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#they only had the first two books but the yearning was real
fandomxo00 · 17 hours
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Ok but imagine:
Having a family with worst!Logan
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You held your newborn in your arms as you glanced around the room with a full feeling in your heart. You never thought that was going to be your reality, you thought that your long-standing crush on the wolverine died with him. Back then you were just too young for him, still much younger than your now husband. The two of you are closer in age, though it didn’t really matter. You would’ve loved Logan in every universe. This Logan was rougher around the edges, he claimed he was no hero, but in your book he was. He swooped in loving you unconditionally, without even trying or thinking he changed for you. But he never felt more like himself in your arms, with your two-year-old toddler in his lap while he sat at the dinner table with his found family.
As much as Wade got on Logan's nerves, he had given him a whole lot. You'd found Wade after years of being alone, having a run in with X-Men, where you had to flee. Deadpool was working with them at the time and wound up quitting that time because he wanted to besties with you. You found him ridiculously annoying, but he found you annoying too, the perfect pair of friends who annoyed the shit out of each other. You'd gotten on Logan's nerves as well but you grew on him in a different way than Wade had. He couldn't help but fall in love with you, giving in to you even though you were much younger than him. Logan knew about your past with this universes' Logan but he didn't care. After all the time you've had together, he knew your feeling for him were genuine.
Logan never thought he would have one kid, let alone three, four if you counted Wade. Though Laura was an adult now, she stayed at the flat once in a while to help out with your son, James. She was staying with you again when you gave birth to Anna. She was an amazing big sister, bonding with her father and you. Getting the family she had always wanted, even if it had taken awhile. Laura knew it wasn't because no one wanted to love her, they just didn't know where she was. Logan tried his best with her, having difficulty trying to be a good guy for her. Both you and Laura held him to a high standard, something you'd assume James would do to. Because even with Logan's faults, you could tell he was a good man from the second you met him.
Laura could tell the same thing, even when she was a little girl. Even though his grumpy, dickhead facade he cared deeply about others. It was funny, it was like more you frustrated or drove him crazy, the more he cared about you. Laura was wildly impulsive, something that Logan has had to bail her out of several times. He'd always show up with a stone-walled face, angry as shit, deadly silent before getting back to the house. Logan would ask her to explain, hearing her out before saying his peace.
With you it was different, the two of you bickered so much when you first met. But it was only because you wanted to get close with him, and he wanted to push you far far away. Logan already knew the risk of you having feelings for him if you had feelings for a different version of him. Your feelings for the worst Logan couldn't match the crush you had on the previous. Sure you were in love with him back then, but you couldn't have him. He didn't want you. This Logan did, he let you know how he felt even when he didn't want to. Logan only acted like he didn't want you even though he was yearning. Dreaming about you and thinking about you all the time. To a point that he could no longer resist you, giving in and loving you with all of him.
You gave him everything back, the two of you getting married and getting pregnant. Logan settling down and getting a job at the local lumber factory. Sometimes Logan didn't feel like the life he was living was real. But then you would touch him, seeing his ring on your finger, or when his son would speak to him, now the newest reminder in the form of his youngest daughter. He remembered his Rogue, a girl he'd protect over anything, naming his daughter after her. You were the one naming their son, James.
Logan held your toddler in his arms (instead of dogpool 😭), the boy playing his little action figures of the x-men. You gazed at your son, with the hair brown hair that stuck up, his hair almost mocking his fathers. Your daughter was nestled up to your chest, a binky in your mouth a small little furrow in her brow that reminded you of Logan's. You had a baby blanket made by Wade that she was wrapped in, her fresh baby smell filled your senses, comforting you. You've let others hold her for a little bit but your attached to her, having a c-section this time around. She was in the nicu for a short time, and you were feeling some postpartum depression after you got home. Being in an extreme amount of pain along with having a newborn and a toddler.
Your marriage had definitely been tested, Logan getting frustrated but coming through for you. Holding you through the pain and the fights the two of you had. It's been about a couple months, Anna seemed to grow every single day. You loved seeing your husband holding her, she was so tiny in his big arms. But she already looked so much like him, it warmed your heart. Logan was such a good father, his super hearing would aide him in taking care of the kids at night. His insomnia perfect for fatherhood and for you, taking care of you and then going to work in the morning. He worked so hard for your father, pushing himself and worrying himself silly.
Eventually forcing him to go to couple's therapy with you. The two of you growing closer as you opened up about things you usually wouldn't. Logan telling you more about his past world and everything that he'd been through. Why he felt unworthy of your love and having a family together. It wasn't that he didn't love you completely, because he was deathly in love with you. But you didn't want it to fade because he doesn't work on his mental health. Something you always struggle with but has progressively gotten better as you've aged. He was reluctant at first, because he thought therapy meant it was too late. But you said it doesn't have to get bad to work on it, there's no reason for your relationship to not get stronger. He usually didn't win arguments with you, because a lot of the time you were right.
And it was the reason why you were feeling so good after the last couple hard months. Coming out on the other side with a warm heart, feeling safe in your husbands' arms, feeling fulfilled with your little baby girl in your arms. Your family around you, enjoying each other's company. That night when everyone left, eventually you got the kiddos in the bath, and getting ready for bed. Tucking James into his room and finally putting Anna in her nursey at four months old. You and Logan still had to get up at night, but it was slowly getting better, as she grew bigger.
You finally stumbled into Logan's awaiting arms, tucking your head into his neck. His hands rubbing up and down your back, as you inhaled his familiar scent, making you melt into your husband's arms. Logan held you close, cradling your head with his other hand, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. Your hands came to his face, coming to either side of his face to connect your lips in a soft, messy kiss. Logan hummed into your lips, pulling you in closer by your hips, as his lips slowly moved with yours.
"Why don't you go take a shower?" Logan suggested, as you sighed, kissing him once again.
"Don't wanna let you go."
"I'll show ya a good time after how about that?" Logan teased, his hand coming to pat at your butt.
"You better." You rose your eyebrows, with a little smile on your face as you pointed at his chest before hooking your finger into his shirt and pulling him to your lips in puckered kiss, making you giggle.
tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1
note: these haven't edited tonight, i'm a writing roll so i'm just trying to write write write lmao
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About to start book three ❤️ 💕💖❣️💞🫀💚💛💙
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reidmarieprentiss · 27 days
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Textual Tension
Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension
Word count: 6.1k
a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful
main masterlist
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Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer
You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark. 
I've been thinking about you… Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way you’d make me moan… Let’s make fantasy a reality?
But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.
You’ve sent the message to Spencer.
Spencer.
Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who you’ve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.
The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didn’t actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer won’t read it and will simply delete it. But you know better—Spencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, he’ll read it. You’re absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.
Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book he’s been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming it’s just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.
His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person he’s admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way he’s secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.
Wow… I didn’t know you were into me like that. I’ve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.
The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. You’re completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You don’t respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.
The next day at work, you’re a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like you’re walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like it’s laced with the humiliation of last night’s mistake.
Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, he’s elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? He’s left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.
The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessity—quick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.
It started innocently enough. You’d look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. You’d never paid much attention before, but now you couldn’t help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.
Then, it was his forearms. You’d catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.
And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.
The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencer—sweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now… now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.
What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just… saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.
You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadn’t seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.
But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.
As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadn’t before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.
Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking this—maybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadn’t he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.
Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.
Hey, about that text… Maybe we should talk. Or… you know, not just talk. If you’re still interested.
You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.
The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldn’t stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.
I’m definitely interested. Let’s talk… or not just talk, whenever you’re ready.
The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.
Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.
Come over? Now?
The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clear—Spencer wasn’t just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.
Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like—showing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.
You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.
I'll be there in 20 minutes.
You parked outside Spencer’s apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—excitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.
As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.
When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartment’s light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.
For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t the Spencer you were used to—this was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.
And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad you came.”
You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like that—so effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticing—made it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.
“Hey,” you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. “You… uh, look different.”
Spencer’s smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. “Well I should hope so,” he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.
You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of him—a mix of something clean and masculine—filled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.
“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “About what was said...”
Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.
“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “But I also don’t want to pretend that nothing’s changed… because it has.”
He was right—everything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.
Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. “So… what happens next?”
Spencer’s lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. “I think that depends on what you want.”
His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.
With a boldness you hadn’t known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “I want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.”
The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencer’s smile turned into something more—something hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.
As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.
The world around you blurred as Spencer’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.
Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.
You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanor—this newfound confidence, this playful dominance—left you both intrigued and a little off-balance. You’d known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it.
As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot, Reid?”
Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. “No, not ever really,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.
“Call me Spencer,” he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasn’t just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had. 
Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real. 
“Spencer,” you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that you’d never imagined existed.
Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thought…” He trailed off, as if realizing that words weren’t enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.
Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else too—a careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.
For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didn’t move.
His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.”
The way he said it—his voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desire—made your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.
You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny him—or yourself.
“Ye—yes, please,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.
Spencer’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.
For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.
You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadn’t planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencer’s hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.
His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.
“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.
Spencer’s eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… how long I’ve wanted you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasn’t just lust in his voice—it was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.
He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.
You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardness—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Spencer’s hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.
“Tell me, Y/N…” His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. “Did you think about me too?”
The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
“I did,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after all—you had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasy—it was real.
Spencer’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.
“That text wasn’t for me though, was it?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something you’d never seen before—confident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.
You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadn’t expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he had—Spencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasn’t meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.
“Uh, no, it wasn’t,” you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lying—not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. “But I’m glad I sent it to you,” you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.
Spencer’s smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. “Maybe your subconscious wanted you to,” he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.
“Uh huh,” you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.
Spencer’s fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.
As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to be—where you were meant to be.
“Do you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?” Spencer’s teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.
“N–no, only at home,” you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.
He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. “But you didn’t put any on before coming over?” His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.
You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. “Are you–are you complaining?” you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.
Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not at all, although–” His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each other’s embrace.
“Oh my god, Spencer, just shut up,” you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Put your mouth to use.”
His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting for—passionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.
As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.
“Spencer,” you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.
He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, “You’re fucking delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”
As Spencer’s mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.
But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—how close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldn’t believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.
How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadn’t even known existed—a part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.
You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.
“Spencer,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving you—it was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.
The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.
As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.
And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.
With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.
As you came down from the high, Spencer’s hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.
You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, “I’m glad I’m here too, Spencer. So glad.”
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borathae · 26 days
Text
If I Was Your Boyfriend
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"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."
Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie
Wordcount: 10.5k
a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛
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The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.
“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.
“Kook, please help me.”
Jungkook sits up straight.
“Where are you? Are you safe?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”
“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.
“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”
“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”
“Yes. Hurry please.”
“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”
“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.
Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.
“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.
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You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this. 
But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.
The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.
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Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch. 
“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.
You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before. 
“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.
“Worse.”
“Worse?”
“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”
Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.
“What?” you stress.
“You give me a heart attack for that?”
“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”
Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”
“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.
God, Jungkook is so done for. 
“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.
“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.
Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this. 
“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.
“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”
“Maybe it’s already gone.”
“No, it was-” 
The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.
“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.
Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him. 
Act cool. Act cool. Act cool. 
He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head. 
“There, there you big baby”, he teases.
“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.
He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.
Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!
What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.
“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.
Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.
ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!
What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?
“Please kill it.”
“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.
Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. 
You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. 
“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.
“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”
He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up. 
Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.
“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.
You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?” 
“Perfect.” 
Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.
“Careful now”, you comment.
“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him. 
“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.
Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.
“Gotcha.”
“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”
Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.
“Dead.”
“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”
“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”
“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.
He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”
He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom. 
Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl. 
One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you. 
One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.
One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then. 
He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.
Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.
Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.  
Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.
Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right. 
He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.
You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.
“Is it gone?” you ask him.
“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”
“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”
He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”
“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”
“Yeah, I can drink that.”
Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.
“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”
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Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.
“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”
“That sounds traumatic.”
“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”
Jungkook laughs softly.
“What? Are you laughing at me?”
“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”
“I do. Awful things, seriously.”
He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.
“Why did you call me?”
“Why not?”
“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.
“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”
Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.
“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.
“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.
“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”
Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.
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Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him. 
“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.
“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.
You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.
“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.
“Working out.”
“Really? At this time?”
“That’s when I get energised.”
“Of course you do. What were you doing?”
“Just stuff on the floor.”
“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”
“Yeah and sit ups.”
“That’s cool.” 
He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.) 
He closes the cupboard and turns. 
“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares. 
“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”
He doesn’t want to leave.
“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.
Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.
“Really?”
He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.
“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.
His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer. 
“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.
“Yeah, please.”
Yay! Yay! Yay!
“I know I sound so stupid.”
“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”
You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.
He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.
“No bugs”, he comments.
“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”
You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.
You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow. 
“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”
“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”
“You’re seriously my hero.”
Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently. 
“Hey, check this out”, he says.
“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.
“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.
You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.
Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.
“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”
You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.
“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.
“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.
He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?
“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck. 
He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.” 
You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful. 
“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.
“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look. 
“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?
Your smile falls.
“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up. 
Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?
Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.
Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.
There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.
Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.
“What?”
“You uhm…”
“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”
His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.
“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.
“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.
“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.
“This is so embarrassing.”
“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”
“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.
“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”
“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.
Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.
“I think I should go”, he says.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s getting late.”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.
His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.
You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.
“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.
“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.
“What?”
You are both dragging out the inevitable. 
“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”
Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.
“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.
“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.
“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”
“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.
“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”
Should he do it? Should he be reckless?
You step back, now standing in your apartment.
Do it! Open, mouth!
“Text me once you’re home, okay?”
“Okay.”
No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!
“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Tell her! Fucking tell her!
The door closes.
Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.
Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.
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Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.
“Hello?” he picks up hastily.
“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”
The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.
“I’m so sorry, I…”
“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?” 
“Of course, what’s up?”
“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”
“No uhm, it’s fine.”
“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”
“Of course, I would. Today?”
“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”
You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.
“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!
“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”
“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”
“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”
“See you later. Good luck at work.” 
“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”
Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.
“Bye.” He says.
The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as  squeaky giggles. 
He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.
“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.
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You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.
Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him. 
You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.
And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.
Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome. 
His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you! 
He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.
“Hey there”, he says.
“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug. 
Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow. 
“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.
“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”
He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.
“Sunflowers? For me?”
“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”
“You did?”
You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.
“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”
“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.” 
“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”
“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?” 
You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.
“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”
“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”
“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”
“I can make them for you again.”
“Really?” 
He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”
“I should be free on Saturday.”
“Nice, then you’ll come over.”
You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning. 
A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running. 
“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.
“It was okay. Yours?”
“I woke up like two hours ago.”
You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”
“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.
“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”
“Is work stressful?”
“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”
“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”
You look at him. 
“I will, thank you.”
In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards. 
Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day. 
“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain. 
You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”
“Yes, it fits you really well.” 
“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.
Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again. 
You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable. 
“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”
“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!
“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.
“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”
“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice. 
“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”
“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.
“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned. 
There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.
“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.
“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”
He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.
“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”
“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket. 
Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you. 
“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”
“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.” 
He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never. 
He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.
“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.
“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”
He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.
“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”
He laughs, you do as well.
“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”
You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options. 
“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.
“Today?”
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”
“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.
Jungkook makes you laugh with it.
“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him. 
Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.
“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again. 
Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why. 
You grab the cart and push it.
“I think I have everything I need. You?”
“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.
You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.
“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.
“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”
“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.
“It’s fine. I have money.”
“But-”
“No buts. I’m paying.”
Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.
“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”
You chuckle, “deal.” 
You and he walk together.
“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”
“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”
“Why?”
Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish. 
“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”
“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”
Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat. 
“I guess am.”
You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush. 
Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling. 
The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.
You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.
He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.
“Yeah?” You look at him.
He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness. 
“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”
Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.
You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.
“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.
“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head. 
“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”
You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”
Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad. 
“Ah, I see.” He gulps.
“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.” 
Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.
“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.
“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”
“You have a boy?”
“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”
“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”
“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”
Jungkook bites back tears.
“I see.” 
“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”
No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No. 
“Please.”
Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.
“Please what?”
You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away. 
You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point. 
“Please what?” you repeat the question.
“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”
Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.
“Okay?”
“Mhm yeah.”
His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.
He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.
He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.
He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.
You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.
“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.
“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.
You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”
“It’s on me, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.
“What do you want?”
“I messed up before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”
“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”
“Don’t date other boys.”
“Excuse me?”
Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.
“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.
“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”
“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”
“Huh?”
“Ah no, wait.”  He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”
You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”
“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”
You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.
“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.
“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.
Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.
“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”
“Seriously?”
You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.  
“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.
“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.
“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”
Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.
“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.
“Yeah, you-”
“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”
Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.
“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”
“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”
“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”
“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”
Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?
“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”
“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.
“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.
“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.
Jungkook and you exchange a look. 
“No I…”
Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.
“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”
“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I’ll still fucking punch you.”
“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.
“Shut up, ___.”
“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.
“Or what?”
“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”
Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.
“What are you doing?” he asks confused.
“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might. 
Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving. 
“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”
Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.
Suho stumbles and whips around.
“You-”
Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”
Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.
“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.
Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.
“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”
“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.
“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”
“I mean, okay.”
Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.
A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.
“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.
“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”
“Would you have done it if you liked him?”
“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”
“What?!”
