my head around and first took in the scene. Siwon, the battered-up man, was lying on the ground unconscious by the big trashcan. The loud bang must’ve been him. With wide eyes, I looked at the third man alarmed, and my jaw dropped as I stood staring at the familiar face of Jeong Yunho. Everyone knew him at university and everyone loved him. Jeong Yunho was like the sunshine. He was always smiling and laughing, cracking harmless jokes and hitting up a conversation effortlessly with anyone. He was kind and considerate, he always helped out anyone who needed help. He would carry your stuff if they were heavy and he’d walk you home if it was too late. He held the door open for anyone and he would make place for you at the Cafeteria if there were no more empty spots. The Jeong Yunho who was often found in the library with his nose buried in books, typing furiously on his laptop, and always turning in his assignments way before their deadline. He wore light colors and fluffy clothes, often paired with hilarious beanies and hats. But the guy standing a few feet away from me looked nothing like the Yunho I have taken glances at or heard stories about. Yunho and I weren’t friends, we were far from being acquittances even, but everyone knew him at our university and that included me. We were people from two very different universes and I had no idea how he knew my name. Yes, sure, we would cross paths in the library at times when I was in a rush as my deadline was a day or two away, and yes, I did almost spill my coffee on him once, but there was never a conversation involved or an exchange of names. Just a small, “Oh, my, God! I’m so sorry, that was a close call.”, and a “Don’t worry about it, you have great coordination, you stopped in time.” If I would have had great coordination, I wouldn’t have nearly ran into him, but I didn’t have the time to tell him that as I was late to work.

“Yun—Yunho?” I stuttered out finally once I was one hundred percent convinced it was Jeong Yunho. The dimly lit passageway made it harder to see his face from where I was standing and his clothes were unrecognizable, but it was his voice which confirmed his identity.

“Jeong Yunho in person.” He chuckled and I finally pulled myself together and slowly started approaching him. My legs were slightly shaky and I was still clutching my keys tightly in my left hand, but my heartbeat was slowly calming down. I passed by Siwon and took a peek against my better judgement, eyes widening when I saw the little trickle of red from the side of his head. Was he…going to die?

I looked up as I came to a stop a few steps away from Yunho and exhaled, coming face to face with a very unfamiliar looking Jeong Yunho. Despite the cold weather he was wearing a black leather jacket over what seemed to be a long-sleeved form fitting blouse with graphic design on it, and wide black jeans hugged his legs with the blouse tucked in, showing off his waist. His neck was decorated with various necklaces and as he extended one hand towards me, I noticed all the rings on his long fingers. I gulped as I looked back up at him, slightly intimidated and mostly confused. His black hair was completely pushed back and the usual fluffiness was gone from it.

“Come, you’re safe now.” Yunho encouraged me with his usual warm smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I reluctantly extended my hand and placed it in his palm, gasping when he yanked me forward, making me jump over Siwon’s slumped body. Yunho smirked as I somehow managed not to fall against his chest, big eyes staring up at him in shock, “Good thing I was passing by, angel, or else these two…”

He didn’t finish his sentence and he didn’t have to; I knew. I gulped and became aware of the awfully obvious height difference between the two of us and scrambled to pull my hand out of his, but Yunho’s grip suddenly tightened and he stepped closer, making me tip my head back as I tried looking in his eyes. My heart was racing once again and I could feel a blush creep up onto my cheeks as Yunho’s eyes examined my face with a small smirk, “What are you doing out here so late at night?”

“I—” My mind blanched for a second as Yunho’s cold fingers intertwined with mine, “I had the evening shift today, I—I was just walking home.”

“It’s unsafe at this hour.” Yunho’s voice turned stern and I averted my eyes, suddenly embarrassed that I was getting scolded by him, “And especially through this neighborhood, Y/N. You should’ve stuck to the main road instead.”

“I know.” I grumbled under my breath and Yunho chuckled, his voice deep, and it only made me flush harder as I avoided eye contact.

“Let’s get you home.” He said quietly and I looked at him alarmed, extracting my hand from his as he started walking us towards the end of the passageway.

“I can walk on my own—” I said in a panic, not wanting Yunho to walk with me. I wasn’t even far away, I have taken this route so many times before, I was going to be fine now that those two men were gone, but Yunho’s tone definitely made me rethink my words as he spoke up.

“You are not walking on your own, especially around here.” Yunho’s voice was sharp and he threw me a quick glare as he looked behind, at me, “Do you not know anything about this place?”

I shrugged and pushed my hands into my pockets again, “I do, but it’s not that big of a deal. I always walk home at this time and nothing has ever happened. I just had bad luck tonight.”

“Bad luck, you say.” Yunho scoffed, face contorted into disgust, “The things those two would’ve done to you would have been terrible, Y/N, and you call it bad luck?”

“Okay, fine.” I snapped and walked up to his side, giving him a wide-eyed stare, “Walk me home then, but this is fucking weird. How do you even know my name?”

Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and his sharp stare made me gulp as I shrunk back, walking a little further away from him, “We go to the same university.”

“I’m not popular.” I deadpanned and Yunho shrugged, looking ahead as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“You once scribbled in a book from the library and I was at the front desk when the librarian lost it. She rambled on about you for a good fifteen minutes before I was finally allowed to rent the book I wanted.” I cleared my throat in embarrassment, remembering well what the next day looked like when I walked inside the library. I have skipped going there for the next two months from shame as the librarian had screamed at me for ten minutes without even as much as taking a breath.

“Whatever, it’s still weird.” I muttered and nuzzled my nose behind the neckline of my jacket, regretting now that I haven’t worn a scarf. Yunho just chuckled and cast me a side glance as his longs legs carried him around faster than my shorter ones; it almost felt like I was jogging next to him. He must’ve been cold with how few clothing items he was wearing. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander towards him as I took in his appearance again, deciding that this version of Yunho was intimidating and quite…hot. His bright persona was certainly eye catching but this felt different, alluring almost.

“It’s not weird,” Yunho said with a chuckle, lips pulling into an amused smile, “I’m just observant.”

I hummed, but didn’t look at him as I asked my next question while we crossed the road, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Yunho chuckled again, but it was lower and as we looked at each other briefly, there was a dark glint in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, mischief written all over his face, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I rolled my eyes and quickened my pace, just wanting to get home already. I was tired and cold.

“Do you have the evening shift often?” He asked after a minute of silence.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I fired back and Yunho laughed, head tilting back slightly, “Don’t expect me to give you an answer when you evade mine with a question.”

“You didn’t look like you’d be this feisty, angel.” My steps halted as I stared at Yunho incredulously, eyes slightly widening in offense. What did he mean by that?

“I’m tired.” I called out since Yunho hadn’t stopped walking and now I had to jog to catch up with his long strides, “And you’re walking too fast.”

“My apologies.” Yunho suddenly slowed down and looked at me with a big smile, the first time he looked like the Yunho I knew from university, “Sometimes I forget not everyone has long legs like mine.”

“Yeah,” I rolled my eyes, “I wonder how’s the weather up there.”

Yunho suddenly laughed, pressing a palm against his lips as it was loud, “I haven’t heard that one in long.”