You look at Jungkook with big eyes.
“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.
Holy fuck. Suho was right.
He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.
“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“I’m scared”, you whisper.
“Scared of what?”
“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”
“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”
“What?”
Jungkook gulps. 
You touch his chest.
“Kook, what?”
“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”
“Are you serious?” 
Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”
“I’m just happy. So happy.”
“You are?”
“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.
He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.
“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.
He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.
“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.
“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.
Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.
“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.
“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”
You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.
“I’m happy.”
“I’m happy too.”
“Wow, I’m so happy.”
“Me too. So happy.”
You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.
“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”
“Yeah.”
You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”
“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”
“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”
“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.
“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”
He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.
“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.
“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.
“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”
“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”
You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”
You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”
“What’s wrong?”
“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.
“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.
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amuseoffyre · 1 year
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Oh! OHHHHHHH! AN EPIPHANY.
We've known for months about the official logo for S2. The two mermaids symbolising Ed, their hands forming his name, one the Blackbeard side, the other the Ed-side with the broken heart.
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But when I was watching the teaser for the [redacted] time, it was this shot that caught me and made me yell and remember things:
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OKAY. SO.
Season one had Stede's journey echoed in the story of Pinocchio. He reads from the book, there's the journey from being a puppet (controlled by the world and circumstances around him) to being a real boy. There's a gorgeous parallel between little Stede tied to the rowboat in terror and adult Stede who has cut all his strings in another rowboat, free at last.
Season two is Ed's story. But Ed isn't Pinocchio. Ed is the little mermaid and aaaaaa! I am rolling around in all the layers and layers of it that have been set up from S1 already.
The biggest thing is Ed giving up his metaphorical voice and going on land for the man he loves. He signed the act of grace and gave up the world where he had security, power and allies. Only Stede didn't come with him and aaaaaah the tragedy of the original little mermaid story is that the Prince who the mermaid sacrificed everything for didn't want her.
(also so much subtext for Hans Christian Andersen's yearning)
And it hit me tonight that Ed is on wedding ships and I had somehow forgotten that the big final arc of the Little Mermaid is that she is on the wedding ship. The man she loves is there, marrying someone else, and she has the choice of killing him and rejoining the world she knows or dying herself and aaaaaaa. I AM HAVING THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS.
I will leave you with this quote, which seems incredibly relevant given the first lines in the teaser:
She knew this was the last evening she should ever see the prince for whom she had forsaken her kindred and her home. She had given up her beautiful voice and suffered unheard-of pain daily for him, while he knew nothing of it. This was the last evening that she should breathe the same air with him or gaze on the starry sky and the deep sea.
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blackbleedingrose · 7 months
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Long Lost Morningstar - Part Two
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie
Genre: Fluff
Warning(s): minor cursing.
Notes: This is the second installment of LLM. This one will be going more in depth in (Y/N)'s life in Heaven and her relationship with Michael and Charlie. I will also be working on another Hazbin mini series (the one I mentioned in my last post) so part three will take a little longer - so, please, bare with me.
Words: 2215
"This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos".
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(Y/N) Demiugros have lived in Heaven her entire life among the archangels, seraphims, and winners (human souls who ascended into Heaven after they died).
She, herself, was a seraphim - one with very large and beautiful wings; six in total.
Her father, Michael, was one of Heaven's archangel's and one of the Seven Virtues. He was the one who had created her from stardust.
At least, those were the stories she's been told her whole life.
Though, it was strange. . .
Her father had crafted her in his likeness and yet the two couldn't be more different.
Not to say Michael was a complete stiff or was lacking any sense of humor - in fact, all of the archangels had their own strange quirks. (Y/N) loved being around them and often shared their humor.
The problem here was. . . her curiosity.
She was a naturally curious being and would often dream of things most of Heaven would frown upon - like six-winged ducks.
As a child her curiosity would sometimes get the better of her and she would try to venture beyond the archangel's castle (where she lived with Michael and the other archangels).
Of course, Michael was always there to stop her from wandering too far.
It became evident that (Y/N)'s curiosity and wonderous spirit would only get worse if he didn't stop it right there and then.
He didn't want her to end up like her real parents.
What (Y/N) didn't know was that almost everything she has ever known was a complete lie.
Or that Michael was not her real father/parent.
That title rightfully belonged to Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar.
But, of course, no one who knew ever planned on telling her; so, instead they twisted the truth.
Michael told her all about what Lucifer and Lilith had done and how the two brought evil into humanity. An act that got them a one-way dropped elevator ride straight to Hell.
Obviously leaving out the part where Lucifer and Lilith were her real parents, and instead told her they were her estranged uncle and aunt.
He had hoped telling her this would stifle her growing curiosity and wandering enough to keep her out of trouble and from ending up exactly where his twin brother and his lover had all those years ago.
It also helped that ever since Lucifer and Lilith's trial, Heaven has been cracking down on teaching their residents obedience and the consequences of straying too far.
And for a long time it worked.
(Y/N) was one of Heaven's top students and a role model seraphim to all angels alike.
On the outside she was grace, obedience, and perfection personified - just as she was taught and just as Heaven wanted.
But on the inside, she was still that curious and wonderous spirit who would secretly write her dreams in a private journal she had to hide away in a pocket dimension with her magic.
(Y/N) yearned to venture outside of Heaven and explore all the different realms to see what they had to offer. Like the ones she's read from the books in Heaven's restricted section that she may or may not break into in the dead of night (she's a sneaky little sneaker :P).
Tales of archons, unique planets, and realms with distorted human desires would fill her head - her heart yearning to one day travel to those places herself.
But for now, her life was in Heaven as a role model seraphim whose curiosity and wandering was kept in check.
. . . Until she caught wind of the Princess of Hell's meeting by her fellow seraphim, Emily, during their weekly hangout.
(Y/N) was aware Lucifer and Lilith had a child born in Hell, but she never expected her demon cousin would ever be granted permission to enter Heaven.
She couldn't help but wonder what her cousin wanted with Heaven.
Whatever it was, it was big enough to warrant a whole trial with the Head Seraphim, Sera.
Oh, no - there goes her curiosity.
(Y/N) knew her father would frown upon her interacting with the daughter of the ones who damned humanity. . . but she couldn't help it! She really wanted to meet her cousin and see what she was like.
Maybe people in Hell weren't as bad as Heaven made them out to be.
Luckily for her, Emily was quite the chatterbox and told her all about how she and Sera were going to give a tour to the Princess of Hell and her partner, the hotel they were staying at, and the exact room number.
Before she went on her way, (Y/N) managed to get one of her doting simps friends to cover for her and her duties to avoid raising suspicion.
When Emily and Sera had finished talking to Heaven's demon guests and brought them to their hotel room, (Y/N) was hidden away in the hallway waiting until they left.
As soon as she was sure Sera and Emily were gone, (Y/N) quickly rushed to the door.
She silently psyched herself up before knocking.
Charlie and Vaggie, who were skeptical to hear a knock so fast, hesitantly opened the door.
"Uh. . . Hello?".
When Charlie opened the door she definitely wasn't expecting to see a very tall angel with long blonde hair, purple eyes, red cheek circle's, and a big smile on her pale face standing outside. For a moment Charlie could have sworn she was almost looking at her mother.
"Hello! You must be Charlie and Vaggie! Emily's told me all about you - well, the only things that she knew before meeting you. Haven't had the chance to ask her about you after meeting you, but since I'm here now I might as well as you yourselves!".
(Y/N) snapped out of her trailing thoughts and rambling, "Oh, shit! My bad! I got a little carried away and forgot to introduce myself. Sorry. My name is (Y/N). I'm a seraphim. It's so nice to finally meet you!"
Charlie and Vaggie had to recover from the whiplash of the seraphim's personality and onslaught of words. Not wanting to offend her and mess up her chance before the trial, Charlie invited (Y/N) inside. (Y/N) eagerly accepted and walked into the room admiring it - she's never been in a hotel before.
"So. . . why are you here?" Vaggie asked rather rudely suspicious of why a random seraphim would go out of their way to talk to people from Hell. "Vaggie!" Charlie whisper-yelled afraid she offended a potential high authority in Heaven.
"Oh, well, I was hoping to get a chance to meet you both. When Emily told me about how the Princess of Hell wanted a meeting in Heaven about her hotel to redeem sinners, I'll admit my curiosity was peaked and I knew I had to see who you were in person".
Charlie gasped, her eyes shining, "Does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate demons?!". Vaggie glared at the angelic being, "Why would a seraphim care to meet people like us?".
(Y/N) gave the two a gentle smile, "Well, I tend to be a naturally curious individual - which I'm sure you can imagine isn't something Heaven is too fond of. As for redeeming sinners - I'm not sure. Personally, I would love to see souls in Hell given the chance to be redeemed and enter Heaven. Especially the ones who truly do not deserve eternal damnation. Which is why I'm excited to see how your trial ends. Hopefully you have evidence to prove your hotel works. I mean, if the Princess of Hell is willing to vouch and put in the effort on giving sinners a better chance at an afterlife in paradise, then maybe not all demons are bad after all".
Charlie and Vaggie were awestruck. Sure, Emily was really nice but (Y/N) was the first angel to actually be willing to give them a chance. Charlie had tears in her eyes, "D-Do you really believe that?". (Y/N) smiled and laid her hand on Charlie's, "I do".
Charlie and Vaggie smiled at the seraphim. It was nice to see that there was one angel here in Heaven who wasn't going to shut them down right away - someone who genuinely supported their cause.
The three chatted some more - mainly Charlie and (Y/N) with Vaggie chiming in from time to time. Now that the three got more comfortable with each other, the conversation was going a lot smoother. Despite just meeting one another, Charlie and (Y/N) felt like they've known each other for years.
"So, what do you do here in Heaven?" Charlie asked (Y/N). "Oh! Well, I sometimes help the archangels with their duties, but I mainly work in court trials", (Y/N) answered. Charlie's eyes lit up, "Court trials?".
(Y/N) immediately caught on. She shook her head, "Oh, no. Not in the actual trials; that's for the higher seraphims. In this case, Sera and Emily. I'm just a stenographer and record keeper. I help keep and maintain the court records and sometimes record the trials in person".
Vaggie raised a brow, "A seraphim as a stenographer?". (Y/N) nodded, "It's actually a very important job. . . but, I won't lie and say it was my first choice for a job. It was my father's idea. His way of keeping me busy, entertained, and out of trouble".
Charlie blinked, "Oh! Who's your father?". (Y/N) bit her lip nervous, "This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos". Charlie and Vaggie's jaws dropped.
"Archangel Michael?! A-As in my dad's twin brother?!".
(Y/N) nodded fiddling nervously with her hands. Charlie did a double take, "Woah, woah! Wait! Then doesn't that make us-" "Cousins," (Y/N) confirmed. Charlie gasped placing her hands on her cheeks, "OMG! That's amazing!". (Y/N) smiled in relief, "Yeah. I guess it is".
"Who's your mom?" Charlie asked eagerly. "Oh, I don't have one," (Y/N) said rather casually. This made Charlie and Vaggie feel a bit bad, "Oh".
(Y/N) waved her hands, "Oh, it's not like that! I've never had one! You see most angels are typically created here in Heaven using stardust, which is how my father created me. He used his likeness and the female reference of Lilith - your mother. And thus, I was born".
"Oooh - that makes so much sense! Now, I understand why you look so familiar!" Charlie smiled at her newly found relative. She couldn't believe she had a cousin in Heaven. One so kind and beautiful.
(Y/N) was relieved at how fast Charlie accepted her. She was worried she might not be too fond of having an angelic relative.
Vaggie was a bit nervous to discover that (Y/N) was the daughter of a higher ranking angel, but it quickly went away when she saw how happy her and Charlie were talking to each other.
She's only known (Y/N) for a short while, but she truly believed the seraphim had no ill intentions towards them and genuinely wanted to get to know them.
In fact, (Y/N)'s personality reminded her a little of Charlie.
(Y/N) admired her cousin for her big heart and the confidence she had in her own dreams. She was ashamed to admit she was a little envious.
How she wished she could act on her dreams like her little cousin; but, Heaven would never allow it. Her father always had to remind her not to stray too far, or she might end up just like her uncle and aunt. . . Fallen.
This was why she had to always keep up appearances when she was in public. No one other than those closest to her knew of the dorky, cheerful, and quirky side of her personality. To everyone else she was poised, graceful, and elegant.
When Charlie had asked her about her dreams (Y/N) told her seraphims weren't allowed to dream, or at least have dreams that would go against Heaven's rules.
Despite trying to hide how much that bothered her, Charlie and Vaggie noticed the small shift in her behavior. They felt bad for her wishing Heaven could be more open minded.
(Y/N) quickly waved it off claiming she was okay and that she was used it. She understood her father just wanted to keep her safe and out of trouble.
Soon it was time for (Y/N) to go to avoid making her father suspicious of her whereabouts.
Before she left she and Charlie shared a tight loving hug. (Y/N) wished her good luck in her trial and that she would be rooting for her.
Hearing her cousin support her dream and wish her luck made Charlie feel a lot better about the trial.
Being around (Y/N) made her feel comfortable and safe. She felt familiar, which now makes sense seeing as the two were family.
Her dad couldn't be here, so it felt good knowing there was someone in her family here in Heaven who believed in her.
With those thoughts in mind, she was ready for the trial and positive she would change Heaven's mind and prove the hotel's credibility.
. . . Too bad things sometimes don't go as we hoped.
Taglist:
@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18
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gazorninplat · 6 months
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As much as I love Disco Elysium, I think I was not prepared for Sacred and Terrible Air. Of course, I was expecting to know more about the world of Elysium as a whole, and Robert Kurvitz is a very good writer, but the thesis of the novel (and how it makes its points) flash-banged me.
Disco Elysium this is not, and it wasn’t supposed to be, but I think I can understand better now what the team at ZA/UM was getting at with this specific setting, and these specific narrative angles. Kinda messy, because it’s been a week since I finished it, but here are some things I’d like to highlight: 
1. The pedophilia. I surely wasn’t expecting this to be such a central theme of the novel, but a lot of its main points revolve around it. The most interesting use of this, as a narrative device, is how the girlfriend of Jesper basically accuses him of being a pedophile because he cannot relate to the adults around him. He’s still obsessed with a girl he met when he was 13 years old, and fetishizes a scrunchie he stole from her bag two decades ago. Yeah, I guess Jesper, well into his thirties, is still in love with a 13 year old girl. His girlfriend is almost half his age, and they started dating when she was 15 years old and a lingerie model (!). Zigi mentions how pedophilia was a bougie disease, and well… That idea went right into my thought cabinet (I call it “Bougie Babies for Sale).
Still processing it.
Now, let’s go back to the rest of the main characters. With all this in mind, a pedophilic overtone covers their interest in these four missing girls, but Jasper is the only one who acts on it, sort of. Khan remains in a sort of arrested development (he still uses a shirt he had when he was 13), foregoing normal adult relationships, and Tereesz joins the police as an investigator with the idea of still finding them some day (essentially letting these eternally prepubescent girls define his entire existence), leading him to a very dark path. I wonder if the brutality they afford to the “actual” pedophiles in the story (Vidkun Hird and the Linoleum Salesman) comes from the realization that they are not that different?
2. Obviously, though, this fetishization of the Lund sisters is also a fetishization of the past. The novel states it in the first few pages; they disappeared twenty years ago, in a time that most conservative people remember as the “good old days”. Basically their version of the American Fifties. Now, being obsessed with the past is a running theme in both SaTA and DE, but the angle here is different.
I already said it: the past is not remembered, is fetishized with an almost sexual yearning by a lot of the male characters of the book. They want to be consumed by it (and lucky them! It will) and do nothing more than serve it. It reminds me of a poem by Yamil Nardil Sadek, which, translated to the best of my ability, goes like: 
She awaits me
sitting on the bed,
wearing leather,
and armed to the teeth,
the Memory.
Yeah, that sums up Sacred and Terrible Air pretty well. Everyone is being consumed by the past, bite by bite, and enjoying it. Vidkun Hird, by the mythologized version of his tribe’s history; Sarjan Ambartsumjan, by a miniature ship model that requires constant, devoted thought or else it will disappear, the three main characters by the memory of that summer with the Lund girls. Even the Linoleum Salesman is being haunted and consumed, of sorts, by his sickness and dementia that only sometimes let him take a peek of the past. Beyond that, there are very few characters that do not spend time being followed by relentless ghosts. Literally, in the case of Zigi. Which brings me to…
3. The Pale. It was a really cool concept in Disco Elysium, and it’s an existential nightmare in Sacred and Terrible Air. It always was, really. But here it lets you take a look into it in a way that’s applicable in real life. The Pale is a metaphor for many things, but actually for a single one: A world where our current Capitalist reality facilitates both apathy and yearning for better days, often idealized in our collective pasts.
My favorite scene, one that was incredibly puzzling but so obvious in retrospect, is a beautiful speech by the ghost (?) of Ignus Nilsen to Zigi. I will just paste it here:
“I said terrible things, yes! I stood on a white horse, in a blizzard, and gave speeches. In the mountains, on the construction site… I swung my sword, with silver sunbeams on the hilt. And all around me fluttered white flags, crests of crowned horns made with silver thread, a pentagon between the prongs of the horns, the branches raised to heaven. Everyone who came here with me became happy, Zigi! Communism is powerful! Believe in Communism, it’s a burst of enthusiasm! I promise! It’s beautiful when you believe in a person, but without it…!”
“Without it, there is nothing.”
“Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!” 
The Pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut.
The fucking Pale recedes with talk of Communism! At first it might appear a little heavy handed (yeah, Communism, by itself, could save the world). But then I got into how Communism could be a solution to the antipathy and chronic nostalgia that sustain Capitalism, and then it hit me. Nilsen, a literal ghost from the past, is talking about a future that could have been. That he wanted to accomplish. That people, probably, can still achieve. The Pale is not eternal, it can be pushed back. Because the Pale seems to subsist on the past, it abhors any talk of the future. A better future. That’s how we solve things, and for a central thesis, is not bad at all.
With that being said, and because I’m just rambling here while pretending I’m working, there are also some things that I just didn’t understand, but maybe it was because of the translation. The original novel is written in a very poetic style, and some of that is still here, but I still need to untangle…
1. The Man. It is said that the day the Lund girls disappeared, they were joined by a mysterious Man that nobody seemed to remember correctly. A character even suspects that she was remembering wrong. Now, the Pale erases people and memories retroactively, so maybe it had something to do with it, but… Who was that? Is there any theory about that Man, or I just missed something? Some scenes and narrations were tough to parse for me (my primary language is not English).
2. Was Malin Lund pregnant? That flash with the fetus was sudden and weird.
3. What was the significance of the three meat piroshkis? They mention that it was unusual that the girls bought them (and if you do the math, you can realize early on that they were not planning to get back home. That purchase didn’t leave them enough money for the bus fare back), but that’s it. Were they for the Man? Also, the narration mentions that Lund girls’ picnic basket contained “the kind of things girls like to eat”, so maybe they were planning to see the boys and bring them the kind of things boys eat? I’m overthinking that? The chapter actually titled “Three Meat Piroshkis” just left me even more confused.
4. I don’t understand how Khan’s pen works at all. The one he brought to the school reunion. That was the part I re-read the most. Anyway, even with that, I loved Sacred and Terrible Air. Definitely one of the most enthralling reads I had, with or without the background of Disco Elysium. I’d still like an official translation that could potentially solve the issues I had, but for now, a Top 10 Book for me.
Go for it now.
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frost-queen · 10 months
Text
The moment I knew // part 7 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya
Summary: The social season goes on continuing with another ball. Yet this ball holds some surprises. Will it make a change for the better? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10 ]
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Tewkesbury tapped his finger mindlessly against the hard glass. His mind somewhere else, vision unclear. The upmost bored expression on his face. He heard his grandmother tsk loud for him to change his posture. – “Sit up straight boy!” – she called out as the carriage took a turn, riding on a gravely road. When Tewkesbury wouldn’t move she revealed her fan, giving him a hard slap against the hand with it.
“Au!” – Tewkesbury snapped awake, startled by the sudden whip on his fingers. His grandmother hummed loudly with a glance that it was his own fault. He exhaled deep rubbing his poor fingers. He straightened his posture, leaning back against the fabric as the carriage toggled a bit. His grandmother gave him a look for off judgement. Tsking her tongue again.
Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly knowing she just had a comment burning on her tongue. – “It’s the third ball already. When are you going to show any REAL interest in a young woman.” – she emphasized on the matter of real. – “I sure hope you don’t thinking to form an alliance with that wild girl.”
Tewkesbury knew she was referring to Enola. – “She was quite nice to return my child back to me, but good heavens her features aren’t standard. She has a heart too wild. Marrying a girl like that will only give you trouble, I’ll give you that.” – she spoke glancing out of the window. The skies light dimming out. A greyness colouring all that was bright away for the night to take over.
Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window. Watching the street lights being lighted up with their bright fires. Two men standing on a ladder to give the lantern light. A couple walking arm in arm just passing them by. – “What about the season’s diamond? She isn’t the fairest…” – his grandmother brushed her skirt with her gloves.
“Whatever possessed the queen to chose her. No foul words to her majesty.” – she quickly added as if speaking ill of the queen would cause her harm. – “Yet, she would be a good match. Marrying the season’s diamond always hyphen’s up once’s status.”
Tewkesbury sighed deep as a sign of protest. He wasn’t at all interested in the season’s diamond. There was only one calling his heart, yet she no longer wishes to commit herself to him. Perhaps it was partly his fault. He still didn’t know what possessed him that faithful night at the first ball. He had been exciting all day eager to see you again. A year. An entire year he hadn’t seen you. Only making him yearn for your presence more. It was nice to have you around. His feelings still a bit unclear at that moment. In the beginning it was merely out of boredom.
That was how it all started at the opera. The moment he found a willingly victim to laugh with him. To make the dreadful opera bearable. At first he teased a lot. Playing in on the signals you were sending him. A young girl gushing over a boy. Probably the first boy around her age she had met. As girls at that age were, falling hopelessly in love with each boy that flashed them a smile. Then he started to get to know you better. See more sides of you.
It was perhaps then that he had already started to fall for you, yet it wasn’t known to him yet. A bundle of feelings he couldn’t name yet, tumbling in his stomach. Spiralling and tumbling. It became clear to him the moment you returned the acorn to him. That stupid thing he foolishly had given to you in exchange for his ring. His father’s ring he should’ve never parted from.
Holding the acorn in his hand and watching you dance with someone else made him realize what he was losing. How much nights he had wasted with not being near you. It had created a drift between the two of you. – “No foolish sauntering this time. I expect you to be married off by the end of the season. It is my dying wish.” – she had clasped her hands together, looking up to the ceiling. Tewkesbury scoffed silently.
“To have me out of the house.” – he mumbled to himself. – “What was that boy?” – she snapped at him. – “Nothing grandmother.” – he responded quickly avoiding her stern eyes. – “Thought so.” – she flapped out needing to have the last word. Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window again seeing how much the sky had darkened already. The blinding estate of the next ball coming up in sight.
You had followed your siblings inside. Hand on Anthony’s arm. He sighed loud upon entering. You quirked your lips teasingly up. – “Oh how dreadful it is.” – you acted out dramatically with the back of your hand against your forehead. Your little act made Anthony look at you, puzzled. – “Another ball I have to keep my sisters save from. God forbid they find a match and leave from under my wings.” – you added sounding as silly as you could.
Anthony stared in shock at you as Francesca laughed loud. – “It isn’t funny.” – Anthony told you sternly. It made you press your lips together to withhold yourself from laughing at him. – “Oh come on Anthony.” – Benedict pitched in grabbing him by the shoulder. – “I thought Y/n did a great performance of you.” – he chuckled afterwards squeezing his fingers in Anthony’s shoulder. You let go of him arm, standing in front of him to curtsy as if being applauded.
Anthony brushed Benedict’s hand off him with annoyance. – “Poor Anthony being so teased by his younger siblings.” – Colin interfered wanting to have a say in it. Anthony turned to look at Mother. Violet tried her best to hide her smile, yet failed miserably. To Anthony’s annoyance as he stormed off. – “Oh Anthony don’t be so… it was a mere tease.” – Violet called out going after him.
Benedict came to your side, holding his palm up to you. You pressed your palm against him, snickering at your own tease. Arms locked in you followed mother who tried to reach Anthony. Anthony took halt by a set of vases. Half filled with flowers and peacock feathers. Francesca came running up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. – “You are so easily teased.” – she said with a smile. Anthony looked up to the ceiling not wanting to give in, but when you joined her.
Wrapping your arms around him at his other side, he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. Holding both of you for a warmful hug. The moment was ruined when Benedict decided to join in from behind, giving him a good squeeze. Nearly making him fall forwards. He nudged his elbow back at Benedict to get him off his back. Benedict let go of him, winking at you. Benedict stretched out making Anthony roll his eyes at him.
“I thought you had learned manner yet.” – Anthony spoke. Benedict lowered his arms from stretching up. – “Oh brother you must know me.” – he chuckled out giving him a hard slap against his back. A gentleman came over around Colin’s age. He invited him for a game of cards. Colin accepted dragging Benedict with him.
You stood with Francesca and mama, watching the dancers. A girl you had met before once came running over. – “They have peacocks in the garden!” – she called out unable to control her enthusiasm. Francesca and you looked at each other with delight and shock. – “Girls!” – Mama called out the moment the two of you started to run. Wanting to get to the gardens and see a peacock for real. – “Oh I wish it would open it’s feathers.” – Francesca huffed out pressing herself between people to get across.
Holding onto her hand tightly, you were behind her, trying to squeeze through those your sister just went passed. You were near the glass doors that lead up to the stone pedestal with steps downwards into the gardens. Many people wished to gaze upon the peacocks to be found in the garden. Francesca and you came to a brief halt as you locked eyes with a certain girl on your right.
The one who had danced with Tewkesbury. Her expression neutral. She went on going through the glass doors as Francesca followed taking the doors on the left. You had remained still, allowing your hand to slip out of hers as she got swept up in the crowd. Somehow the moment seemed ruined. No longer you contained any excitement for the animals. Moving a bit backwards, you went back further in.
Yet you didn’t wish to return to your mother who was clearly searching for Francesca and you. Neither did you wish to return to your brothers. Not even being allowed in the rooms where they played cards and gambled on the side. It was a secret, a hush-hush but everybody knew about it anyways. You decided to leave the ballroom for what it was. The music fading out when you went into the corridor. Most of the doors were closed. Others were open.
A group of people chattering and laughing loud with drinks in their hands. You passed them all feeling no need of entering a room full of strangers without the presence of your brothers. By the end of the corridor you were intrigued by a door partly opened. Not enough to peer inside, but wide enough to see a warmth glow come from inside of it. You neared the door staring through the creak to have a look inside.
Eyes widening at the sight of Tewkesbury. You gasped loud when he suddenly turned around spotting you. It had startled you, making you bump your shoulder against the door and trying to make a run for it. Tewkesbury hastened himself to the door, opening it more. – “Y/n!” – he called out. It made you stop. – “I mean Miss Y/n.” – he corrected himself. You took a step forwards not sure if you wanted to be around him. A second step was impossible as you felt a force keep you in place by your skirt.
Looking over your shoulder down, you saw Tewkesbury’s grip on your skirt. Your gaze went up to meet his. Full of sadness his eyes were. Perhaps yours were too. – “Please…” – he whispered, a hush almost unheard. Taking a deep breath, your shoulders slouched down. Unspoken you followed him back into the room, not sure why you did. The room was not that grand. Rather small. An armchair and small table positioned in the room.
White curtains with patterns on them. Here and there some trinkets. You went to sit down on the armchair, hands folded in your skirt. Tewkesbury stood up straight looking down at a small table. It contained a perfume bottle and a fan. It felt weird. Awkward to say the least. As if you were strangers again. Tewkesbury cleared his throat picking up the perfume bottle. You turned your head to look around the room.
Tewkesbury leaned forwards trying to sniff the smell. Accidently spraying in his face. He coughed loud, waving a hand in front of his face. Setting the perfume bottle back. – “I saw that girl head outside to see the peacocks.” – you said having the urge to cut through the silence. – “Enola.” – Tewkesbury replied as it made you hum confused.
“Oh…” – hearing him say her name made you turn your head away. It felt strange. Strange how your heart still yearned for him. Even in this moment. You wanted to run over to him, leap in his arms and hear him say how much he wants you. Tewkesbury understood the notion of your reaction, looking down at the table. He picked up the fan to occupy himself. – “Where is your suitor?” – he asked. You hummed confused looking up to him. Tewkesbury looked back at you opening the fan with a smooth movement.
It made you blink startled. – “That boy you danced with.” – Tewkesbury flapped the fan at himself keeping his eyes on you. – “I’m sure he has proposed by now.” – He went on unable to stop himself from yearning for you. For hoping you’d contradict his words. As a response you snorted loud. It made him curl up a smile not fully understanding what was this amusingly. – “I’ve danced with him once. Let’s not get too far ahead.” – you responded with a smile.
Tewkesbury’s smile got brighter feeling the tense atmosphere from before falter. – “Besides he’s not a prince.” – you added with a smile. – “Or a Viscount.” – Tewkesbury whispered out of ears reach. – “Enola seems nice.” – you told him. Tewkesbury flashed the fan in front of him again near his cheek. To you unknown, but to him full of words.
“She’s a terrible dancer.” – he commented making you laugh. – “Laugh all you want, I have the bruised toes to speak for me.” – he added as you started to laugh even harder. Hearing your laugh made him smile widely. In this moment it felt like heaven to him. He drew the fan down his cheek again to you. – “What are you doing?” – you questioned seeing it was the third time he had performed it. – “Fanning.” – he responded with a cheeky smile. – “It is hardly warm here… unless you are doing something else…” – you answered.
“Nothing else.” – he muttered out, looking away. Having a sense of time, you got up. Tewkesbury hasting him to your side. – “My siblings must wonder where I am.” – you spoke hearing your heart thump louder in his presence. – “Of course.” – he answered staring smitten down at you. You wanted to open the door as Tewkesbury was ahead of you. Opening it for you and allowing you to walk out. You went on, looking briefly over your shoulder back to him.
Unable to hide the fact you still much desired him. Your plans of marrying him still present, never buried away. You entered the ballroom once more. You watched a few more dances with mama at your side. Then there was a sudden announcement. Maken everyone hasten outside. The sky full dark now. Starless and cloudless. A blank canvas ready to be painted in with delights.
You neared the already standing crowd. Mama spotted Francesca going over to her. Not far from her you noticed Enola. Getting on the tips of your toes, you couldn’t help but see if Tewkesbury was near her. A part of you hoping he wasn’t. Your brothers were coming outside too, laughing loud. Colin holding a little sack in his hands. Probably the coins he had won with gambling.
They were getting behind some people to wait for what was to come. Setting your heels back down, you felt a presence near your right. Slowly letting your gaze go to your right to see who it was. Your heart leaped, expression softening when he stood beside you. Tewkesbury. Staring right back at you. Half a smile on his lips.
A whistle went off followed by a loud blow. It startled you and Tewkesbury as the night sky busted with colours. First a bright red. Then a bright blue. Tewkesbury and you looked up to the sky as the fireworks exploded. Bright yellow, green and red filled the night sky. Colours popping in the air. People were pointing and reacting startled with laughter.
You were amazed by the colours, watching them with excitement. A gentle nudge against your knuckles made you dim your enthusiasm. Trying to figure out what it was doing to you. Another nudge against the back of your hand. Pressing gently against your hand. A tingle went up your spine as you continued to watch the fireworks.
Slowly turning your palm and stretching your fingers out. Fingers glided over yours as they caught your hand. Another firework popped as the green colours reflected on your faces. Two hands intertwined for no one to see. Standing together in a heaven of bright colours.
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1000sunnygo · 4 months
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About Monet...
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Her case always stood out to me like a sore thumb because it was the FIRST time a woman in One Piece died onscreen, in real-time. She was not worse than Luffy's other enemies (or allies), she's not a death-penalty-deserving irredeemable and hateable scumbag like Orochi (or Vergo). Even Ceaser is now roaming free. Monet is similar to Baby 5 in many ways, but unlucky as hell. Being a character from a manga where the author tends to give almost everyone a second chance with life, she got none.
Oda said in SBS that Monet and Sugar were rescued from a terrible living condition. The sisters weren't from a poverty-stricken background like Baby 5, at least not initially. In the doodle Oda drew of Monet's childhood self, she had neat clothes and a pair of glasses, and looked like a nerd with her book about birds.
Remember a certain nerd who "seemed" to have a decent childhood in those childhood doodles, holding a dissected frog? It's possible that Monet's life crashed down in a similar manner, maybe at an older age, or maybe her experience with exploitation and betrayal pre-rescue went on for a longer duration. She was 17 when Doffy found her.
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Monet is the only character who bluntly tried to flirt with Law. It was a split second thing but what Monet was to Law was not what Law was to Monet. Keep in mind that during the entirety of Punk Hazard, Monet was practically at Law's mercy. There was a gaping hole in her chest the entire time. She seemed - probably the most carefree one has ever seemed with their heart gone, courtesy of Law. It's not like she had no fear of death, Zoro could paralyze her with it. I think it never for once crossed her mind that Law might take advantage of her biggest vulnerability. Similar to how she betted Zoro wouldn't kill a woman, Monet probably held some sort of belief about Law. Ironically she wasn't wrong about Zoro (who indeed went easy on her), but his lesson to her about a cornered tiger became relevant in a roundabout way. She was wrong to assume her surgeon's sympathy.
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Unlike Law who had a clear plan on how to retrieve his own heart from Ceaser, Monet seemed to have none on how to get hers from Law. Ceaser said Monet underwent the surgery to spy on Law (pretty sure that she just wanted to be a bird. Utility thoughts came second), of course she had to keep Doflamingo informed about Law's activities, who was blissfully unaware of the latter's revenge plan...
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Judging from her weakness to men praising her, maybe she had her own quest for love and Doffy, a women-lover who considered Law to be his reflection, expected things to naturally roll out between Law and Monet and subsequently bait Law to spill his true intentions? We all know in spite of harboring a detailed plan about each other for 13 years, Law and Doffy knew jack about what the other person was truly like.