I just hummed and cast another glance at him, confused of our whole conversation and the situation we were in. To be fair, I was grateful for him, of course I was, but the shock still hadn’t worn off and I was still slightly thrown off by his demeanor and change of personality…and looks. We continued walking in silence, steps hurried as the wind started blowing harder and all I could think about was Yunho being cold and getting sick because of his choice of clothing. However, the quiet didn’t last for long around us as we heard approaching footsteps, it sounded like they were running towards us. Yunho and I looked back at the same time and I failed to notice the way his expression hardened and jaw set. Before I could react, a heavy arm was draped around my shoulders and I was pulled into a sturdy body, warmth wrapping around myself and a masculine scent. I looked up at Yunho flabbergasted before watching the running man again as he came to a stop a few feet away from us.

“Hey, Yunho—” He panted as he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, “Finally found you, man.”

Yunho said nothing as he watched the guy, strengthening his grip against my shoulder when I tried to move away. My eyebrows furrowed as I struggled for a bit more, until Yunho clicked his tongue and I looked up at him, feeling his gaze on me already. His eyes were sharp and dark and I gulped as I looked away, stilling in his grip when he looked back at the younger looking guy, “What do you want?”

His voice sounded nothing like the friendly person I have been just talking to, it was ice cold and it made me shiver.

“Yeah, uh,” The guy glanced at me reluctantly, “Cheol wants the money. Soon.”

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes as I looked at him curiously, wondering where this conversation was going, “I thought I have made myself clear already, Chan.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, alright?” The shorter guy scoffed and stood up straight, his eyes hardening as he looked at Yunho now with a slight glare, “You’ve been avoiding us for months now, Cheol is getting fed up…so is everyone else.”

“And I have a reason for that,” Yunho snapped, anger coating his voice, “which you all know of. If you want my money, do your fucking end of the deal for once.”

“Was the merch not good enough last time?” Chan raised an eyebrow. These two were acting like I wasn’t even there, so I tried to get out of Yunho’s grip again, but instead, he gripped my nape and roughly pushed my head into his chest, making me gasp. I clutched against the collar of his leather jacket and tried to pull away, but Yunho’s strength was immense, so, instead my cheek was mushed against his firm chest, his musky cologne invading my senses and making my head slightly dizzy.

“If it were good, you would’ve seen the money by now.” Yunho’s voice held no emotions and I watched as best as I could from my position as he reached with his right hand behind himself, moving at what looked like lightning speed to me, but with my vision obscured I wasn’t able to see what was in his hand, “Go back to Cheol and tell him to get his fucking act together before I take action.”

“Asshole.” I heard this Chan guy snap and then an unsettling silence followed. I bit my lower lip and wondered what was going on, and it didn’t take long to find out as he spoke up soon again, “Got yourself a shiny new toy?”

“She’s a person, not a toy, Chan. And she’s not mine.” Yunho’s voice was rough and my breath halted for a second as I felt Yunho’s fingers twitch against my skin. I moved my head slightly to look up at him and caught the quick glance he sent down at me. It was dark and emotionless, yet it held a clear warning that I needed to stay quiet. My heart skipped a beat involuntarily.

“You better claim her then, before Cheol gets his hands on her—”

“Get lost, right now.” I have never heard such a threatening tone from anyone before, and my blood froze over at the anger and sneer in Yunho’s voice as he grabbed onto the back of my head tightly, making me freeze as I heard the click of something. Was…was he holding a gun? I gasped quietly as my fingers dug harder into the fabric of Yunho’s jacket and I heard the Chan guy cackle before his footsteps stared fading away. Yunho, however, didn’t move and I was too scared to do so as I realized I had started shaking. Suddenly, my head was being pulled back by Yunho’s hand on my nape and we made eye contact as he looked down at me menacingly.

“Not a word to anyone.” I exhaled shakily and frantically nodded my head as I dared to take a glance at his other hand, which, to my horror, held a black gun. My blood ran cold as Yunho released me at the same time as he put his gun away, behind himself, probably in the belt of his jeans, “Let’s go.”

And the rest of the walk was silent and hurried as I almost ran to finally get home, confused and scared and needing a shit ton of answers to the questions swirling in my head, which Yunho was probably unwilling to give. I valued my life above all, and therefore I remained silent, besides, the anger oozing off of him was enough to shut me up despite my sparkling curiosity. Who the hell was Jeong Yunho?

The next day I did everything in me to forget about last night’s endeavors and about Jeong Yunho. I could act like nothing happened, like it was all just a dream. And everything was going well, until…until Yunho and I crossed paths in our university’s hallway. Well, we didn’t actually cross paths, but we saw each other briefly as I was walking with my best friend to class and Yunho was headed towards the stairs, the two of us on the two opposite ends of the long hallway. My friend was talking about the book she was currently reading and I would hum or nod along to her words, letting her know that I was paying attention despite being silent as we walked, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack. I nodded in agreement at her characterization of a character we both enjoyed from the book, when I finally looked ahead and my mind blanked. It certainly did feel like last night was a fever dream as Yunho stood on the other end of the hallway, black hair falling in soft curls against his forehead with his rainbow-colored sweater hanging loosely around his frame, big hands disappearing in the sleeves of it. His jeans were a faded grey and he was laughing as he talked to someone, eyes disappearing and cheeks puffed out. He looked nothing like the guy from last night and it gave me whiplash as his menacing and threatening eyes flashed before my eyes just as Yunho suddenly looked ahead, his eyes finding mine, looking at me with the warmest gaze anyone could muster up. I realized I was gaping, but I couldn’t help it when my brain convinced me that Jeong Yunho from right now and Jeong Yunho from last night weren’t the same person.

“Are you staring at Yunho right now?” My best friend’s voice finally snapped me out of my staring and I looked at her with the same wide eyes.

“I—yeah, but—” I needed to get it together, “That’s not Jeong Yunho.”

“Uh,” My friend looked at me like I had grown another head, “then who is he?”

“I don’t know, but—” I let out a long huff, eyebrows furrowing as I looked back at Yunho, “but that’s not the same guy from last night, I’m telling you.”

I could see the confusion on my friend’s face as she looked towards Yunho, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “He looks like—Yunho. I mean, what are we even talking about right now? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Stop it.” I snapped at her and pushed at her shoulder in frustration, making my friend glare at me, “He must have two personalities or something.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about someone, Y/N.” My friend chastised me and I groaned in frustration. Of course she wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see the Yunho I have. Coming to think of it…I don’t think anyone had from around here, seeing as everyone was flocking towards him and acting so freely with him. His laughter carried down the hallway and it was soft, his cheeks slightly rosy as a girl leaned too close to him and he averted his gaze shyly. He was void of all the accessories he had been wearing last night and his clothes were what I was used to seeing him wear on a daily basis. He kept shifting from one foot to another as a guy threw his arm around Yunho’s shoulders as the two giggled about something, Yunho covering his mouth before whispering something to him back with a cheeky smile. The image of him holding a gun suddenly flashed behind my eyes and I jumped, sucking in a sharp breath of air. My friend looked at me like I was crazy and I averted my eyes from Yunho, looking at her like I have seen a ghost.

“There’s something very wrong with that guy, I’m telling you.” I muttered as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, scared of facing Yunho after his weird personality shifts.

“You sound super crazy right now, bestie.” I rolled my eyes and huffed as my best friend taunted, cackling when she saw the discontentment on my face.

And the days passed just like that. Jeong Yunho, wearing every existing bright color, avoiding eye contact when he felt shy and hiding behind his hand when he laughed a little too hard. His cheeks had a flush to them constantly and he would carefully arrange his wavy bangs against his forehead. It was confusing. I was becoming convinced with each passing day that what had happened that night was just a fever dream, and that it was so real that my mind decided to believe it. Perhaps I was lucid dreaming or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Two weeks had gone by since my strange encounter with Yunho and I have finally come to terms with the fact that maybe what happened wasn’t even real. It couldn’t have been, not when Yunho didn’t even glance my way once. Not when he remained the bright and lovely popular boy and I…continued almost missing my deadlines, which meant I was coped up in the library currently, searching for the book I needed without having much luck in finding it. I was too lazy to ask the librarian as I would need to descend the stairs, so I instead grew more and more frustrated as I stomped around between the bookcases. I was surely disturbing someone, but I didn’t care. Eyes set on the books, one title caught my attention and I stopped, hoping that it was the book I needed. It was at eye level and I pulled it back just enough to be able to see the cover and title of it. I felt like banging my head against the shelf when I realized it wasn’t the book I needed, and with a very loud sigh/groan, I pushed it back harshly, almost screaming when a human head was casually leaning against the bookshelf next to the book I had just examined. My heart beat like crazy as I gaped at Yunho, his warm eyes twinkling with amusement as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. His baby pink shirt hugged his frame messily as the collar fell a little low, showing off the smooth skin of left shoulder, and his dark green cargo pants were an interesting choice to wear. Yeah, this was the Jeong Yunho I knew. Dressing quirky and looking almost like an oversized puppy as his lips were pushed into a pout. I couldn’t find any words to say so I just scrambled through my brain for something, pushing my hair behind my ears as Yunho continued staring. It was becoming too much, his gaze.

“What?” I managed to say, still at a loss and not knowing how I should approach him.

“Hi.” His lips suddenly pulled up into the brightest smile I had ever seen, and his eyes twinkled with so much warmth that I took a step back. I’m going crazy, aren’t I?

“Hi.” I willed myself to greet him back, taking another step back as Yunho took one towards me, smile still on his face. He didn’t say anything else as he proceeded to come closer and closer, making me chuckle nervously as I continued putting distance between the two of us, not for long though. My back soon ran into the bookshelf and I internally whined as it cut into my back sharply. Yunho came closer, caging me in between the bookshelf and his body, making my heart somersault as I looked up at him confused, but intrigued. He was still smiling, still looking as friendly as ever, still the bright and well-liked guy from our university. Suddenly, his arms raised and were placed on each side of my head, slightly above. Yunho went and leaned down a bit, crooking an eyebrow as my eyes widened and body shrunk against the hard shelf. His musky cologne wrapped around me once again, and the events of that night flashed before my eyes without a warning.

“What are you doing?!” I whispered, sounding panicked as Yunho looked almost confused by my reaction. Almost as if it didn’t make sense that I was reaction to him like this. But I had every reason to, I can’t be crazy.

“I’m looking for a book,” He said with a light tone, expression calm, “this is the medical section. You know I’m studying to become a doctor, right?”

“No.” My answer was instant; I had no idea what his major was. I only heard rumors about how great he is, not about what he does or studies here.

“Oh, now you know.” Yunho said surprised and looked above my head, grinning happily as he reached out. What the hell was happening?

“You’re majoring in architecture, right?” I nodded wordlessly, confused as to how he knew once again something about me. I never told him. Just like with my name.

“So, did the librarian tell you this too about me?” I asked, sounding a little accusatory, as I raised an eyebrow at Yunho. He chuckled and shook his head, looking down at me in amusement.

“Not quite, I figured it out when I saw you leaving class a good while ago.” Right. He saw me leaving class. Sure. My eyes narrowed at him and I licked my lips, about to slip away and go on my merry way as this whole interaction was weird and confusing, but as if Yunho read my mind, he stepped even closer, the front of our boots touching. I looked up at him alarmed, eyes widening as Yunho lowered one arm, holding a book.

“This is so weird,” I muttered to myself, feeling uncomfortable, “Is there something wrong with you?”

My question was quite offensive and I didn’t think it through before I said it out loud, but it didn’t seem to affect Yunho as he started giggling quietly, eyes becoming smaller as his cheeks flushed. How was this the same man from that night? Did he have a twin or something? Why would his name be Yunho too? Was he fucking around with me? Or did he just have multiple personalities?

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, angel.” My body tensed at the nickname and I watched as Yunho composed himself, and yet, the Yunho suddenly caging me against the shelf wasn’t the same Yunho from just a second ago. The friendliness and warmth slipped from his face as his eyes slightly narrowed, darkening as a smirk appeared on his lips instead of the cute smile he directed at everyone. My heart started beating faster as he bit his lower lip, leaning down even more to be eye level with me, making my breath catch in my throat, “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Something very wrong.” I managed to whisper as Yunho chuckled darkly, the knuckles of his free hand suddenly grazing against my cheek. I flinched, but didn’t pull away as his eyes ran over my face. The way his wavy hair fell in his eyes made them look sharper. He oozed danger and my mind screamed at me to high tail it out of there, yet my feet remained planted.

“There’s nothing wrong with someone who has a colorful personality, angel,” Yunho’s deep voice rang through my ears as he leaned in to whisper in my left ear, goosebumps erupting on my skin, “Have you told anyone about our encounter from that night?”

I quickly shook my head no and Yunho smirked, pulling back and gripping my chin tightly, yanking me forward and knocking the wind out of my lungs, “Good girl, keep doing that. I’m afraid something might happen to you if you decide to blabber on about it to someone.”

I shuddered as his piercing gaze kept me locked in, a whisper barely passing between my lips, “Like what?”

The sinister look which crossed Yunho’s face felt like a punch to my gut and I suddenly remembered the gun he owned. He’d shoot me. He’d kill me. Of course he would, something told me he wouldn’t hesitate or think twice about it.

“I would have to punish you—” He bit his lower lip as he paused for a second, making me realize I started shaking, “And not in the way I would love to.”

“Fuck.” I muttered, gripping his wrist and lightly pushing against it. His words were meant to be threatening, and they were, I was shaking after all…but his words also did something to me as my stomach twisted and body shivered, eyes subsequentially falling onto his red and plush lips. Yunho’s smirk widened and he leaned so incredibly close that I could feel his breath hitting my lips, his skin seemingly flawless from up close. My fingers closed around his wrist tighter as my back melted into the bookshelf behind me.

“Let’s keep it our little secret for now, angel.” His thumb swept against the skin of my chin, my face flaming at the motion, “And I shall reward you if you’re a good girl.”

“How?” I whispered, looking into Yunho’s dark eyes.

“You shall wait and see.” He winked and before I could think more about his words, he was gone just as quickly as he had come. I was left blinking confused at nothing and struggling to breathe regularly as Yunho’s warm, and big, hand left my skin burning where he had touched. What have I indirectly gotten myself involved into?