I can't definitively say that Monet had a thing for Law, maybe it was something she subconsciously considered. But pretty sure that if there's someone who had a good chance of releasing her from Doflamingo's control, it was Law. True that she was a spy and her loyalty ran deep. But the children who were rescued by Doffy in harsh condition were all yearning for love. We've seen two cases where a Donquixote family member loosened their ties to Doffy when they found someone else who promised true and unconditional care. It's possible that with Monet it would've been the same.
Unfortunately, Law had no obligation to 'rescue' her - an enemy, and Oda had no obligation to keep Law clean of this unusually cruel and unremorsed action because Law is not a Straw hat. A man who was poisoned as a child being merciful to a person directly involved in poisoning children wouldn't have come off as a great writing anyway. Leave it to the mushroom hat doctor to have terrible onscreen chemistry with women.
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deancasbigbang · 10 days
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Title: This Impossible Happiness
Author: FriendofCarlotta
Artist: sidewinder
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Length: 50467
Warnings: undefined
Tags: Alternate Universes, Multiple Versions of Dean and Cas, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Post The Winchesters 1x13, Second Chances, Getting Together, Getting Back Together, Mutual Pining
Posting Date: October 22, 2024
Summary: In one universe, Dean Winchester is pushing thirty. He’s just danced at his little brother’s wedding, he likes his job at the garage, and he goes on the occasional hunt with friends and family. He’s also desperately lonely for someone to share his life with. One day, he finds a mysterious package outside his door. It contains a news clipping about an urban legend that just might be real, and a book by Professor Castiel Novak, who happens to specialize in that same urban legend. In another universe, Castiel Novak’s roadside motel is slowly dying, its business hollowed out by the interstate system. Dean Winchester, the man who asked him to run away together years ago, is only a painful regret these days. Until the day a mysterious letter Castiel doesn’t remember writing brings Dean back to his doorstep. Out there in the multiverse, a man and an angel look for each other in all the wrong places. In the meantime, they might as well help a few other versions of themselves figure things out.
Excerpt: The motel is where the memory of Castiel’s father is still alive, in the memorabilia stuffed tightly into Carver Edlund’s Chamber of Horrors — the roadside attraction housed in the small building next door to the Scenic View. It’s nothing but a single room stuffed full of objects that belonged to his father, along with a few life-size recreations of monsters from his books. But it still attracts visitors from time to time, thanks to a single billboard on the interstate.    The motel is also where Castiel’s memories of a different man live. And, though Castiel doesn’t like to admit it to himself, those are the memories he clings to the hardest.    The summer Castiel turned twenty-five — nearly five years ago now — a drifter washed up at the Scenic View. He’d been traveling the country doing odd jobs for over a year, and he happened to be a big fan of Carver Edlund’s novels.    Even all these years later, whenever Castiel dusts the display of his father’s old typewriter inside the Chamber of Horrors, he can still hear Dean exclaim over it, his voice bright and sugar-sweet with delight. Whenever Castiel freshens the paint on the monster replicas, he can still see the childlike glee on Dean’s face when Castiel encouraged him to touch the scarred face of Hatchet Man or the Wraith’s wicked spike.    The ghost of Dean’s memory is why Castiel always lingers a little longer than he needs to over the daily cleaning and upkeep of the Chamber of Horrors. It’s also why he saves one of the motel rooms for last — after both the Chamber and all the other rooms have been seen to.    Room 8 was Dean’s room. It was here that the two of them became intimate for the first time, on the fourth night of Dean’s stay. As Castiel approaches the door, he pauses — as he always does — with his hand on the doorknob. He remembers how Dean was still nearly a stranger then. A mysterious being of light and laughter who’d come into Castiel’s drab, dreary life to make him forget all about how he’d left college to care for his father through the long illness that eventually took his life.    Castiel had wanted him so very much. Every time Dean glanced at him from under his eyelashes or made a flirtation so subtle that it could plausibly be denied, Castiel refused to let himself respond, to believe that someone so lovely could ever want him. And yet, Dean must have read Castiel’s yearning in his eyes, because on that fourth night, shy glances and blushing remarks became an arm slung over his shoulder and the tip of a nose, nudging bashfully against Castiel’s stubbled cheek.   It’s pathetic how well Castiel still remembers the details of that night and every night that followed. It’s even more pathetic how, every time Castiel turns the knob of Room 8, he half-hopes to find Dean waiting for him inside, sprawled decadent and freckled atop the covers.
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goblinontour · 5 months
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Subtle Indications
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a journey in good company
part 1 | series masterlist
warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), smut, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex
word count: 6.6k
“Yes?” you said as you finally snapped out of the little bubble of thoughts that made you ignore the first three times he called your name.
You thought you recognised his voice, but you weren’t quite sure, after all, you never really expected to see your professors outside in the ‘real world’, per se, as weird as that might sound. It was as if that invisible barrier broke and those two realities collided the moment you looked up and your eyes met his.
It was, of course, none other than…Mr. Turner…your favourite.
“I got the seat, uhm, there” he said, pointing at the empty window seat next to you.
“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” you scrambled to move your bag from his place and almost started to get up to make space for him to walk through, but he stopped you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll just squeeze through.” he told you as he saw you getting nervous, giving you a slight smile, just to be polite, you thought.
He looked a bit…dishevelled. His hair messy and pointing in all different directions, his eyes tired. He must’ve just woken up and come straight to the train station. He almost missed it too, getting on just as the train was about to leave.
Speaking of leaving, right as he was moving through the small space between, well, you, and the table separating the seats opposite, the train started moving, and he lost his balance, nearly falling on top of you if it weren’t for the handle of your seat that he managed to grab just in time.
“Sorry” he murmured as he regained his composure and finally sat down next to you, fixing his brown leather bag neatly on the table by the window.
You smiled at him, though he didn’t seem to notice, because as soon as he sat that bag down he scrambled to bring it back to his lap, searching for something he couldn’t seem to find. You tried not to pry too much into the contents, instead bringing your focus back to the book in your hand you only now noticed you were holding way too tight, the pages almost breaking where your fingers were holding it open so you wouldn’t lose the spot where you left off before he showed up.
You couldn’t help yourself from glancing at him. It turned out he was looking for his sunglasses, slipping them on despite no sunshine seeping through the window that would warrant the need for them.
You continued to read, thinking he probably doesn’t want to be bothered by a random student in his free time, but the words you kept reading over and over wouldn’t register in your brain, your mind just being filled by thoughts of him. Where was he going? You stole another glance, noticing the way his gaze drifted out the window, lost in thought. What could he possibly be thinking about? Curiosity tugged at you, wondering what might be occupying his mind so deeply. Was it the weight of his responsibilities as a professor, or perhaps something more personal? You found yourself yearning to unravel everything about him.
Some time passed, he didn’t get off at any of the stops in the city, so he was going away too, just like you. Though he had nothing else but his usual bag he also brought to class every day? Questions kept going through your mind, questions that will probably never get answered, so you pushed them away and really tried to focus on your reading, not that it was anything important…quite the opposite.
“Whatcha readin’?” he asked out of the blue and only then you noticed he was looking straight at the book in your hands. Embarrassment filled your body as you realised he could clearly see the pages from the small distance between you, considering that the contents weren’t particularly…appropriate. To say the least, you definitely wouldn’t have wanted him to see, and if you weren’t so daft you would have realised that just because he had his shades blocking you from seeing his eyes, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t see either.
“Nothing.” you said as you slammed the book closed, making this way bigger of a deal than it should have been. He wouldn’t invade your privacy and read that, he was probably just trying to be polite, you thought, again. And you just embarrassed yourself by acting like a little girl getting caught by her parents doing something she shouldn’t be doing. “It's just a- it’s a dumb thing.” you continued, face flushed as you got the courage to look up. You weren’t expecting to be met by his eyes staring straight at you, his glasses now perched perfectly on the top of his head, looking effortlessly cool.
“No, it’s not.” he quickly muttered “I liked it.” he said, almost in a whisper, like he was hiding his own embarrassment of reading while you were not aware.
Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected admission. His words hung in the air, filling the space between you with a charged tension. You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through you, mingled with a hint of fluster. Mr. Turner, the Mr. Turner, your professor whose lectures you hung onto with fervour, actually enjoyed the book-thing, whatever, you were reading, a book you probably shouldn’t have been reading in public in the first place, all things considered.
His confession felt like the bridge you were currently passing, connecting the gap between you, somehow starting to blur the boundaries of student and teacher, revealing the shared raw human need beneath. You couldn't resist the urge to smile, the blush spreading over your entire face.
"I didn't expect you to...I mean, I'm glad you liked it." you replied, your voice coming out soft, yet slightly trembling, urging you to clear your throat as you tried to regain your composure.
His own smile mirrored yours, a subtle curve of his lips that spoke volumes. “You can go on…if you’d like…of course.”
Your heart raced at his invitation to continue reading. With a shy nod, you opened the book once more, the words on the page suddenly feeling more significant than before. As you kept reading, you couldn't shake the feeling of his presence beside you, his quiet breathing and occasional rustle of papers adding to the intensity of the moment.
You were surprised when Mr. Turner spoke again, his voice breaking the tense silence like a gentle wave on the shore. "Would you mind if…" he said quietly, his tone soft, implying with a gesture of his hands that he wished to read along with you.
Once again settling in silence, your ability to form words completely gone in that moment, you brought the book closer to him, almost invading his half of the seats, but not quite. He knew you’d finished the page you were currently on, so you watched as he licked the tips of his fingers, his tongue just peeking out from behind his pink lips, and with his smooth digits he picked up the corner of the page, flipping it over to uncover the not yet discovered words lying underneath. A mixture of excitement, nervousness, and a budding sense of connection filled you, that left you yearning for more.
As the journey continued, you found yourself eager to explore more than just the pages of a book with him, but you could never act on those thoughts, you wouldn’t dare.
Luckily, he took that step for you, his arm carefully inching closer to you, and while his eyes were locked on the page in front of him, you could tell he was closely examining you for any tiny reaction that would indicate he should stop.
When his hand reached your own seat, his little finger twitched in his attempt to touch you, the small, almost insignificant contact sending electricity through you, eliciting a soft gasp from your mouth. In that moment, the train rattling along its tracks faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared understanding…and perhaps…unravelling the mysteries of his mind along the way.
“Keep reading.” he whispered quietly enough that you wouldn’t have even heard it if you weren’t so focused on everything that meant him in that moment.
It’s as if he knew exactly what the next page was going to contain:
“His fingers inadvertently grazed her leg, sending a thrill through both of them. Their eyes met, a fleeting moment of hesitation followed by a silent acknowledgment of the forbidden allure between them.”
Had he read this before? Did he-
“Go on.” he encouraged you, his gaze still on the page, as if looking at you would make what was happening seem too real. He didn’t want to break this trance you found yourselves in.
With your pulse quickening, you continued to read, the words resonating with a startling familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. As if guided by an unseen force, you turned the page, the narrative unfolding with an eerie parallel to the electrifying tension between you and professor Turner.
“With a subtle shift, his hand moved to her panties and he grinned down at her. ‘Prepare yourself.’ he said, gently leaning her back until he was on top of her. ‘Do your worst.’ she replied, spreading her legs for him.”
Your body was working against your better judgement, following the words written on the page exactly, your legs spreading involuntarily, allowing his hand to slip between your thighs, his fingers moving with more intent now as they ever so slightly grazed your thin panties from under your skirt, your half gasp of shock, half moan of immense pleasure, caused mostly by the tension, getting stuck in your throat, your mouth opening without any sound coming out. It was barely noticeable, to anyone else, all others too busy on their own daydreams or troubles. Not that you would have noticed if anyone saw you anyway.
“Don’t stop, keep going.” he pushed, but you were stuck. You could no longer move, or focus your eyes enough on the small letters that once seemed legible, but no longer. He noticed your sort of distress, or more so just an overall startled demeanour, and he looked at you, he finally looked at you, still in silence as you stared at him and through him at the same time.
“Are you alright?” he asked. His eyes never left yours, not until he’d get his answer. His gaze held a mixture of apprehension and longing, mirroring the emotions swirling within you.
You nodded, your nerves slowly dissipating and allowing you to think for a second.
“Talk to me…please.” he pleaded, the uncertainty clear in his eyes. Did he go too far? He shouldn’t have started this it was too much, he-
“Yeah…yeah I- yes.” you choked on your words, the sounds coming out as a breathy whisper.
“Yes?” he asked again, wanting to hear a clear response from you, to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries you didn’t feel comfortable with, though you were way past that.
From the moment he saw you as he entered the train his mind was already set on this burning desire that somehow didn’t register to himself until then, when he saw your crossed legs as you were engulfed in your own world, your naked thighs sticking to the leather on the seat where your maybe too short skirt wasn’t covering them.
“Yes.” you spoke again, looking straight into his eyes and giving him the confirmation he needed to continue.
He moved closer to you, your shoulders touching as his hand between your thighs kept almost petting you over your underwear. He nuzzled his head into your neck, making you gasp as you felt his breath tickling your skin as he inhaled your scent.
“Keep reading.” he implored, his lips grazing your throat and he swore he could feel your pulse against his mouth from how fast your heart was beating.
The air crackled with anticipation as the fictional characters navigated their forbidden desires, their clandestine encounters echoing the unspoken truth that lingered between you and Alexander. God- no. You couldn’t think about him like that, he’s always strictly been just Mr. Turner, to everyone, but it felt too indecent to think of him being your professor in that moment, or perhaps that was the best part of it.
With each word, the boundary between fiction and reality blurred, drawing you both deeper into a realm where secrets were laid bare and desires dared to be fulfilled.
His hand didn’t dare stop its exploration there. As the action on the pages got more and more obscene, so did his touches, the tips of his fingers rubbing with clear intent on your covered cunt, the cotton sticking to your folds as he kept pushing deeper, spreading your wetness through the material.
“How much longer?” he asked, his lips rubbing against your skin with each movement of his mouth as he got those words out, each sound vibrating through you.
“What?” you asked confused, while still trying to keep your voice as calm and collected as possible, given the situation you found yourself in.
“Until we arrive. How much?” he clarified.
“Oh- uhm” you glanced at the screen at the end of the coach, which said it would be about 45 minutes, excluding any possible delays. “45 minutes…sir.”
“Good…” he replied, pulling away from you and settling back completely in his own seat. You didn’t even notice just how close he got, you were practically sharing one seat. “I’ll go in there.” he continued as he was neatly putting away his sunglasses again, this time in the front pocket of his bag, so he wouldn’t lose them again in the mess. He discreetly pointed towards the part of the train where the toilets were, so you’d know exactly what he meant, without having to spell it out.
He got up from his seat and said “I’ll be waiting for you”, avoiding your gaze, embarrassed by his own actions and lack of reason. He shouldn’t be doing this.
Before passing past you he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Don’t feel pressured to come…if…if you don’t want this.” were his last words before clearing his throat and quickly slipping out of the tight space, heading right where he said he would go.
Your mind reeled as Mr. Turner's touch lingered on your skin, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't extinguish. His words, spoken with a mixture of desire and restraint, hung in the air, leaving you breathless and uncertain of what to do next. Was this really happening? This must’ve been the most surreal dream of all time, right? But it wasn’t, you were most definitely awake, the train was moving, the people around were real, this was real.
As he retreated to the train's restroom, you were left alone with your thoughts, grappling with the intensity of the moment and the implications of his actions. The train's rhythmic motion seemed to echo the turmoil in your mind, each click-clack of the tracks a reminder of the forbidden desire that simmered between you and your professor.
Minutes stretched into eternity as you wrestled with your inner turmoil, torn between the allure of indulging in this forbidden thirst and the fear of crossing a line you couldn't uncross. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remained clear: the pull of Mr. Turner's presence was undeniable, drawing you towards him with an irresistible force.
With trembling hands and a racing heart, you made your decision. As you rose from your seat and made your way down the narrow aisle of the train, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were stepping into uncharted territory, into a realm where the rules of academia and propriety no longer applied, and only the primal desires of two souls intertwined in a forbidden dance mattered.
And as you reached the door of the restroom, you took a deep breath, summoning the courage to push it open and step into the unknown, ready to surrender to the irresistible pull of passion that had drawn you together.
When you finally opened it, you noticed his hand on the knob on the other side. He was about to leave, the hope he had of you turning up almost ran out, but you showed up, and he looked down at you in a way that made you feel like there was something intriguing about the vulnerability he displayed in that moment.
“You’re here.” he gleamed, looking relieved to see you in front of him. He stayed like that, staring in disbelief for a moment, while you stood awkwardly outside the small ‘room’, not knowing what to do, how to act, what to say.
He walked back, as much as the tiny space allowed, an invitation for you to join. Inside the restroom, the air felt charged with anticipation, every breath heavy with the weight of the moment. Mr. Turner stood near the sink, his gaze fixed on you as you entered, a fusion of the undeniable desire and uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
Without a word, you closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sealing your fate. The space suddenly felt smaller, more intimate, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this delicate sanctuary, a newfound sense of intimacy blossoming between you and Mr. Turner.
Mr. Turner's hand awkwardly reached out, hesitating for a moment before brushing against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
With a silent understanding, you leaned into him, the heat of his body mingling with yours as you pressed together, lost in the intoxicating embrace of desire.
His lips found yours in a hungry kiss, a fervent expression of the need that had been building between you since that first look as he got on the train. Actually, if you were being honest with yourself, you’d admit you fantasised about him every time you sat in his class, from the moment he walked in through the door.
His tongue prodded at your mouth, and you allowed it entrance to meet your own, the energy between you changing from just hunger to proper filth. It wasn’t pretty, you were too eager, he was too needy, it was messy, but that did nothing but reel you in further, never wanting to get rid of his taste from your tongue, so sweet.
He could no longer keep his hands to himself, his palms moving to grab at you anywhere he could, wanting to touch everything, from your shoulders to your waist, your hips, each touch, each caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity you had never known.
In that moment, there were no boundaries remaining, no rules to hold you back, only the raw, unbridled passion that consumed you both.
And as the train hurtled toward its destination, you surrendered yourself to the irresistible pull of desire, knowing that in each other's arms, you had found something worth risking everything for.
Lost in the throes of passion, you revelled in the sensation of his hands exploring every inch of your body, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The air crackled with electricity, the heat between you rising with each passing moment.
In the hazy blur of desire, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of Mr. Turner. His lips trailed a path of fire along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they travelled from your mouth to your jaw, nipping along it with his teeth, eager to taste more than just your mouth. Each kiss fueled the flames of desire that burned within you, consuming you in a whirlwind of ecstasy.
He snaked his hands around the smallest point of your waist, pulling you flush to him, keeping you as close as your bodies would permit. As you crossed your legs in need of some sort of relief, settling for anything you could get, you nudged along his crotch, sparking a groan from him. He was getting impossibly hard, you could feel it through his trousers, and your sudden touch took him by surprise, the pleasure from that one second of stimulation making him realise just how much he had to have this, to have you.
A burst of boldness came to you, urging you to get on your knees for him. And so you did. For a second his arms didn’t want to let you go but he soon realised what you were doing and he shuffled back, his arms on the edge of the sink grounding him, preventing him from simply melting to the floor, though that’s what he felt like.
Before lowering completely, you had to touch him, he touched and groped but now it was your turn, your hands sliding down the cashmere of his sweater, from his shoulders to his chest, which, when you reached, you felt the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms, a rhythm that matched the pounding of your own. You stopped there to give some attention to his nipples, incredibly hard, poking from underneath the soft thin material. He gasped at the feeling of your fingers running over them, his mouth agape and his chest rising with each breath he took. His gasp was music to your ears. Fuck, he was so responsive.
As you knelt before him, a rush of anticipation coursed through you, fueled by the knowledge that you held his desire in the palm of your hand. His eyes met yours, a mixture of surprise and longing evident in their depths as he watched you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
Your hands traced a path down his body, every touch igniting a fire within both of you. His skin burned beneath your fingertips, even through the barrier of fabric, that you couldn’t stand any longer. You reached the edge of his top, your fingertips carefully prying beneath it until they reached his naked skin, so soft, the tiny hairs covering his abdomen rising at the contact, sending shivers through his entire body.
His growing bulge was screaming for you to touch it and it was something you couldn’t wait for, you wanted him in your mouth so badly. Beginning to unbuckle his belt, you burrowed your face into the tight material covering his straining erection, mouthing at him through the fabric while keeping your eyes on him, just him, the imagine of him biting his lower lip to suppress any sounds that might’ve dared to come out instantly burned into your memory, forever. His eyes bore into yours, dark with desire and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name but felt as intensely as the heat of his body seeping into you.
With his pants free of the leather that held them up and a sense of urgency that matched his own, you worked quickly to free him from the confines of his clothing, every moment spent tantalisingly close to the prize driving you to new heights of desire. You quickly worked the button and zipper that still stood in your way, finally beginning to lower them, having a bit of a struggle as the whole thing got too tight, they didn’t seem to want to slip over his bulge, but you managed, in the end.
As his pants finally yielded to your efforts, you were greeted by the sight of him, hard and ready, straining against the fabric of his boxers. The need in his eyes mirrored your own, a hunger that threatened to consume you both.
With a sense of reverence, you reached for him, your hands trembling with anticipation as you traced the outline of his erection through the thin material. His sharp intake of breath was a symphony of lust and craving, echoing through the air as you finally freed him from all the constraints keeping you apart. His cock sprung up hitting his covered tummy, the blush on his face mimicking the one of his tip, red and leaking on his top, staining the dark crimson an even deeper shade.
And then, with a daring born of passion, you lowered your head, your lips trailing a path of fire along his length as you kissed the underside, following with a lick all the way from the base to the head, more little licks and open-mouthed kisses to it. He started getting frustrated, wanting so much more. But Alex hated begging, feeling too embarrassed to do so, unless he got desperate enough. And he did. He got over himself and begged you.
“More please, sweetheart.” he asked of you. How could you possibly deny him?
With his hungry eyes raking over you, and one of his hands coming to rest on your head in encouragement, petting your hair, you took him into your mouth and he revelled in the feeling of the tender skin of your throat, the pleasurable sensation of the tight, wet heat his dick was enveloped in.
“Oh fuck…” Alex groaned “been dreaming of this, of- of you, when I–” his sentence getting cut off by a moan as his hips bucking involuntarily, pushing his cock deeper inside, his tip brushing against the back of your throat.
He caught you off guard, making you choke and splutter around his dick, pulling off with a wet pop to catch your breath, leaving his length glistening wet with your saliva. You continued stroking him with your hand, thumbing at the precum leaking from his slit and spreading it around, mixing it with your own fluids that tainted him.
“When you…what?” you probed curiously, wanting to hear him say it.
“When I touch myself.” he admitted “You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of you…on your knees…or bent over my desk.” he went on to say, trailing off into a whisper at the end, continuing his pets on the side of your head as you took him into your mouth again.
His words took a second to register to you, and you moaned pathetically around his cock, your pussy practically dripping with need from thinking of him touching himself with you in his mind. He groaned in response, feeling the vibration of your moan as it slipped from between your parted lips.
You bobbed your head up and down a couple more times before he pulled you off this time.
“Stop.” he breathed out as he was holding you gently by the hair so you wouldn’t be able to reach and touch him anymore.
“What’s wrong, did I- did I do something?” you asked, the worry and slight panic thick in your voice.
“No, no, it’s…I just need a break or I’ll come in your mouth…and I wanna be…inside…of you, sweets.” he panted. Clearly you got him quite close already, and he didn’t want this to end so soon.
He spread his arms out for you to grab and he brought you closer again, taking up your mouth with his own again. He moaned into you as he tasted himself on your tongue, and his hands around your waist were sliding dangerously low, past the curve of your ass, slowly skimming the hem of your skirt until they slipped under it, playing with the edges of your panties.
“Wanna taste you too.” he hummed against your lips “Can I? W-will you let me, please?”
“Yes, of course you fucking can…oh my god. Yes!” you said too quickly, too eager to feel him for you to hide your excitement anymore. You couldn't help but notice how Mr. Turner smiled into the kiss, giving you one last peck before turning you around, at which you automatically bent over the small sink as much as you could, arching your back to look your best for him.
He bent down behind you and you watched over your shoulder as he curiously pulled your skirt up and bunched it up as far as it would go, his eyes full of sparks as he was taking in the view before him. His hand splayed out across his lower back, tracing along the middle of your spine until he was stopped in his tracks by the lace border that adorned your underwear.
With a low growl, Mr. Turner tugged at the lace, causing a shiver to run down your spine. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of anticipation through your body. As he slowly peeled the fabric down, your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt exposed yet exhilarated, craving every sensation he was about to unleash upon you. You could feel his lips trailing along the curve of your spine, leaving a path of hot kisses in their wake. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive under his ministrations,
"Do you know how much I've been wanting to taste you?" he whispered. His words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, making you ache for his touch even more and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan of pleasure.
He leaned into you, his warm breath teasing your skin. Time seemed to stand still as he explored every inch of you, his touch setting your body ablaze with desire. And as his lips finally found their way to where you needed him most, Mr. Turner's hands gripped your hips firmly as he moved closer, his tongue darting out to taste you.
The sensation was overwhelming, sending sparks flying behind your closed eyelids as you surrendered yourself to him completely.
He hummed against you with curious little licks that made your breath hitch in your throat. His facial hair tickled as it brushed along your folds and his tongue traced intricate patterns across your sensitive flesh, moving playfully around in little circles, feeling you out, igniting a fire that consumed your every thought. It was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You couldn't help but arch your back further, pressing yourself against him as well as the coldness of the sink as he continued his exploration with a newfound sense of boldness, licking a strip from your clit, gathering the wetness pooling, all the way to your hole.
His movements became more fervent, more urgent, as if he couldn't get enough of you. And as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, you couldn't help but cling desperately to whatever you could reach that would help keep your balance, your fingers digging around the metal tap and you found yourself gasping for air as ecstasy washed over you in waves.
Each flick of his tongue along with the vibrations flowing through you from his moaning as he was eating you out brought you closer to your release, faster than you would’ve anticipated. Perhaps it was the thrill of it all, the unexpected nature of what was happening, the fact that you probably shouldn’t be doing this, much less here.
You finally succumbed to the overwhelming sensations crashing over you, and he kept his movements as you rode the waves of pleasure, licking away at the fluids seeping from you.
When he considered it enough, his lips parted from your core and you looked back at him over your shoulder, again, greeted with the sight of him seeming a bit out of sorts, his nose red from the friction, and his lips and chin glistening from your wetness and cum, little droplets hanging onto his beard, and the smile forming on your lips was soon replaced by the ‘O’ shape your mouth was just in a few moments ago as you felt him pulling on your pussy with his fingers, the cold air hitting you deeper inside as he opened you up.
“You’re so sweet, I could eat you forever but I need to be inside you now.” he said absentmindedly while wiping down the wet mess from his face with the back of his hand, his eyes still locked on your exposed hole clenching around nothing at his admission.
With a breathless nod, you could only manage a whispered agreement as the anticipation coiled tightly within you. His words hung in the air, charged with desire, as he raised from his knees and positioned himself behind you, his hands exploring every inch of your trembling body.
“Do you have a-“ you began, but he cut you off as he figured what you were about to say, condom.
“No.” he breathed out while rubbing the side of his face into your clothed back, like how a cat would rub against you when begging for attention. “Will that stop you from wanting this?” he further questioned, the answer obvious to both of you. You’d gone too far to stop now.
“No.” you confessed, too entranced by the way you could feel his dick leaking against your arsecheeks where it was softly rubbing into your skin as he couldn’t keep his hips still, unavoidably rutting into you at a slow, almost unnoticeable pace, begging for stimulation after being ignored for too long.
“I’ll be careful…pull out.” he whispered as he finally entered you, his cock slipping in easily without any guidance from the sheer amount of wetness covering you both.
A primal moan escaped your lips, drowning in the overwhelming pleasure of being filled by him and quickly muffled by his hand as to not alert anyone else of your actions. You managed to forget about your surroundings, but he was aware of the trouble this could get both of you into if you were to be caught.
“Shhh.” he murmured into the bunched up fabric his face rested against, his other hand slipping through the tight space to reach your breast, moving your top to the side delicately to grab a hold of one of your breasts, his big hand engulfing it, the roughness of his palm feeling like heaven as it scratched your stiff sensitive nipple.
Despite the risk, you couldn't bring yourself to care, consumed by the overwhelming need for him.
He slowly started moving inside of you, gliding out almost all the way before roughly pushing back in. Picking up a sort of rhythm, although irregular and messy, each of his thrusts sent waves of ecstasy through your body, erasing any lingering doubts or worries you might’ve had about this.
It was hot and wet, fucking filthy and absolutely glorious, the indescribably lewd sounds of him fucking into you leaving you to only feel the sensation of his body pressed against yours, the world around fading into a blur, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming need to be consumed by each other, to savour this.
You started moving against him, pushing your hips back to meet every thrust of his. He could feel you mouthing something under his palm, allowing you to speak by instead dropping his hand to the edge of the small counter the sink lied on.
“Need your- ah-…fingers…on my- fuck-“ you couldn’t even form a proper sentence, getting cut off by a gasp or moan in between your words as he kept thrusting deep inside you, hitting all the right spots.
“Yeah, I got you.” he instantly complied to your wishes, quickly bringing his hand in between your legs to toy messily with your clit, quite constricted by the tight space, nevertheless accomplishing giving you the pleasure you craved. “Try to stay quiet though love.” he urged you.
You weren’t confident in your ability to do that, so you covered your mouth with one of your own hands, momentarily losing your balance as your legs started to give in and fail at keeping you up, but he had you. He moved his other arm around your waist to your belly, holding you flush against him, holding you close, safe, in his grip, supporting you as your legs threatened to give way, ensuring you remained upright against him.
He resorted to mostly grinding his hips into you, the position not really allowing much room to move freely, but still every sensation was heightened, every touch electric, as you lost yourselves in the rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His fingers worked tirelessly on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting throughout your body with each touch. You bit down on your hand to stifle your cries, your senses overwhelmed with each grind of his hips. You felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, clenching around him repeatedly as your second orgasm was threatening to wash over you.
“Don’t do that- I- fuck-“ his hips faltered, and you were holding onto him dangerously tight, he couldn’t escape your grip.
With a couple last deep thrusts, you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, twitching against your tightening walls as his release spilled out, filling you up and coating his length as he kept grinding even deeper, the feeling sending you over the edge as you too soon came, for the second time.
The way you squeezed his cock made him bite your shoulder, his teeth grinding into the fabric covering you in an attempt to quiet down his cries from the overstimulation.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, he collapsed against you, breathless and spent. His heart was about to pound straight out of his chest. This was too much, too intimate.
He stayed like that for a minute, his cock softening inside of you as the seconds passed, before pulling out, his cum immediately starting to run out of you.
He quickly tucked himself back into his boxers and grabbed some tissues to clean you up.
“I’m sorry.” he said, sincerity and shame felt in his voice, and your mind went to thinking he meant he was sorry for doing this, that he regretted it, but he reassured you, feeling you tense as his hands gently rubbed your thighs and pulled your underwear back on. “About not pulling out, I didn’t mean to, it was just- I-“
“It’s okay.” you told him, pulling your skirt back down over your ass and turning around to see him panicking. “I can take care of it, don’t worry.” you said, reserved. You didn’t know how you two stood, if he would want you to forget this ever happened.
“No, no, no, no, you- I’ll help you…get you…what you need…yeah.”
His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you nuzzled into his chest, basking in the afterglow of your shared ecstasy. In the hazy aftermath, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the warmth of each other's embrace, the exchanged tender kisses, savouring the closeness, until you were reminded of your surroundings by the train stopping harshly in its tracks.
“Fuck, I need to get my stuff.” you huffed, annoyed at the moment having to come to an end.
“I’ll get them, you stay in here…calm down darling.” he spoke sweetly, fixing your top back to its original position and buttoning up his trousers before he emerged from the restroom, leaving you alone in your thoughts.
Fuck.
That was the only thing coming to mind when you turned back around to look at yourself in the mirror, your hair pointing awkwardly in all directions from where his hands got tangled in it.
At the same time, you couldn’t stop the smile that began forming on your lips.
a/n: this was all caused by the recents, if it wasn’t obvious enough, and i kinda fell back in love with the version Mr. Turner is made up in my head. i hope this makes sense, i had someone proofread alongside my own go at it but if there are any bits that sound wrong or typos let me know
tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove
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fazedlight · 11 months
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Enchanted (idiots in love)
“Try something fun,” Nia had said. “Get your mind off science,” Nia had said.
Lena huffed as she flipped through the pages of her spellbook, scrawling notes in her notebook. Science was fun. Labwork was soothing, data analysis was exhilarating, and tinkering solved that itch deep in her bones. She wanted to understand, and science was always there for her.
… except for right now.
It just didn’t make any sense. The double-slit experiment should have produced a diffraction pattern - or at least two straight lines, if somehow magic behaved as a classic particle. But magic did neither. Instead, it either caused a damn fractal or did not seem to pass through the slits at all. How the fuck does this work?
Nia - knowing full well what it was like to struggle with capricious and chaotic powers - had suggested that Lena take a break, try something fun with her magic instead of constantly churning through its utility or its inner workings. The thought made Lena grumpy, but she was out of experiment ideas at the moment - so there she was, flipping through her mother’s spellbook, trying to find something… fun.
Lena continued her grumble, trying to get her mind off her experiments - maybe magic is some sort of phasic neutrino nonsense - and turned her page to a pair of spells that always caught her eye, though she would never admit it. It’s not as though she would ever use the spells for LUST and OBSESSION anyway.
Still, it was interesting, where these two spells lay. The spellbook wasn’t organized alphabetically or in any other methodical fashion - instead, the spells near each other always seemed thematically related. Malicious spells were grouped together, as were benevolent spells, as were helpful spells, often with some illustrations in between to separate the groups.
It always amused Lena that there were only these two spells in this cluster - OBSESSION on the left side, LUST on the right, in nearly the exact center of the book. There was nothing else… no love spell, she thought to herself. Not that she’d ever use it, even if there was a certain kryptonian whose affections she yearned for.
“Are you okay?” came a familiar voice.