Things happened the same way like the first time after my strange encounter with Yunho in the library. He didn’t look my way, he didn’t acknowledge me, he didn’t speak to me for at least a good two weeks. It was weird, everything he was doing. I had so many unanswered questions, but I pushed them to the back of my mind and hoped that whatever weird thing going on between Yunho and I would stop for good now. I didn’t want to get tangled up in something which felt so unsure and dangerous. I still haven’t forgotten the gun Yunho owned nor the conversation between him and that Chan guy. Even a dumb person would’ve understood that there was something illegal, at least, going on between the two of them and I didn’t want to get involved. However, the radio silence didn’t last for long as it was another Thursday and I was closing up the small convenience store I was currently working at. I had the evening shift again; the clock was close to hitting midnight and it was snowing heavily outside. I sighed when I realized I would have to walk twenty minutes just to get home. There were no signs of snow half an hour ago, it came out of the blue and I watched as a group of teenagers ran past the convenience store laughing loudly and having a snowball fight. I couldn’t share their joy as I shrugged on my coat, the weather had been nice today, I thought it wouldn’t get cold and thus abandoned my thick winter jacket, which I came to regret now. I switched off the lights and braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door and instantly shuddered. There was a freezing chill in the air and it clung to my body as I quickly tightened the scarf around my neck, at least I had half a mind to bring one with myself. I struggled for a few seconds with the lock, it's been acting up for a while now but the owner didn’t bother to fix it, until I heard a click and pushed against the door, making sure I have truly locked it. I whirled around to stalk off towards the bus stop, with little hope that the last bus hadn’t went by already. However, I was quickly forced to stop by the sight in front of me. Yunho, painfully underdressed for the current weather, stood leaning against a black massive car. It was an SUV, a very expensive looking one.

“Evening, angel.” My jaw shouldn’t have almost hit the pavement, but I couldn’t help but gape at him. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Was that his car? How? Was he rich? Now that I come to think of it, I have no idea what Yunho does outside of university or the type of family he comes from. The sudden realization of knowing exactly nothing about him besides the persona he paints himself as was startling as a sly grin crossed Yunho’s features. It made my stomach flip.

“What are you doing?” I managed to ask, reluctantly walking closer to him. Yunho pushed his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket, which looked thicker than the one he wore on the night he had to save me from those two creeps. His jeans were ripped and black and a very tight, form fitting, white shirt clung onto his well-defined body. With a black baseball cap over his wavy hair he looked extremely handsome underneath the street light, I had to stop myself from letting my eyes wander all over his body once again.

“Saw how hard it started to snow,” Yunho spoke up casually, smirking when I stopped a few feet away from him, “Figured you might just take the shortcut again, so, I’m here to pick you up.”

“No, you’re not.” My answer rushed through my lips instantly and I looked at him startled, slightly taking a step back as Yunho pushed off his car, “I am perfectly capable of walking home and besides—I might still catch the last bus.”

“It went by while you were still locking up, angel, just accept my offer and stop being so stubborn.” Yunho sounded slightly irritated as he walked closer, head lowered so that I was able to see his eyes from this angle. They were narrowed and I gulped, realizing that he wasn’t playing nice nor would act goofy like at university, this was the weird and intimidating version of Yunho.

“Excuse me if I’m hesitant in accepting your offer, Yunho,” I snapped, slightly fed up with the constant whiplash this guy was giving me, “But I have no actual idea who you are and so far you’ve been acting like a stalker. You know my name, you know my major, you randomly show up when I’m in trouble and then you walk me home despite my complaints. You proceed to act completely different than the guy I’m used to seeing at university and you have strange conversations with weird people who are threatening you and are calling me yours like I’m simply just a piece to be put on display and you—you have a gun! And you’ve threatened someone with it. So, yeah, I don’t exactly want to get in your car for you to—drive me home? Or kill me. Or do something else to me.”

“If I wanted to do something to you or harm you I would’ve already done so, Y/N, I had plenty of chances for that.” My jaw hung open once again at Yunho’s instant reply, heart hammering at his admission. Is this seriously the only thing he’s taken from my rant? Which felt good to finally get off my chest, but it seemed to make no difference as Yunho shook his head lightly and suddenly invaded my personal space, taking me completely off-guard, “Who I am at university and who I am outside of it might seem like two completely different people to you, but it’s me. I’m not always happy, and goofy, and I’m not always in a good mood. I just don’t like showing the real me around people.”

“I am people, so what’s different?” I scoffed, glaring up at him, “We don’t even know each other so I don’t understand why you feel the need to drop your act around me.”

“Would you prefer me acting all fake, then?” Yunho’s tone was harsh and his face read displeasure as I allowed my eyes to soak in his expression. Would I prefer that? It was the Yunho I was accustomed to, but would I like that?

“I don’t know,” I managed to mutter out, averting my eyes when Yunho’s dark gaze became too much, “I guess I’m just used to that version of you and this—feels weird, perhaps scary.”

Yunho suddenly sighed and his shoulders slightly dropped as he looked up at the sky, his smooth skin glinting under the streetlamp, “I’m sorry if I scared you, that wasn’t my intention.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as Yunho looked at me again, our gazes connecting. He was sincere, his eyes were shinning with honesty and an almost innocent like gleam, just like the one I was used to seeing. I hummed wordlessly and looked away, feeling slightly more at ease in his presence. He just sighed quietly and I heard shuffling before I felt the weight of a big hand pressing against the top of my head. I looked up at Yunho wide eyed as he started patting my hair, almost as if he was flicking something out of it. The snowflakes, probably. My cheeks flamed at his action.

“Will you let me drive you home, then?” Yunho asked again, voice softer this time and features relaxed, “I don’t want you walking around late at night and in this weather.”

“Alright,” I gave in, clearing my throat as Yunho suddenly grinned widely, “But you should be worried more about yourself, you’re barely wearing anything.”

It made Yunho chuckle as he headed for the passenger seat’s side and opened the door for me. I muttered a small thank you as I carefully slid inside.

“I’m rarely ever cold.” Yunho said with a cheeky wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side. I allowed myself a quick check-out of the car, eyes widening when I saw the emblem on the wheel. I was sitting inside a Maserati Levante. Just how did Yunho afford this car? The seats were of black leather and it was definitely heated as I felt my body warm up quickly as the engine has been left on. Yunho grinned as he slid inside and quickly buckled his seatbelt, reminding me to do the same as he put on the blinker, signaling that he would drive off now. The car slowly started rolling, pulling away from the store as I gazed out the window, feeling slightly awkward that I was now enclosed in such a small space with Yunho. I took a quick peek at him and watched him gripping the steering wheel lazily, hair framing his face as tonight it wasn’t as wavy as usually. His eyes were set on the road and he licked his lips before glancing at me, making me quickly look back outside the window, hating the way my cheeks instantly flushed. And as we drove by the bus stop, my eyes widened when I spotted the bus which would’ve taken me home.

“You said the bus went by already!” I exclaimed and turned to look at Yunho slightly offended.