Lena looked over her shoulder, finding Kara walking down from the balcony entrance. “Kara,” Lena said, feeling a little lighter as the blonde entered the room. Romance or not, the kryptonian always managed to put a smile on her face. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what Nia said,” Kara said with a patient smile, halting at the foot of the table, as her hands rested on her hips.
“She has a big mouth,” Lena mumbled.
“She said you’ve been frustrated,” Kara said with a small laugh.
“None of my experiments are working,” Lena grumbled. “Magic acts like nothing I’ve ever seen…”
“You can’t always learn new skills from first principles-” Kara began, before her drifting eyes suddenly halted on the book.
Lena’s brows furrowed in curiosity as she watched a rose tint rise in Kara’s cheeks. Confused, Lena followed Kara’s gaze to the spellbook, before remembering… Obsession and Lust. “Oh, no, no-” Lena started, reaching over to the book to close it. “Not that type of frustrated…”
“W-well, it’s okay if you are,” Kara said, stuttering. 
“I’m not, I’m- I’m fine.”
“You don’t need a spell, Lena,” Kara said, her embarrassment tempered by sincerity. “If you wanted someone. You could have anyone.”
“I- I wouldn’t use a spell, Kara!” Lena said. Goodness knows her brainwashing days were well behind her. “There’s not even a love spell in here anyway.”
“No, there wouldn’t be,” Kara said pensively. “Love can’t be forced.”
“I’d want it to be real anyway,” Lena said, her fingers drifting over the book’s cover as she tried to fight the heat rising on her face. But Kara’s comment was… interesting. “How do you know it can’t be forced?”
“Just a conversation I had with an imp once,” she said, a fond - if perhaps a little sad - smile tugging at her lips. “Love has to be found. It doesn’t work otherwise.”
Lena hummed noncommittally, rising from her seat.
“You’ll- you’ll find it, Lena. Like I said, you could have anyone.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Lena said softly.
“Lena,” Kara said, suddenly concerned as she closed the distance between the two, taking Lena’s hands into her own. “Lena, I’m serious. You’re kind, and so smart, and beautiful-”
“Kara, please,” Lena said, finally meeting Kara’s eyes again.
Kara eyed Lena, shifting anxiously on her feet. Lena tilted her head, curious as to the kryptonian’s newfound nerves. With a pursing of her lips, a determined gaze, Kara nodded to herself, giving Lena’s hands a small squeeze.
“You don’t need a spell to enchant me,” Kara said, her voice shaking. “You don’t need a spell to enchant anyone.”
“Enchant-” Lena paused, her eyes darting between Kara’s.
“I’m not- I’m not expecting us to change, Lena. I just want you to know. Anyone would love you, you just have to put yourself out there, to find the person you want.”
Lena raised her hand to cup Kara’s cheek. “Kara…”
It was sweet, how shy Kara was, how her cheeks burned red - Lena was sure that hers was a matching shade - and yet the kryptonian sought only to give comfort. Lena smiled, as she tilted Kara’s head up, as the kryptonian looked back at her with those deep uncertain blues.
Lena smiled. “You enchant me too.”
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cloudwisp · 9 months
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𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 · 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰
contents: fluff. pre-relationship. mentions of the three moon sisters from an in-game book 'moonlit bamboo forest'. 500 wc.
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You share your first kiss with Wriothesley somewhere on Fontaine’s hilltop near the Opera Epiclese, overlooking the clear waters as moonlight cascades across the verdant lands covered in patches of morning glory flowers.
You both were on your third date, laying on a picnic blanket with a basket of pastries from a popular cafe, freshly brewed tea thanks to his portable set, and rainbow roses he gifted you set aside. It was the only time you could have him all to yourself when the Fortress became unexpectedly busy with him dealing with Fatui spies and unearthing their true goals on marked territory. But it was quickly resolved and everything was back to running smoothly again.
Even when Wriothesley had too much going on his mind, his thoughts always returned to you and your welcomed visits to his office to steal him away from his work. A sliver of a smile rests on his lips when you exchange greetings, and he makes sure to offer you another cup of tea to keep you from leaving too soon. When you have gone back to the surface, he yearns to see you again and have you close to him—just as you are now.
He likes the feeling of your soft hand in his rough and calloused ones and the sweet sound of your voice, even as you tell him about the legend of the three moon sisters while gazing upon the radiant and timeless orb that's said to be a corpse. But Wriothesley was more interested in you than the sovereigns of the night sky and the tragic fates bestowed unto them. Though, he listened intently to your every word his eyes never once wavered from the opalescent glow filtering your beautiful face, memorizing every minute detail of your expressions and the moments leading up to it…
Then you both went quiet and you turned your head to look at him. You can feel his hand tighten around yours as he leans in impossibly close, his breath mingling with yours as he points out that you have something on the corner of your mouth—a crumb from the pear tarlet you nibbled on a while ago. “Here, let me…” He sweeps his thumb against your tender skin at first, then your heart skips a beat and heat spreads throughout your body when he fully presses his lips there.
When he draws back, he searches your face for anything that tells him he didn't scare you off even when the mutual interest was already made clear. Yet a shadow of doubt weighs in the back of his mind because deep down he was starting to fall for you, and he hopes what you might feel for him is real and true. And so, the night air became sweeter in the way your lips stretched into a smile that was warm and inviting, and he knew at that moment his world would shift to revolve around you. “How about a proper first kiss?”
He dips in again for another taste, embracing the softness of your lips and pulling you closer until it is just the two of you, your ever-growing love, and the heavens as your witness.
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꒰ note ᰔ there was nothing there, he just wanted to kiss you. ꒱
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xerotiny99 · 6 months
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Chasing Stars in the Dark // Request
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Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader [best friends to lovers]
Warning: smut, hard dom!yunho, sub!reader, manhandling, fingering, big cock yunho, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex, cunnilingus, Yunho as a hard dom but still caring, etc.
Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with any mentioned tags. Grab yourself a couple of snacks because this long as fuck. And not proofread.
Requested By: wattpad request
Gist: having broken up recently, you call your best friend and ramble all your sad tales to him. Yunho always kept an open mind and listened to your every chatter, no matter how envious he seemed listening to you. However, finding you seemingly heartbroken, he suggests you return to your hometown. Because he was too. Although, going back home might mean having more boy problems than usual.
Song rec: Stars by SKY
Word Count: 24,665
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"And he said, I dress like a slut!" you whine, aggressively sucking on the straw to get the remaining drink out of your glass.
The loud noise caused you to earn bothered glances from the surrounding people. You take a look around, seemingly unaware of what you had done, and bow your head a little; you turn back to your laptop screen, finding a familiar face grinning at your disastrous mistake. He doesn't need a reason to snicker at you, and why would he? Every moment of your life is mangled deeply within the awkwardness defined by your body, he only found it endearing. Did he?
"Stop it, Yunho," you groan, rolling your eyes at him. "That wasn't funny."
"To me it was," he shrugs.
You were sitting in the campus cafe, with your laptop propped open on the table and your favourite drink by your side. Mellow sun hung over your head, shining bright and dithering to the cloudy skies which the winds blew by. In the daze of the sunshine, you occupied the window counter with a long table and stools for seating; you preferred the single seating instead of the booth 'cause it would not engage you in unnecessary interactions. Or so you thought. Being an introvert, social interactions weren't really your strong suit. "But coming back to your real issues," he clears his throat, "he really said you dress like a slut? Oh my god. The audacity."
The moment his voice raised a baritone, you knew he was being overly dramatic about this situation; in a way, it seemed like he was mocking you. And maybe he was.
You roll your eyes again, "Yunho, I'm being serious!"
He whines, "so am I, Liyah. The audacity of a man to tell you how to dress is sheer atrocity and arrogance."
"Yeah yeah," you sigh, "but he was so perfect, Yun. Like, my Prince Charming."
"Okay, I wish I went deaf before hearing that," he jokes, two of his sleek fingers pointed at his forehead to mimic a gun, "kill me now, please."
"I wish I could," you huff, biting your lip. "I wish for many things; I wish I could get back with him."
For the first time in a while, you were yearning something else than comfort. Usually, after your breakups, you would call up your best friend and he would try to ease your mind over it, but this time you were craving for your best friend to be with you. Which was highly unlikely considering you both were in different cities, pursuing your undergrad degree. Coming from hometown, you were diaper buddies, born in the same hospital, on the same day, being neighbours and your families being lost long friends. This wasn't sheer coincidence; this was something from the book of fate for best friends.
Best friends. Those two words made your heart bitter. Agreed, when you two were kids, you were really good friends, always at each other's side and having each other's backs. You two were ride or die. Though, along the senior years of your high school, you started to see Yunho in a completely different light. To define it best, you were in love with him. Well, to be fair, love doesn't happen overnight, it takes time; and for you, it had taken eighteen years of your life to make you realise how fucked up you were for him. At times you wonder if he was too. Not that he would say it outright, but over the past years he had gone further and beyond to make you happy.
"No, Liyah! Repeat after me," he leans closer to his screen, the camera noting every detail of him, "I should not give second chances to hubristic dicks."
"I should not give second chances to hubristic dicks." You repeat, deadpanning, however.
"Was that so hard?" he leans back on his chair, adjusting his big headphones overhead and heaving out a breath, "Liyah, you don't deserve a guy like him. All he's ever done is second guess your relationship, judged you for your preferences and has never once respected your opinions."
He rolls back a little on his chair, grabbing his half-eaten snickers bar from the table and taking a good bite of it; he was in his dorm room, wearing a black tank top and jogger shorts. The room was kept dark with the drapes drawn over the windows, you could discern him through the screen only because his table lamp was burning directly onto him. Though, considering the murmured darkness in his room, you could still read the minute details on his face; his soft doe eyes, the hazy brown in them, and his plump lips almost too kissable to resist. The only surprise in his appearance was his hair. He had dyed it to a vivid colour of ashen blue, a complete contrast to his ebony hair you were used to.
"He was a misogynist." Yunho adds, "having such old school thoughts about women, and..." he trails off, "and it was visible in the way he treated you. I would never understand why you even considered dating him. I already told you he was a red flag."
You pout, "maybe because I was bored."
"If you're bored Liyah, maybe play a game or something?" he monotonously replies, satire reeking from him, "don't fall for dicks."
"Yeah, it's easy for you to say because you've never had your heart broken," you retort, "you've broken countless, however. How do you sleep at night?"
"Sound and peaceful, why?" he cocks his one brow up, "look, I haven't found 'the one' yet. A lot of them are pretentious bitches who only care about my dick."
"T-M-I, Yunho." You groan, "and it's quite obvious, girls are going to be after your body."
"Yeah, you think so?" he purposely places his elbows on the table, folding his arms to flex them. "I never caught up on that."
"Eat shit, fucker," you poke your tongue out at him, "no, seriously. You need to find yourself someone who stays longer than the time you take to pull your pants up after sex."
"Jeez, you have a way with your words, and that's really elaborate." He leans back, stretching his arms over his head, his muscles contorting to his command, "tell me, have you done anything stupid yet?"
"What do you mean?" you sound a little guilty.
"Don't fuck with me," he deadpans, keeping a warning tone instead, "you know exactly what I mean. Whenever someone breaks your heart, you plot a revenge story, and it never goes the way you plan them to."
"You're still salty about last time?" you whine, "we both knew it was a mistake. Lesson learnt. But you were my partner in crime, so..."
"Leave it," he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, "I still feel grossed out remembering what we did. You're pretty ruthless, you know that?"
"If he thinks his car is the only love of his life, then he had it coming."
"You wrecked his car beyond repair. You should know guys love their cars." He pouts softly, and you retaliate, "yeah, and you still joined me because you didn't want me to do it alone."
"Of course!" he exclaims, snickering a little, "I wasn't going to stand by and let you ruin your ex's car all alone, he deserved it."
"You are such a dick," you laugh along, "you can't pick a side, can you? Okay. Jokes apart. I'm not planning anything crazy this time. I'm far too old for that. Besides, I have assignments due before our summer break starts. So, guess what? I'm stuck typing hundred words per minute."
"You are stressed out," he mumbles, leaning on the table with his elbow and then resting his chin on his hand; he sighs, dazed by you. "Is that why I can see frown lines on your forehead? They're so prominent, ugh."
"What, really?" you unconsciously touch your forehead, worried. "Haha, very funny."
"Hey, I'm trying my best to ease your tension out." He shrugs.
You roll your eyes, adjusting your wired earbuds before looking away; grabbing your glass of strawberry smoothie, you peer further off the window in front of you. While you were busy studying the passersby on the promenade of your campus, Yunho was busy studying you. Mellow silence fills your ears for the time being he was staring at you, staring your hazel eyes melting away into sheer exultation as you sipped your drink. He always found you quite alluring. The way you'd scrunch your nose when you liked something, the way your cheeks would pop out when you smiled, and the way you'd get so easily flustered by compliments; every little thing about you was etched in my mind, almost ingrained.
Yunho continues to let his eyes linger on you, adoring your eyes and your lips; admiring the way you were sitting alone, tugging at the straps of your camisole in an attempt to keep them in place. He had never noticed you for your appearance or your vanity, he only saw you for your smile, your silly habits and your captivating personality. So, when he was quite engrossed in ogling your face, it weighed on him how badly he had fallen for you.
"What, cat got your tongue?" you mock, putting your glass down and letting it clink against the table. Pulling out the claw clip from your hair, you let it fall on your shoulders.
"No, I was just thinking."
"What?"
"That I gotta stop engaging myself with you and your shenanigans."
You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time, and he grins, "I'm joking. I wanted to ask you something."
"Go on."
"What are your plans over the summer break?" he asks, genuinely appearing curious as his brows fold up.
"I haven't given it much thought," you mutter, running hand through your hair, "I was thinking of applying for a full-time job or something."
With a subtle tug of your shoulder, you heave out a sigh and shake your head. Although, you had pretty much no motivation to think about your leisure holidays in front of you because you were too depressed about your breakup. You wouldn't say 'your now ex' was truly the one for you, but you were most definitely dwelling on the fact that you're going to have to be alone while your lifelong crush flirts with other women. That's the sad reality of unrequited love. You're deep into your thoughts, delving even deeper into your notions of your ex-boyfriend and your crush, seeming to shut out everyone around you. Yunho too.
"Liyah, are you listening to me?"
You snap back to reality, lips trembling and eyes quickly falling onto Yunho's face. "I am."
"Be a better liar, Liyah," he groans, shaking his head, "never mind, I was saying if you have nothing planned for your summer break, you can come back home." He has certainly gotten your attention now. "Well, I am too," he shrugs, "just as a favour to Mingi."
"What, why?" you muse, ruminating about the newly mentioned individual who happened to be your friend too. "You owe Mingi a favour?"
"It's not a bad thing," he pouts, "just volunteering at the summer camp."
"You want me to volunteer too?" you deadpan.
"Yeah," he mumbles, "I could use some company. You know I'm not too fond of the people back home, especially the ones of my age. And then there's unwanted attention from girls."
"Oh, Jesus Christ, Yunho," you monotonously speak, "if you want me to be the lady repellent, you could've said so."
"Not exactly a lady repellent. I'm not trying to soil my chances with Alexis." He smirks, "we've been texting. And let's say there are some details I can't tell you."
"I know," you roll your eyes, "by the way, texting and sexting are two different things. Genius."
"Her body," he mouths, cupping the air in front of his chest.
You narrow your eyes at him.
"Okay, no objectifying," leaning back into the chair, he rests his arms behind his head, "I'm kind of surprised Mingi did not text you regarding the volunteer work."
"We lost touch."
"Really?" he scoffs, "hard to believe considering you two were really close back in the days. Didn't he have a big fat crush on you?"
"It was a teeny tiny one." You state, "besides, we did not interact much after graduation."
The look on Yunho's face tells you he doesn't believe you; not even a bit when you're trying to forget about those days, all the times you were close to this person. Song Mingi was a good friend of yours, you met in middle school and had known each other since then. He's a little goofy and timid, an introvert more likely. Somehow, to your surprise, Yunho and he got along perfectly. For some reason you were worried about that they won't because you thought Yunho would feel left out. He never did. Yunho did not show any sort of disdain towards you making new friends, not even once.
Though, there'd be a time when he'd started showing his bitterness towards Mingi; at that time, you pushed it away, seemingly thinking it was nothing more than playful envy between the two of them. Both of them competed for your attention, considering all was a friendly banter. Until it wasn't. Mingi had a crush on you. Big time. He confessed it to you at the end of your graduation party. You kept Yunho in shadows regarding this fiasco, although it was stifling to not share everything with him as you usually would. That night, you gave Mingi a well thought riposte.
You told him the truth.
You unveiled your deepest secrets to him.
He was quite understanding. Not judgemental at all.
You liked Yunho. Always had.
When Mingi got to know of the truth, he chuckled and said, "I'm not dumb to be so oblivious. But I think he's the real fool to not see it."
You laughed along, stating, "it's been ten years. I'd give it some more time."
Mingi couldn't believe you, "you've liked him for ten years? What, since you were eight?"
You nodded, "come on, it's not that bad. I'll tell him eventually, taking one step at a time. Because, who wants to ruin such a good friendship with him."
Mingi did not say anything later on, he only wished you luck and pecked your cheek. The night was absolutely beautiful, somewhat schematic due to your realisation. If you don't confess soon, you'll be stuck with someone who's not him. And it goes both ways. After graduation, you and Yunho both chose to leave your hometown in search of better opportunities, both having been accepted into colleges cities apart.