“Oh,” He hummed but by the smugness coating his face I knew he had lied on purpose, “my bad, thought I had seen your bus.”

I scoffed and shook my head, melting into the warm seat as I glared ahead, ignoring the fluttering feeling of butterflies in my stomach at the thought that Yunho only lied because he wanted to drive me home. Perhaps he wasn’t so awful at all times.

Despite me feeling like Yunho brushed over my outburst that night, he seemed to change a bit. He started gradually approaching me at university and even hung out with me during our shared lunch breaks. He also started stopping by the convenience store whenever he had free time and I soon came to know that he lived just a few blocks away from it. Which was a surprise because I have been assuming he lived in some fancy rich neighborhood due to the car he was driving. Nobody really seemed to question our suddenly blooming friendship, although I felt like we still had a long way to go, and Yunho also stopped being so mysterious. He still didn’t answer all of my questions and often changed the subject when I asked about that first night, so I stopped asking about it after a while. I figured that I might get him to tell me at some point, and if not, I could always start asking around. People loved to gossip and maybe they would know something about this Chan guy who had called Yunho a few times while we were hanging out, but he always declined his calls. Tonight was supposed to be a chill night, but my best friend decided that she has had enough of staying at home every Friday and thus dragged us to a house party not far from our university. It was a half an hour walk away from my flat, so we opted to walk and just grab a cab on our way back. The house was large and packed with people as we made our way inside and I sighed at the sight of so many familiar faces. Almost everyone from our university was here and I realized I was tricked into coming to a party organized for our university specifically. My best friend just giggled as I have her a glare, already hating the fact that I had to stay here for hours and hours as she was in the mood to party. The only savior I found at the moment was alcohol, so the two of us made our way into the kitchen, both grabbing some beer from the fridge. Apparently, my best friend knew the host of the party and got us invited easily.

“I really needed this.” My best friend said as she threw her head back, downing half of her beer in one go. I raised my eyebrows at her as I sipped on mine casually.

“I can see that.” I chuckled and allowed my eyes to wander around the kitchen, taking in the faces. A few people above our grade were gathered around the sink, laughing about something and pointing at something. I wasn’t further interested, so I averted my eyes and noticed two friends of Yunho’s. They were standing in the corner and laughing about something as the taller one had his phone out. My staring must’ve been insistent as he looked up and we made eye contact, a smile appearing on his lips. He smiled and waved as he called us over. Due to Yunho and I hanging out more often lately, he was quick to introduce me to his friend group. They were a nice bunch but a bit too energetic and happy for my liking. My best friend, however, was totally into their vibe and would beg me to hang out with them. It was fine, I knew she wanted to make some new friends and these guys were nice and…handsome.

“Hi!” Mingi was quick to greet us happily and I smiled at him, waving at Seonghwa as my best friend went and hugged him. The two seemed to click instantly, it was nice to see.

“Was it you who urged Sooyoung to come to this party?” I asked Mingi accusingly and he laughed as he looked down.

“It was actually her who gave us the idea of coming here tonight.” I hummed and threw a knowing look at my best friend as she didn’t bother focusing on Mingi and I, already wrapped up in a conversation with Seonghwa.

“I see, I should’ve known.” I chuckled and Mingi nodded while putting his phone away. It was a little unusual that these two were here without Yunho, but I didn’t question it. I knew he wasn’t a big fan of parties and besides, he didn’t tell me he would be coming. Therefore I didn’t expect to see him here.

“Did you finish your project?” I asked Mingi, remembering him complain about it two days ago. Mingi’s shoulder slumped and he started pouting as he stole my beer swiftly.

“Almost, I have to design the garden and then I’m done.” Mingi was a landscape architecture major and he was always busy with projects, barely out of the house if it wasn’t for Seonghwa and Yunho dragging him to places. He was quite dedicated to his work and it was admirable. Especially when I could barely find any inspiration to do my assignments. Whenever we shared a few of our classes I was amazed by his knowledge and drive to learn even more.

“That’s good, you’ve got this, Mingi.” I gave him an encouraging smile and he chuckled, looking at me knowingly.

“So, did you start your design?” I fake laughed and took a swing of my beer after taking it back from Mingi.

“You know me, I’ll do it two or three days before the deadline.”

“At this point I’m afraid you’ll fail.” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and I chuckled, shrugging.

“Don’t worry, I function best under pressure.” I saluted him mockingly and Mingi chuckled, soon our attention on Seonghwa as him and Sooyoung approached us.

“I really want to dance,” Seonghwa said, drunkenly gazing at Mingi, “Are you coming?”

Mingi just sighed but stood up, throwing an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, “Of course, I’m coming. Someone needs to make sure you don’t trip over your own legs.”

Sooyoung and I chuckled as we followed after the two boys despite me not being too fond of the idea. I didn’t feel like dancing tonight, but I didn’t want to leave Sooyoung alone, and besides, I could see it in Mingi’s eyes that he didn’t want to be alone with the two. Whatever was going on between them, which both were denying, was pretty obvious.

The music was loud in the bigger room compared to the kitchen and I looked around, realizing it must’ve been a sort of library hence the bookcases on both sides of the room were filled with books. My heart broke a bit for the books, I could only hope no one was stupid enough to damage them. Otherwise the room was cleared up and there was a table with a mixing console on it, the DJ standing behind it and playing trendy songs everyone seemed to enjoy. The bas thrummed against my chest and I downed my beer in one go before I pushed through the crowd, making way for myself and my friends. Somewhere in the middle we found a good spot and formed a circle starting to dance.

I couldn’t tell how much time passed before I needed to use the restroom, but just as I went to tell Mingi I would be leaving for a few minutes, he leaned in to tell me that he needed some air. And so, after telling Seonghwa and Sooyoung where we were headed, Mingi and I took off hand in hand towards the exit. We agreed on meeting in the kitchen in around ten minutes before heading back to our friends, and so we parted, going on our way. The bathroom was in the far back of the house and I was thankful as the music didn’t reach here, I could finally hear my thoughts. The air was gradually better too compared to the suffocating heath in the library like room. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long to make it inside the bathroom and I was quick in doing my business, washing my hands thoroughly before splashing some cold water on my face, tapping it against my flaming skin. Perhaps I should join Mingi outside for a second before grabbing another drink. I huffed and smoothed down the top of my hair, baby hairs all over the place, before I unlocked the door and left the quiet bathroom. The hallways had no lights but it was fine as the living room was well lit up and it poured out here too. There was a staircase leading upstairs, but it was barricaded off and I knew not to go upstairs even if I wanted to. Just as I went to walk past the staircase, someone collided into my shoulder, knocking me slightly backwards. I gasped in surprise and looked back, surprised to see a slightly familiar face. The guy was younger, and he quickly apologized before a look of recognition crossed his features. Despite it being almost two months ago, I remembered his name. Chan. The guy Yunho threatened with a gun. I gulped and accepted his apology, about to walk off when he spoke up again.

“Don’t I know you?” He asked with narrowed eyes and I cursed silently, facing him again.

“Uh, barely.” I offered with a small smile and Chan hummed, eyebrows furrowing.

“Weren’t you with Yunho once?” So he remembered too, huh.

“Chan, right?” I raised an eyebrow and suddenly the guy was grinning and extending his hand towards me to shake.

“Knew it,” He said with a chuckle as I reluctantly shook his hand, “I don’t know your name though.”

“It’s Y/N.” I introduced myself and Chan smiled, his grip lingering for a second longer than necessary. It unsettled me as I cleared my throat and very obviously made to leave, but Chan seemed like he wanted to talk a little bit more.

“I had no idea you knew Jeonghan.” My eyebrows raised at the name and I thought for a second until I realized he was the host.

“I don’t, my best friend does though.” I explained and Chan hummed, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“Now that I come to think of it,” He took a step forward and I willed myself to not move backwards, “Yunho never mentioned you again after that night.”

Oh, well…that didn’t feel nice to know. I thought we were sort of friends by now, but maybe Yunho needed more time. Our relationship dynamic was still weird and most of times I didn’t know where to put us, so maybe Yunho was feeling the same way. Or maybe there was something dangerous about this guy and Yunho just simply avoided talking about me in his presence. Our encounter that night felt almost fresh in my memories and I willed myself to not think about the gun pointed at this younger guy.

“He must have a reason, then.” I found myself answering with a cold smile, ready to excuse myself finally, “My friend is waiting for me—”

“Just because he doesn’t mention you doesn’t mean we don’t know about you, Y/N.” His sinister smile and cold tone sent a chill down my spine and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Chan, “Do you have a tattoo?”

That was a very random question, one that took me off guard as my eyebrows raised, “Uh, no, I—”

“What a pleasant sight, Lee Chan.” A sharp tone cut me off and I turned my head to see Yunho approaching us in all of his tall glory. His glare was sharp and body stiff as he came to a stop next to me, instantly pressing his warm palm against the small of my back. It made me straighten up slightly as I gazed at Yunho’s profile, surprised to see him here.

“Thought you weren’t coming, Yunho.” Chan said with a chuckle, eyes falling between the two of us and the non-existent space between our bodies as Yunho pressed up against me, his musky cologne invading my senses.

“Maybe you should check on your friend, Chan, he might be unable to walk for a week or two.” The dark smirk which crossed Yunho’s lips made me gulp, and I watched as Chan’s expression fell, suddenly it felt like we were back to that chilly night out on the street.

“You son of a bitch,” Chan hissed and marched up to Yunho, who didn’t even as a little as flinched, “What did you do to Hansol?”

“Nothing he won’t survive.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Yunho, who seemed to be unbothered by my piercing gaze. Chan hissed under his breath and with one lasting glare quickly stormed off, grabbing for his phone as he raced towards the front door. I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding just as Yunho faced me, and I took in his attire in surprise. His black long-sleeved blouse was tight and was unclasped down to his chest, blank ink peeking through from underneath on his left pectoral. His outfit was completed by black leather pants and his black hair, which fell messily against his forehead. I was snapped out of my staring the second I felt Yunho caging me in against the railing of the staircase, big palm still pressing against the small of my back, eyes very slowly dragging up from his exposed milky chest to his chocolate warm brown eyes, which were narrowed and carried a hint of frustration.

“What did he want?” His voice was low and it brought a flush to my cheeks as I looked up at him, suddenly all too aware of the lack of space between us.

“Nothing much.” I muttered with a shrug, but Yunho didn’t seem to believe me as he lowered his head, eyes boring into mine. His gaze made my skin crawl and my fingers twitched as I placed my hands behind my back, doing everything in me I could to focus on his eyes and not on his cherry red plush lips, which were too close to my face all of a sudden.

“Don’t lie to me.” His right knuckles grazed against the skin of my cheek and I gulped as something coiled in my stomach. Was I this transparent? He could read me so easily.

“He just asked if I have a tattoo or something.” I answered after a beat of silence and Yunho’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as I dared to peek at his chest again, the ink more visible because of his stance. The collar of his shirt fell lower and I could make out a thick line which went in a circle and the tip of a letter, perhaps A?

“And what did you say?” His forefinger was suddenly underneath my chin as he tipped my head back, pulling my eyes away from his chest. I blushed furiously because of the amusement in Yunho’s eyes and the wide smirk on his lips, I was caught staring. His voice was low and breathy and I bit my lower lip for a second, trying to ignore his proximity and scent as his head seemed to be even closer to mine right now.

“No—nothing,” I exhaled and licked my lips, “you got here when I was answering him.”

“Good girl.” My legs shouldn’t have almost given out at his praise, but my mind wasn’t clear anymore. Yunho’s scent and proximity were intoxicating and I sure as hell wasn’t drunk from one beer, but everything about Yunho made me feel like it. I don’t know when it happened, but I couldn’t pull my eyes off Yunho whenever we were hanging out. And when we were at university, I was just like the others, flocking towards his bright and warm aura, desperate for his attention at times. When it was just the two of us, I yearned for his warmth and dangerous eyes, often breathless when his voice dropped to chastise me for something. When we hung out with our circle of close friends, I wanted his undivided attention on myself only. I had come to realize that Jeong Yunho was insanely good-looking and his mysterious aura was nothing but a little spark which made him even more irresistible.

“Wanna get out of here?” I heard him asking once I was done daydreaming, “I know you don’t like parties.”

I nodded wordlessly and as Yunho slowly, without breaking eye contact, pulled away I almost chased after him, hands balling up into fists in order to prevent myself of doing something I might regret later. There wasn’t a label to our relationship, but friends certainly didn’t want to fuck each other, therefore I needed to keep myself in check and control my desires.

After letting our friends know that Yunho and I would be leaving we got our jackets and went up to Yunho’s car. It was slightly dirty, which made me wonder where he had been as he had a habit of keeping his car crystal clean, even just a speck of dust made him wash it. The car ride was quicker than I expected as we flew through the quiet city, lights blurring at the speed Yunho was driving. He wasn’t a reckless driver, but it seemed like he was eager to get home. I couldn’t blame him, there was nothing better than the feeling of finally reaching home after a long and tiring day. I could imagine Yunho’s had been the same after he texted me in the morning that he had some business outside of the city and wouldn’t attend his classes, therefore we wouldn’t meet up. It was a surprise that he even made it to the party. It wasn’t the first time Yunho and I hung out in his apartment, but it was the first time I had come here so late and without a real purpose. Usually we huddled together to study, Yunho’s determination finally rubbing off on me to do to my assignments in time or when our friend group wanted to hang out and have a chill night.

After Yunho and I got settled, he went and grabbed a bottle of red wine, saying he needed it after the day he had. I didn’t complain as I watched him from the couch, body turned around and eyes running all over his frame. The clothes he wore did an amazing job at showing off his forms and I couldn’t help it but linger on his shoulders and waist as he had his back to me, grabbing around his counter while he had the wine in front of him. He popped it open without much struggle and then poured some red wine in two glasses, putting the bottle away. I watched as he turned around and leaned his hips against the counter, crossing one arm over his chest as he grabbed a glass and raised it to his lips, closing his eyes. He took a small sniff of the beverage before taking a long sip, letting out a content sigh. The image shouldn’t have made the hairs on my skin stand, yet all I could do was watch and gulp, mind blank until Yunho’s dark eyes snapped open and he smiled. It was mischievous as he spoke up.