If you recall your high school years, you had mentioned it a few times to him, that you'd want to go to the same college as him. But nothing goes as planned, does it? It's been three years since graduation, both of you in your junior years at college, and million miles away. You're grateful to the weekly, or sometimes monthly, FaceTime sessions with him; it gives you a sense of calm and comfort. Well, witnessing the joy on his face, for every little thing, does.
Yunho clears his throat, "what happened that night, Liyah?"
You take a deep breath, dismissing your reminiscent thoughts. "Nothing, really. We talked."
"If you say so." He doesn't believe it at all. "So, what's your answer? Do I see you over the summer break?"
You couldn't resist his sly smile and tempting eyes. "Sure. But I'm only doing it 'cause you forced me to. You definitely owe me one."
"Okay, princess." He rolls his eyes, "I'll see you then. Unfortunately, I have to take my leave now. Got a class today."
"Whatever." You poke your tongue out at him, "see you soon."
The call disconnects and you're all alone in the cafe with your empty glass of smoothie, a few other students and your phone buzzing quietly. You peer over the notifications once the screen lights up, finding texts from Yunho.
Yunho 🐾🐶 do you believe in coincidences?
You why?
Yunho 🐾🐶 mingi texted me he was asking about you seems like someone's not over their crush yet
You leave it, yun
Yunho 🐾🐶 nope see... now you have more than one reason to come back.
You fuck you
Rolling your eyes, you put your phone aside and groan at the situation; flustered, your face heats up and you try to hide the tint of red on your cheeks by laying your head down. Planting on the counter face first, you start pulling your thoughts apart. There's no way your summer break was going to be peaceful, neither here nor there. Though, you could say you were very much determined to confess your feelings to Yunho.
It was just...you were worried it was going to cost you your friendship with him.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
            Summer break was here. The awful heat brought awful dread to the pit of your stomach, because you weren't prepared to meet either of the boys you were apparently close to. If you could put your nonchalant mind to work, you would realise you owe Mingi a relationship, and a draught confession to Yunho. The very sad part of your ordeal was the way you would approach it; you can't be lax with yourself or them, you can't be straightforward either. You had to think it through, whatever that is you had planned.
You were engrossed, immersed in the mindless notions when you park your car in the driveway of your suburban house. How badly had missed this place. The house is still the same, the grey walls, the wooden overhang, the roof tiles, and the aesthetically pleasing front porch stairs. Right beside yours, a meter apart, was Yunho's house. The Victorian style architecture never ceases to impress you, neither does the lush lawn and intricate landscape.
Heat simmers you out as you get out of the car and proceed to grab your bags from the trunk; putting a hand overhead, you try to save yourself from the sun before hastily making your way to the front porch. The overhang provides you with gelid shade, while you fumble with your bags to find the house key under one of the potted plants scattered on the porch. Upon finding it under some dead plant, you put the key in and turn it; the door unlocks and you're pushing past to get inside, your bags following after.
The vestibule, seemingly cooler than the outside, is empty and dark. To your surprise, the entire house is left cloaked in darkness. You slip out of your shoes, heaving out a sigh as the heat starts dissipating, bit by bit. Putting on the house slippers, you lug your bags behind you and come to a halt in the darkened living room; the drapes were pulled over the windows, not letting any lights pass through. You were aware your mom wasn't home; she was at work. But at least she could've left the curtains open, make sure you weren't blinded by the darkness once you come home. There's no point in thinking about your father, as he's usually out of town for work, awfully lot.
Chucking every notion into your mental bin, you stride to the windows and uncover the drapes, pulling them to the side while sunlight filters in. You turn around on your feet and quickly rid yourself of the wispy kimono you had over your body. Once you were out, you slump yourself on the couch and close your eyes. After a three-hour long drive, it was the first time in the day you had felt your skin breathe; however, you could've preferred for the air conditioning to be a little lower in the temperature.
You fish out your phone from the pockets of your shorts, which were stuck to your skin tightly because of the heat. Tugging at the straps of your embroidered camisole, you huff out a few breaths before going through your notifications. No recent texts from your mom, and no replies from Yunho. You had called him in the morning, before leaving your dorm room, informing him of your departure. He was ecstatic, evident in his voice and told you he had arrived a couple of days before you.
There was no need for you to have bittersweet sentiments about him reaching first, but you were somehow least prepared to face him, now that he was before you and gave you no time to think what your first words to him be. You two were meeting after three years, and the last time you remember, you hadn't gone a day without each other. Separation anxiety is a real thing, you thought. After many years of considering it a hoax, you had come to terms with it. Living in a different city without Yunho felt dreadful, a mere struggle till you could stand on your feet and do everything on your own.
Let's say you two relied on each other a lot. A lot.
"No texts?" you groan, opening yours and Yunho's chats. "You gotta be some kind of dick to ignore me..." sulking, you sink further back into the couch and rest your head against the edge. "Ahh..." you sigh, out of sheer spite and boredom.
You close your eyes again, not wanting to stare at the bland and vapid ceiling; the thought of you meeting your best friend after three years, swirls in your head. It's gonna be easy right? No awkwardness, no silences, and no teasing. Right? You have been FaceTiming each other, anyway, don't know why you have to be so worried about it. Perhaps, you were nervous to see him after a long time, only because you had confessions to make.
Lost in the vastness of your inklings, you don't perceive many things in your surroundings, especially the muffled footsteps ascending to your back. Your body flinches when a pair of hands grab your shoulders, eyes wide and on an alert; but your view is constrained to a dark silhouette covering its face with a purge mask.
"Gotcha!"
"Fuck!" you scream, managing to slip out of the person's grip and getting off the couch.
You've not even composed yourself when you hear a raspy voice rumble from behind the couch; from the apparent person standing behind it, clutching onto its stomach and throwing his head back in laughter.
"Oh my goodness," the all too familiar voice echos in your head, "you should've seen your face, Liyah."
When the dense vibrations of his laughter come to a halt, he whips off the mask from his face, revealing his fading ashen hair stuck to his forehead. Yunho smirks at you, flicking the mask on the couch before walking around to drop down on it. He takes a breath of air, perhaps tired from all the laughter while you narrow your eyes at him, your arms over your chest.
You're watching him with amusement; maybe it was the epicurean sense of your gaze, 'cause you couldn't help but drool at the man he had become. Yeah yeah, it sounds weird to you too. Maybe, spending three years away from each other had numbed your senses. Even after all the FaceTime sessions, you were erratically attracted to him; his toned body and how it was hidden beneath an oversized graphic tee and denim jeans. The most endearing thing about him, his shirt having a handwritten typography spelling out 'smile, zero worries'. That is definitely his personality.
"Not funny, jerk face."
"Oh, it really was," he chuckles, shrugging off his black leather jacket and letting it hang over the armrest of the couch. "Your face was worth going through all the trouble to find this mask in my attic. Too bad I did not have a camera on me."
"Is this how you welcome me back? By petty pranks?"
He shrugs his shoulders, letting his head fall back, "I had many things planned for your welcome; guess my efforts fell short. I'm not as lively as I used to be before."
"I'm glad you aren't," you grumble, going to pick up your bags when Yunho quickly scrambles on his feet and picks them up for you. "Woah, what a gentleman."
"Snark all you want; I know you love me." He snides, holding two of your bags in either of his hands, "to your room, then?"
You shake your head and roll your eyes, taking the lead as you walk down the hallway. As the hallway curves to a corner, the stairs begin and you take one step at a time, Yunho hauling the bags behind you.
"Would it be stupid if I asked you how you got in?" you mumble, calling to him.
Yunho heaves a murmured chortle, "babes, the balcony of your room opens right into mine. All I had to do was take a leap of faith. Literally."
"That's trespassing, I'll have you behind the bars," you retort.
"Aww, then wouldn't you miss me too much?" he pouts, "I got to jail, you lose a best friend and die alone."
"Pretty elaborate," you continue walking up the stairs, quite leisurely to keep the conversation between you two going, "I'm not dying alone. We made a deal, remember?"
"Right, we were born together, we will die together." He sighs, "we made a lot of hollow promises back then, did we not?"
The two of you are at the top of the stairs, you've stopped in your steps while he's standing next to you. Either of your eyes bore into each other's, searching for the verity of your so-called promises and pacts you had made when you were kids. It's all fun and games when you're kids, when you don't even think with a fraction of your mind and believe every word you say is genuine and candid. You and Yunho had your own sets of bargains ready by the age of fourteen; you were silly then, to consider yourself making covenants with your best friend about every little thing.
Not married till 30? You were going to marry each other.
No first kiss in your teens? You were going to be each other's firsts. And that applied to everything.
These were some of them, but the thought of being each other's first was a wild one. Luckily, you both had your first kiss at the age of sixteen; it was memorable for you, but terrible for Yunho as he remembers the girl he liked was only using him to make her ex jealous. It's all in the past. You're both twenty something now: twenty-one, one year away from graduating college. Of course, things, situations, conflicts, have taken turns for the better.
At the top of the stairs, it's just you and him, lost in the translation of the language your eyes spoke. What were you even trying to convey? Biting your lip, blinking uncontrollably while your heart pounds in your chest, too hard for you to think it would drop down to your gut. Maybe you were taking an apprehensive approach to your dynamic with him, because once it shifts, you know there's no going back.
Yunho clears his throat, looking away from you and stepping forward, "your bags are really heavy. What do you have in these?"
Your body shudders softly, squeaking at the absence of him next to you. "Just clothes."
"How many pairs did you get?"
"Not many..." you weren't sure if you were making sense to yourself, because you hadn't quite snapped out of your trance yet.
The little stare down at the top of the stairs was a homebound reverie to you. It put you in a deep state of cognisance, fulfilling your heart's desire because you were now persuaded by your stupid self to believe you had fallen in love with him. The soulmate type of love. Was it? It had to be. Because no one knows you like he does. Knowing every crack and crevice in your soul, knowing every little detail about you, remembering it, ingraining in his memory; he had to be in love with you, too. Right? It only made sense.
Yunho's long gone from your point of vision, and you're still stuck to the floor, contemplating, musing, or ruminating. No matter how you made overtures to your thinking, there was no way you'd think he reciprocates your feelings. Maybe it's too much wishful thinking. Has to be.
"Liyah, where the fuck are you?" he playfully calls out to you, his deep voice breaking you apart.
You shake your head and promenade down the narrow hallway once it the main structure branches into two; your house was like a labyrinth of hallways, and you'd find yourself lost in the maze at times. You don't know how Yunho remembers everything, but maybe it's habitual for him to remember, as much as you do for his house. Walking in your room, you find Yunho closing the balcony doors he had left open.
"No thoughts. Clear mind." You mumble to yourself before trudging further inside.
Yunho, alerted by your presence, turns around and offers you a smile. That goddamn smile. The one which shines brighter than the moon and the stars, heck, it would even put them to shame. His smile brought butterflies to your stomach, and the familiar feelings started bubbling under your skin. You were fucked.
Well, you might want to hold onto that thought just yet.
You're left to act on your instincts when he prances towards you and wraps your little frame in a bone crushing hug. He missed you. Clearly. His arms are tight and snug around your shoulders, his head tilting down to rest his chin on yours; your height difference gave him the biggest advantage ever, towering over you like a giant teddy bear. He was soft, and warm, comforting to you. Maybe why you did not think twice before hugging him back as tight as you could; you bury your head in his chest, inhaling his scent which was long lost in the virtual reality of FaceTimes. You missed him too. A lot.
Yunho always smelled like a sybaritic man, someone who'd be addicted to the life of luxury and pleasure. It was too sensual for you and your senses. Imagine, hugging your best friend who's basically sex on a stick. Yeah, your hormones were going crazy. Downtown crazy. You pull back from his embrace before you could feel yourself dripping in carnality by only inhaling the heart notes of his scent and step aside to fall onto your bed.
Not much was spoken. Not when you had practically snatched yourself out of his hold and flumped on the bed. Yunho doesn't bother saying anything to you, only maybe, he finds it better to just lay next to you on the bed. You prop yourself up by your elbows and turn your head to look at him; he was resting against the headboard with his head tilted to a side while his eyes remained fixed on you. There's a frail curl on his lips. And you wonder what it was about.
"I really needed that hug, thanks." You speak up, turning on your side and letting your head fall on the mattress; you still peeked at him.
Yunho couldn't bear the sight of you, innocently looking up at him through your lashes. He couldn't really help it either because your scent had put him in a daze of the past years, the reminiscent years of him stealing sniffs of you to realise how alluring your scent was. You always smelled luscious to him, having the hints of strawberry and coconut to your skin, your hair, and your lips even; he didn't know when he was addicted to you.
"Because of the breakup?" he asks, grabbing the fluffy pillow from next to him and hugging it close to his chest.
"Because I saw him again, before coming here," you blurt, "I wasn't ready for a confrontation. He approached me, already decided to win me back."
"What did you say to him?"
"I couldn't say anything," you mumble, "like words disintegrated on my tongue. I was blank. My heart desired to say one thing but my mind refrained from saying anything at all."
"You really weren't ready to see him," he snickers, "it speaks for the better of you, doesn't it?
"That I don't need him like I used to before?"
"You're growing independent," he points, "he never was the right choice for you, yet you let him get to the deepest parts of you. Liyah, don't make the mistake of going back to him. Find yourself a better man."
"I'm trying to," you sound despondent to him and he suggests, "there's not much time for the night to dawn over. I'll cook something for you and set up the rooftop, like the old times."
You sit up straighter, narrowing your eyes at him while your lower lip tugs down. "I don't trust you in the kitchen. Leave the cooking to me. You go set up the rooftop."
"You're leaving the hard part for me," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But you know what I like right?"
"Lasagna? Mac and cheese? Jajangmyeon?" you list, pulling yourself out of the bed and staring at him, "I'm whipping up something easy. Too lazy to do go all culinary mode."
He gets out of the bed too, rolling his eyes at you before putting the pillow down. "Just make some P-B-and-J."
"We're not in middle school anymore," you state, already turning on your heels to exit the room. "I'll make some pasta."
"Whatever you want," he shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to walk to the balcony.
"I'll be back soon. Be careful upstairs."
"Don't worry, okay? I've done it countless times before. I'll be fine."
You nod and head downstairs to the kitchen. However, light on your feet, you were shaking with anticipation. Maybe this could be an opportunity to confess? It has to be right? Why else would he suggest it? You know your rooftop rendezvous have always been romantic; what's anti romantic about rooftop dinners? Nothing. Nothing compares to eating under the moonlight with the one you can rely on. It has been a long-time tradition for the two of you. The moment either of you spiralled down the road of depression or anxiety, you'd be up on the rooftop, looking at the stars.
In the kitchen, you're drifting around like a giant cloud, working yourself up to prepare good food for both of you. This is where you in a slump, thinking of easy ways to whip up something delicious. Given, you also had to consider the limited source of ingredients you have in the refrigerator. You're way too over your head, pondering. What if you make something disappointing? What if he doesn't like what you make? You're practically scratching the back of your neck, standing still in front of the closed refrigerator with thoughts circling around one thing; what to make.
Amidst the dense tranquility of the house, you groan out softly and pull the door of the refrigerator. Opening it, you find nothing of useful. This is atrocious. You're contemplating, deranged by the extremities of your mind, you have half a heart made up to prepare peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as he had suggested. But that is too basic. Is that what you would want to feed the man you had been in love with? Probably not.
Your dismayed conscience doesn't let you rest for even a second, immensely saturated on outdated thoughts and emotions; the noise in your head is quite louder than the affable footsteps resonating across the kitchen. It was when a warm hand had engulfed your shoulder bone, then you were brought to your reality with Yunho standing next to you. His face was shrouded with despair yet the desperate shine of the sinking sun had lighten up his eyes; he seemed to be in a melancholic state, lips jutting out. The warmth of his hand slips down your shoulder, alerting you somehow.
"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, closing the refrigerator door.
He stood adjacent to the window, his ashen hair appearing as a cerulean tuft of sea, his face cherishing the golden glow. Was it possible for him to be any more attractive than he already is?
"I nicked my finger," he mutters, glancing down.
Your eyes trail along his, witnessing the alarming cut on his pinky finger. It was a long gash, deep even; why else would there be rivulets of blood cascading down his skin? Panic stricken, you hold his hand on yours, both of your palms cupped his hand to pull him closer to you. The contrasting shade of blood against his pale skin was terrifying, not as much, but it was genuinely intimidating. More blood oozes out when you bring his hand under your sharp gaze to inspect.
"How can you be so clumsy, Yunho?" you half-yell, half-question him, nibbling on your lower lip.
"I was careful, okay? I don't know how I cut myself; probably on the roof tile or something, I don't know," he explains, exasperated.
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
"I don't see..." you tilt his hand in a way to catch it under the dimming light of the sun coming through the window. "There isn't anything stuck in the cut."
He stays quiet, watching you, leaning over your petite body to wonder what you had been observing for long; it was certainly disporting to him, how you were so keen on studying the little slash on his skin, rather than his eyes which had been speaking to you for years. Absolutely ridiculous. He knows how you were, how eye contact always brought you a sense of unease and discomfort. And maybe holding a serious stare down with him might have been too heavy on your heart, because he even knows how desperately it hammered in your chest.