“Won’t you get yours?” He pointed at the second glass and I hummed, wondering whether I should mix beer and wine, but it’s been a few hours since I last had beer. Besides, I was feeling fine. It shouldn’t do any damage. So, I pushed off the couch and approached him carefully, feeling fidgety under his sharp gaze. His eyes followed my every step as I stopped next to him and grabbed the glass, copying him. I sniffed it before I took a careful sip of it, the sweet taste exploding in my mouth. I hummed and took a bigger sip, appreciative of its taste. Yunho was smiling as he sipped his, and we remained standing like that as I tried to find anything to look at which wasn’t Yunho. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was getting too much and I felt like I needed to break it, so I spoke up, “You never told me you had a tattoo.”

Yunho eyebrows slightly raised, almost surprised that I knew, until he glanced down at himself and chuckled, “Ah, I forgot this blouse was low cut.”

“It’s not low cut,” I snickered, “You’re just wearing it like that.”

“Are you saying I should button up?” He asked with a playful smirk and I just smiled while shrugging. If he did that perhaps I would stop staring, but I wasn’t about to say that to him.

“So…does it mean anything?” I asked nonchalantly, having now an excuse to look at his exposed chest as Yunho glanced down too. He remained silent as he looked up, eyes searching my face for a few seconds before he lowered his glass on the counter.

“Not one you’re expecting to hear.” He said lowly and I raised an eyebrow as he suddenly stepped closer, looking down at me with a serious expression and darkening eyes, “Do you want to know?”

I gulped and busied myself with the glass I had in my hand as I looked down at it, pursing my lips in thought. I was trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart but Yunho took away my only distraction as he took the glass from my hands and placed it on the counter next to his, now I was forced to look at him.

“I guess.” I muttered, hoping he couldn’t hear the shake of my voice. His scent was once again all around me and it was hard to focus on anything he was saying.

“But if I tell you…” He took a step forward, making me step back and collide into the counter, “and you tell anyone…”

My body tensed as he reached forward and pressed his thumb against my lower lip, eyes focused on my lips, “I will have to kill you, angel.”

I gulped as I shuddered, and Yunho lightly dragged my lower lip down, licking his lips as we looked at each other. His gaze was challenging and dark, lips about to break into a sneer as I was scared but intrigued, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“How can I know for sure?” Was he testing me? His voice dropped to an almost whisper and he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised almost mockingly, “You have a vengeful personality, who knows what you’ll blabber on about if I happen to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt me then.” I snapped and Yunho chuckled, but there was nothing amusing about it.

“Are you reckless or simply dumb?” He was taunting me and I didn’t like it. I grabbed his wrist and glared at him, pulling his hand back and thumb off my lips.

“That’s some nerve coming from someone who was everywhere I went and knows everything about me without actually knowing me.” Yunho’s lips pulled up into an amused grin at the way I snapped at him, nose scrunched in annoyance.

“I’m in a gang,” He stepped impossibly close and placed both hands on the counter on both sides of body, “A very dangerous gang, the tattoo is to signify where I belong to.”

I gulped, slightly thrown off. I was expecting many reasons to answer the enigma around Yunho, but I didn’t exactly envision him being involved into gang activities or the mafia, even. Was he just simply not saying? Wouldn’t be the first time he lied to me.

“Why did Chan ask if I have a tattoo?” My voice was hard and I tried not to shake when I felt Yunho’s large hands gripping my waist. His hold was firm, like he was afraid I would run away.

“Because,” Yunho licked his lips as he lowered his head so I didn’t have to crane my neck up so high, “if you’re mine you have to get the tattoo as well.”

“But I’m not yours.” I quickly said as I tried to process everything and ignore the way Yunho’s grip tightened around my hips and jaw clenched, “And I don’t want to have a tattoo.”

“Then you won’t have one,” Yunho’s tongue peeked out as he liked his lips swiftly, his eyes glued onto my lips, “But you are mine, Y/N.”

Before I could ask him since when, Yunho closed the gap between us and pressed his plush lips against mine. I didn’t mean to flinch, but it was unexpected and rough as his hands on my waist pushed me up onto the counter, easing the height difference a little between us. I kissed back when I felt him about to pull back, probably thrown off by my lack of response, and Yunho was quick to smash his lips against mine with a fever, setting a hasty and messy rhythm as my head was tilted back and arms circled around his shoulders. It was everything I have envisioned and yet nothing like it. His lips were plush and warm yet rough and relentless as he bit at my lower lip, almost as if he was trying to inhale the whole of me. His scent was the only thing I could smell around us and my brain was fogged up as Yunho’s lean body pressed into mine, pushing me flushed against himself by placing his hand on my back. My legs parted wider, making more space for Yunho as one of my hands traveled towards his hair, gripping at the black wavy strands firmly. His warmth was overwhelming and it made me breathless as his large hand wrapped around my neck as if he needed something to hold onto. My lungs were screaming for air and I pulled back once it got too much, lightheaded as I leaned forward, teeth attaching against the soft skin of Yunho’s neck. His chest was falling and rising rapidly, just as breathless as I was feeling, the hand from my neck traveling to my nape as I pressed open mouthed kisses against his skin, lips trailing down to his collarbone. Yunho groaned when I bit lightly at it, teasing and licking, before I was pulled back and forcefully met with lips against my own. It didn’t take long for Yunho to push his tongue against my lips, asking for permission. I opened up without hesitation, letting him take the lead as his wet tongue licked against mine, humming, the vibrations traveling through my whole body as I pulled on the smaller strands of his hair. Yunho tasted like the red wine he just had, sweet and so intoxicating that I couldn’t get enough of him. His tongue explored my mouth as my hips bucked against him and I wasn’t surprised to find him just as affected as I was feeling. I could feel him through his leather pants and the friction was much needed against my throbbing core as I grinded against him once again, catching his lower lip between my teeth as he went to pull back. Yunho’s eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them and his cheeks were lightly flushed as he grabbed my nape firmly, jaw clenching and lips plump from the kissing.

“Bedroom, right now.” His voice was raspy and it sent a chill down my spine as I quickly clung onto him, legs firm around his waist as he walked us to his bedroom, large hands holding me up by my ass and allowing me to grind against him as Yunho groaned and nipped at my lower lip until we were standing in his dark bedroom. He carefully lowered me and onto the ground and I was quick to get rid of my jeans and shirt, helping Yunho in undoing the zipper of his leather pants as he had gotten rid of his blouse. I allowed myself to stare unabashedly at his body, taking in his lean but muscular form as he towered over me, stomach well defined and thighs thick. It was a sight worthy for drooling and I snapped out of it when Yunho started walking me backwards, not expecting me to palm him through his boxers. He sucked in a harsh breath and allowed me to feel him up and massage him before I was pushed down onto the bed by my shoulders. I scooted back before he crawled towards me and leaned down to press kisses against my neck and shoulder, tongue flattening against the flush skin of my collarbones before he sucked hard at a patch of skin, making me groan at the sting. His kisses didn’t stop there as he kissed down between my breasts, biting at the skin before he continued, all the way down to my stomach. I was panting and itching to grip onto his hair, but his face was in front of mine in an instant and he kissed me breathless once again. My nails dug into his back as my hands roamed over it, mapping every flaw of his skin, soaking in his warmth. Before I could register it, his fingers were ghosting over my thigh and slowly itching closer to my panties. I groaned into his mouth as he yanked them down, eyes opened as Yunho pulled back just slightly, hot breath hitting my face as one finger slowly slipped inside my wet hole. I gasped at the feeling and Yunho groaned, lips pressing against my cheek as he pushed himself up by one hand near my head. He slowly started thrusting it in and out, making my eyebrows furrow as he dragged the movement out, not waiting long to add another long finger. I grabbed his arm as my toes curled and hips lifted off the soft cover of the bed, trying to meet his lazy thrusts. They weren’t enough and they made my skin burn as my other hand tangled into his hair.

“Please, Yunho,” I whispered out, moan choked back as his thumb pressed against my clit, stomach coiling at the added sensation, “Faster.”

His teeth bit into the skin of my jaw, not hard enough to leave a bruise as he slightly picked up his pace, fingers curling against my walls and making my back arch off the bed as he rubbed harsher and faster against my clit, fingers thrusting in and out. A knot was forming in my stomach as more sound left my lips, sharp exhales and broken moans as Yunho’s fingers reached the spot which made my back arch off the bed, my own hips picking up its pace as I chased for an orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” Yunho rasped in my ear, making me moan as his finger grazed the spot again, “you were so patient for me.”

“Yunho.” Our eyes connected and I pulled his head closer by the hand I had tangled in his hair, “Please—”

“Not yet.” He bit my lower lip as his hand stilled, making me whine as my walls clenched down against his fingers, every nerve in my body burning. I tried to move my hips despite it, but Yunho’s fingers quickly were pulled out from where I needed him most and I watched helplessly as he sat back, the tent in his boxers obvious. He proceeded to pull my panties all the way down before getting rid of his own boxers, pumping himself as his head fell back. I watched with hungry eyes as his size came as no surprise, matching the massivity of his body. He reached over my head, holding a package as he opened it, putting on the condom before he hovered over my body. For a second he didn’t move and my skin tingled in anticipation as I reached my arms around his shoulders, pulling his hot body against mine, whispering in his ear.

“Yunho, just fuck me already.” I didn’t expect him to moan and before I could blink, his tip was at my entrance, slowly pushing in. My mouth opened as I clenched my eyes shut, surprised at the burn as he stretched me out more and more as he slid inside. He was bigger than anyone I was with before and I needed a moment to adjust to his size as Yunho pressed kisses all over my face, biting my earlobe.

“You can’t tell anyone.” He said lowly, and despite our predicament I heard the threat in his words.

“Which part?” I questioned despite knowing what he was talking about, hand trailing down his smooth back.

“The gang part.” Yunho clarified, as if I needed it, lightly thrusting up. I gasped and gripped his sides, walls clenching around him, making him groan.

“I won’t, I won’t, just—” My voice broke off as he did the same again, smirk on his lips, “Move, please, Yunho.”

“As you wish, angel.” He whispered in my ear before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back inside, making me gasp loudly as I didn’t expect it. Yunho’s smirk stayed glued to his lips as he did it again, ripping a loud whine from between my lips, nails digging into his skin as he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm. It did no good but rile me up and make me reach around for anything to hold onto as my body flamed, walls clenching more around him, desperate for more friction. But Yunho seemed to enjoy the desperate state I was in as he chuckled, and suddenly, I felt his big hands bringing mine together, pushed above my head as he pinned my wrists together and pushed them down harshly into the mattress. He suddenly was moving, getting up onto his knees and sitting back as his right hand slipped under my lower back, guiding me up, lower back hovering in the air. Yunho only paused for a small second, eyes connecting with mine before he moved, sharp and clear, pace nothing like the slow one previously. I moaned loudly as he started rocking his hips harshly, pace relentless and dick reaching deeper than before, making my hands ball up into fists as I couldn’t hold onto anything with Yunho pinning them above my head. It didn’t take long for Yunho to get vocal, cursing under his breath as his eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip, pace picking up the louder my moans got. I couldn’t focus on anything else but the pleasure building up in my lower abdomen and the electricity coursing through my veins, mind wrapped up in the scent of Yunho, the feel of Yunho…Yunho.

“Yunho.” He was the only thing I could think about and at the desperation in my voice he got rougher, pistoning his hips at an unforgiving pace, making me cry out in pleasure as my hips thrusted up, chasing for an orgasm as I tried to meet Yunho’s frantic thrusts. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips firmly with both hands as he helped me move against him, my head thrown back at the constant ripples of pleasure as my fingers tangled into the sheets above head and twisted hard, moans of Yunho’s name tumbling through my lips. He was panting loudly and whines left his lips as I could feel him throbbing and I knew he was close like I was.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moaned out as my walls clenched down hard on his length, toes curling and mind completely fogged up with pleasure. The second his cold thumb started rubbing circles against my clit I saw stars and I came with a high-pitched moan of his name, Yunho’s hips stuttering before he guided my hips, riding out my orgasm just as he muttered a quiet fuck before he came too, groan low and guttural, movements never ceasing until it became too much and I whined, gripping his wrist in an attempt to ask him to stop as I haven’t managed to find my voice yet. Yunho groaned as his hips stuttered and slowly stopped, panting hard as he stared down at me. My eyes took him in before they stuck to the tattoo on his left pectoral. It was big. A big circle going around the letter A and cutting into it at the bottom. I shuddered as he slipped out and got off the bed, leaving my limp body on the bed to recover as my fingers tangled in my hair in an attempt to tame the wild strands. Yunho got rid of the used condom before he stood by the bed, towering over me. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he leaned down and tucked the covers away, effortlessly picking me up and slipping me underneath them. He got in next to me and pulled the soft covers over our bodies. I sighed in content at the warmth spreading over my naked body and nuzzled my nose into the pillow which smelled so much like Yunho. I felt him shift behind me before the front of his big body was pressed against my back, a hand coming around my body to hold me. I didn’t expect him to grip my neck firmly and push me back even more into himself as he slightly leaned over me. I was able to look at him from the corner of my eyes and I watched the menacing look on his face and the darkness in his chocolate brown eyes as he leaned close enough to be able to whisper.

“You don’t have to get a tattoo,” Despite his expression, his tone was soft, “but you’re mine and everyone else will know about it. I’ll make sure.”

I gulped as Yunho pressed a chaste kiss against my cheek before his long fingers slipped from my neck, making me realize I had been holding my breath. I released it shakily and felt him settle down behind me once again, nose pushing against my shoulder blade as his arm was firmly planted around my middle.

“Alright, let’s say I’m yours for now.” I found myself saying, but didn’t expect the chuckle from Yunho. I didn’t like being called nicknames nor being claimed like I was an object, but they didn’t sound so bad coming from Yunho’s mouth, they held no menace nor ulterior motives.

I didn’t know what this made us, but I knew I had one or two secrets to keep and that Yunho wasn’t letting me go nowhere from his sight.

⟨Part 2⟩

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