Biting down on his lower lip, Yunho refrains every strain in his muscles to lift up your chin and kiss your lips right there and then. He had been eager to taste them, always was. You have no idea how dire his yearning is, how avidly he dreams to be with you. In a broader perspective, he understands when to wear his heart on his sleeve and make it obvious to you. And for the time being, he hadn't found the perfect moment to. Not when you were used to relying on him for comfort every time you had a break up. He might not show it, but he absolutely despised all your ex boyfriends, he was jealous too. And listening to your tales of how they treated you, he certainly felt his blood boil. You deserved nothing but queen treatment, and none of your past ventures were treating you like the queen you are.
There's a stifling ache in Yunho's heart, burning all the way to his throat till he's suffocating in the silence he created.
"Come here," you softly tug at his hand, bringing him to the sink, "we'll get this washed first and later we can treat it."
Your attention is focused on his bleeding hand, which showed no signs of stopping any soon. Turning the tap on, you keep his hand under the running water and while the water splashes through, the cut becomes cleaner and devoid of blood. Regardless, it doesn't stop the bleeding.
"Okay, it won't stop bleeding," you grumble, hastily turning the tap off. "What were you thinking, Yunho? How can you be so careless? Oh geez..."
"Hey, it's not that bad, come on." He tries to reassure you, "just slap on a bandaid and it'll be fine."
"It's not going to be fine!" you yell at him, "look at your hand, its like a faucet right now. How do you think a bandaid can stop this?"
You had given your rational and calm thinking to the anxiety; not understanding what to do, you take a step back and stare at him. Helpless. That's what you felt, over a little cut on his finger which won't stop bleeding.
"You're panicking for no reason, Liyah." He sighs, bringing his hand close to his face, "think with a clear mind. Do you have any turmeric with you?"
You nod your head, remembering there's a small jar of turmeric in the back of your condiments cabinet. Quick on your feet, you rush to the cabinet and raise yourself on your tippy toes to open it; once opening it, you scour through it and grab the bottle of turmeric.
"Okay, and?" you stand in front of him, holding the bottle tightly in your hand.
"Take some out and press it gently on my cut," he murmurs, offering you an encouraging smile.
You do as he says, pinching out a little bit of turmeric and pressing it lightly against the cut. The yellow condiment clots with the blood, ceasing the bleed in mere seconds; his hand was still streaked crimson, which was starting to dry on his skin. You should probably tell him to wash it before it leaves a taint behind, but you're too riveted by his hazy smile to let that thought come across your tongue. However what does come to your mind is to bash him for his stupidity.
Taking a breath of relief, you stare at him and groan, "you stupid little jerk! What if it had been serious than that? God..."
"Yeah, even in those circumstances you need to be levelheaded. Panicking won't bring you much satisfaction." He whines, "you wouldn't last a day in nursing school."
You poke your tongue out at him, "I don't need to."
"Silly goose," he mutters under his breath and rolls his eyes.
You were growing too fond of the current situation to retaliate in any way. How often did you get the opportunity to hold his hand? Considering you were best friends there were countless opportunities where you had the chance to. But this was different. Very different from the old times; you were alluded by his eyes to even move away from him. It's not very often that you get caught up like this, with a setting sun, a beautiful gradient of orange and red covering your faces in its sheer glow, and the dithered proximity of nothingness.
Minutes drag by in silence, you didn't want to be the first who moves back, and he didn't want to either. Sullen by the growing darkness, as the sun departs and calls out to the moon to illuminate the world, you're forced to take a step back. You clear your throat, dropping your hands to your side at first, then you timidly tug a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear.
"It's good to know that you care so much," he blurts out of nowhere, heaving out a breath thereafter, "but you really don't need to worry so much about me. Save that worry for someone who actually deserves it."
"Are you saying, you don't?" you prompt, glancing down at the floor; as the moonlight breaks through the window, you're struck by your inviting silhouettes stretching on the floor.
"I'm not," he whispers, "I don't deserve all of it."
"Oh," you drawl, "you don't have to be such a saint, Yunho. I know my heart."
He takes a step closer to you, "so your heart says to worry about me all the time? Does it grieve when I'm in pain? Does it know what my heart feels?"
"Why are you being so difficult to reason with right now?" you muse, wanting to run away from him, because he had taken another step closer to you, "Liyah, do you even know what..."
"It doesn't matter," you shake your head, suffocated by the closeness between you two. "Your wound's better now. I'll make something easy and meet you upstairs. Just—just carry the six pack with you."
Yunho had something to say, but he suppresses every bit of him and watches you head over to the refrigerator. He stands by your side when you pick up the six pack from the refrigerator; without making a sound, he takes it from your hand and leaves you stranded in the kitchen. There you are, alone in the dark with your gruelling afterthoughts on your outburst. Could it even be termed as an outburst?
Whilst you're closing the refrigerator door, your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your shorts. When you bring it out, you're not surprised to receive several texts from your mom.
Mom 🦋🩵 hey i know its really rude of me to keep you alone and you're just back from college... but i dont think i can make it home early i'll try to get out of here as soon as i can though till then, just spend your time with yunho I'm assuming he's still there see you soon, bby lol
You need to tell her that L-O-L means something else; no one uses it to abbreviate "lots of love" anymore. Stifling a laugh, you urge out a groan because now things were about to get even more awkward between you and Yunho. If at least your mom had been here with you, she would've kept you in loop and not made it seem so awkward.
The fate was on your side to ruin your relationship with him, it seems. Because there's no way you would be able to confess your feelings now. Not that you know he doesn't really care or reciprocate to them. How pathetic. You had been hoping for everything to surf the smooth waves, but in reality it was all crashing down like the high tides in the ocean. Could you really see yourself falling into the deep sea, where barren waters are symbolic of your love for him? You weren't sure anymore.
As the night dwindles along with uncertain time, you are making your way upstairs to your room; the way to the rooftop was through your balcony, a short ladder adhered to the adjacent wall which lead up to a plain space amidst the conceding panels of your roof. It was only a flat surface with meagre space, the centre was covered with cozy picnic blanket. Yunho sat by himself, legs crossed and knees to his chest; he stared up at the sky, looking at the array of glimmering stars. His hair moved with the air, the frisky night breeze playing with him and leaving behind tender caresses against his face.
He grows aware of your presence, as you come to sit down next to him. Placing the plate of food between you two, you bring your knees to your chest as well and stare up at the sky; you were mimicking him, his details. A while goes in silence when he sighs and turns to you, his eyes linger on yours before glancing down at the plate between you two.
"P-B-and-Js?" he muses, letting his lips curl by a corner. "Someone settled for easy."
You roll your eyes, "do you want it or not?"
"Of course," he mumbles, picking up a piece from the plate before taking a bite of it. Amidst all, he hands you a beer from the six pack, "you need to catch up with me."
As you take the bottle from his hand, he waves his own, having held it in his other hand; the bottle had been half-empty, impatiently guzzled. You're muddled as you stare at the crown of the bottle, not knowing how to remove it. Yunho breathes out, expressing his annoyance playfully before snatching the bottle out of your hand and giving you his to hold.
"No problemo," he teases, fishing out his car keys from his jeans and propping it right under the crown; with one simple tug, the crown flies off and falls down, leaving the beer to bubble up. "There you go, ma'am."
"Thank you," you mock, taking the bottle from his hand and giving his back. "You have nice tricks up your sleeve."
"Oh, you don't know..." as he trails off, silence settles between you two.
In the ambiguous nightfall, you two are brooding over little things of your life; the past where neither of you had made it obvious you had a thing for each other. Maybe, you did. You made it so obvious for him to catch up on the hints. But Yunho being Yunho, never got around them. In this solitude of quietness, you wonder if you could speak your heart to him. If you could let go of what shackles you and set your heart free. You wanted to tell him everything, what, how and why.
"Stars bring you a sense of wonder, don't they?" he speaks up, glancing at you before looking back up at the stars.
"I believe they remind me how small we are in the vastness of creation, in the space, in the deliberate cosmos," you mumble, biting your lower lip as you take a sip of your beer. "Why do you ask?"
"I don't know," he shrugs lightly, "maybe I'm questioning our existence amid the macrocosm. Or, perhaps I am looking for more profound definitions to our bond."
"We're friends, Yunho," you whisper, wispy and breathless, "we have been close to each other since we could remember."
"What if our destiny had been written in the stars?" he questions, turning fully towards you. "It's not coincidental for us to have everything so perfectly arranged; the stars had to do something with our fates. To intertwine them, to make them..."
You don't say a word, whiling in the serenity of arrant obscurity. The light booze was bitter on your tongue, but not as bitter as the words you had trapped.
"Are you instigating something, Yunho?" you guzzle a good amount of beer before picking out a piece of sandwich.
"Maybe I am," his eyes were fixated on you, reading every minute movement, "do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
You turn to face him, mouth full with the bite of sandwich you took, and your eyes seemingly teary. There's something in the way he was looking at you, plump lips trembling in an attempt to get the remaining words out of his mouth, but he did not make a sound. You were too eager to hear him speak; continue with the conundrum he had brought up.
Was he the one confessing?
Was he the first to do so?
So, he does reciprocate your feelings, doesn't he?
"Liyah, I—"
Ping! Ping! Ping!
Your phone rings out loud, alerting you of the incoming texts; you flinch, pulling yourself away from Yunho and taking your phone out from the pocket of your shorts. Caught in a daze, you read the texts you had received.
Song Mingi.
What did he want now?
You open your chats with him and go through the texts.
Mingi 🎀 hey! heard you're back in town why didn't you call me? anyway, since you're back are you free right now? the couple of us are going cliff diving you know, by the abandoned railway line let me know you're in san gets cranky when he doesn't have a total headcount. :)
You quickly reply back to him.
You sure! who else is gonna be there?
You get an immediate response from him.
Mingi 🎀 san, me, alexis, chris felix and jiyeon maybe and yunho... he's with you right? can you ask him? i texted him hours ago he hasn't responded yet
You glance at Yunho and then back at your blaring screen; though, you weren't feeling all too well noticing Yunho shift his attention from you to the stars.
You i'll drag him with me if I have to don't worry we'll be there where do we meet?
Mingi 🎀 oh, everyone's bringing their own cars so i think it's better if we meet directly at the spot leave soon! we're already on our way there. see you shortly bye xoxo
You alright!
You put your phone back inside your pocket, and then proceed to put the half-eaten sandwich back in the plate; tapping Yunho's shoulder lightly, you get his attention.
"Who was it?" he asks, taking a swig of his beer.
"Mingi," you add, "he's invited us to cliff diving." You gulp the remaining bit of your beer and wince, "where's your phone? He's complaining that you aren't paying him enough attention."
"Ah, that dick," he curses under his breath and hastily pulls out his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "My phone has been on silent from the morning."
He goes through his text messages while you finish your beer and place the empty bottle down. "Did you say yes to that?"
"Yeah, why not?" you shrug, "cliff diving sounds really fun. Come on, we should leave already."
Getting on your feet carefully, you dust your the back of shorts unconsciously and as you are about to leave, Yunho sneaks up from behind. One hand on your shoulder, other holding the bottle of beer, he takes a gulp of the drink before murmuring, "are you sure you want to go? It won't be awkward for you with Mingi there?"
You chuckle, "Mingi and I are okay. We're out of the awkward phase."
"Alright," he murmurs and finishes his beer.
Dropping his hand from your shoulder, he follows you back downstairs; the six pack and plate of food are still lying on the rooftop, while the two of you are in the living room. Yunho picks up his abandoned jacket from the couch's armrest and shrugs it on. You do the same, draping the kimono on your shoulders, the one you had taken off after coming home. Meeting with the chilly air outside, you walk to your car parked in the driveway, but Yunho stops you.
"Let's take my car," he suggests, nudging his head in the direction of his house.
"Fine by me." You shrug and pout, finding no harm in the suggestion.
On the way over to his house, Yunho pulls you close to his side by hooking his arm around your shoulder. Your feet fall in synch as you take long strides together; past the broad metal gates of his house, you're strolling on the yellow bricked promenade surrounded by lush bushes, seemingly of flowers which release their heavenly scent at night. The night bloomers, if that thing even exists. You're swayed to the musky undertones of Yunho's scent and the mirth of the grass, not understanding what was happening in your heart or your mind.
For one moment you and Yunho are on the brink of confessing your feelings for each other and the next you're taking a step back and pretending to be okay. Does that even make sense to you? Because it wouldn't make sense to anyone else.
Yunho rubs circles on your shoulders, rubbing his hand thereafter. "It seems like we have a lot of unresolved things to talk about. We'll deal with them later, right?"
You nod, humming along. "Maybe those things don't need resolving. Maybe we just need to be upfront."
"Maybe we do." He mumbles under his breath and once you've gotten close to the garage, he lets go of you.
Standing at a distance, you hug yourself to prevent the cold from seeping in your heart. The gelid breeze of the night is known to be exuberant. You wait for Yunho to bring the car outside, somewhat lost in the meagre revels this night has to offer. The roar of a car's engine reverberates, snapping you out of your reverie to find yourself staring at Yunho's car. He flashes you a worried look before nudging his head at you; taking the sign, you hasten yourself to settle in the passenger's seat.
"You're zoning out awfully lot, Liyah," Yunho states while you buckle yourself in. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Yunho," you assure him, slightly irked by his constant worry. "Let's go, we don't want to make them wait."
Yunho sighs, as if he had given up on you, "okay."
The drive is lot quieter than it would've been if you hadn't ticked off Yunho. Well to say in the least, you both were not in the mood to speak anything at all. The radio was too loud any way, you did not need the silence to be filled with useless babbles. You're staring out of the window, watching the trees pass you by as the night approaches a new beginning. Distant landscapes of open fields and mountains soon disintegrate to a dense forest; the valley starts off from this point on, where the abandoned railway bridge levitates over a lake.
When you find the cluster of cars parked in a small open space, Yunho slows down and pulls his own in line. Killing the engine, he gets the keys out and unlocks the doors. You get out without hesitation or even waiting for Yunho. The nightly air carries a sublime scent of earth and sod, while you're hugging your chest and straying away from Yunho. You could hear the distant chatters accompanied by laughter.
The trees only start growing in number, forming thickets and engulfing everything in their darkness. You find your group of friends standing under a giant elm tree; there were exactly the people who Mingi had mentioned before. San, Chris, Felix, Alexis and Jiyeon, engaged in a conversation led by Mingi. They're standing in a circle, dispersed away from each other; San and Chris had a smoke in between their lips, it made sense why the others maintained distance from them.
Your feet crunch on the dried foliage, hailing their attentions to you as you walk past to stand next to Mingi. The pink haired man offers you a small smile, a curve soon vanishing as he glances in your direction to find Yunho swaying along. Mingi doesn't wait until his best friend is closer to him, he sprints in enthusiasm and hugs the man he had been waiting for. The two share a gripping embrace, while the others engage with you.
To say you missed them, it would be an understatement. All of the ones present here, except for Mingi, left the town to find better opportunities for themselves. Everyone is in different cities now, some studying, some having full time jobs. Your eyes lurk around, rummaging from face to face. San hasn't changed a bit, he was still the guy who loved to dress in all black; he wore a black shirt and black pants, heavy platforms on his feet while his tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. Chris and Felix had a contrasting appearance to them from the last time you had seen them; Chris has gotten buff and toned, his arms bulging and flexing under the cutout shirt he wore, even his thighs were insanely toned under the denim shorts. Felix is still the cute little guy, still wearing his jumpers. Jiyeon is still conservative, having her body covered from head to toe with a maxi dress and as usual, Alexis is being the fashion icon that she is, dressed in chic clothes; a crop top and shorts, exposing as much skin as she could.
"We almost thought you wouldn't come," San begins, blowing out a cloud of white smoke.
Jiyeon follows after, "considering you and Mingi shared that night together, you know the night of our graduation party."
You roll your eyes, slapping your hand on her back as she was on your right, "do you have to bring it up?"
"Yeah, maybe nothing happened between them," Alexis blurts, but then glances at you, "what?"
"Nothing really happened between us." You state.
"Oh, come on, Liyah," Chris says with his thick accent, "everyone has been talking about you two since that night. The town needs gossip."
Felix rolls his eyes, "this town is a deadbeat place, all of us left for a reason."
"Yeah, to seek more opportunities." Mingi crawls back to the circle, Yunho behind him by a few steps. "The town is not a deadbeat town. You guys were obsessed with the idea of leaving."
"Yeah, homie," San chimes, "you stayed back because of your family quarry."
"Do you have any wild animals there?" Jiyeon asks, curiosity peaking in her tone.
"A few bears, a passal of boars, and a herd of antelopes." Mingi puts into words, "the hunting season will start after the summer camp ends."
"Ooh, hunting. Sounds fun," Chris cheers, throwing his burning cigarette down on the ground and stomping on it. "Count me in for that."
"Is it even safe—"
"—hey, Yunho!" Alexis's scream interrupts you, and you watch the said woman leaping into Yunho's arms for an uncalled hug.
Not cool.
Mingi comes to stand next to you, hugging you sideways. It catches you off guard, but you settle into his touch as the seconds pass. Well, you needed it. Because you were bubbling with jealousy as Alexis and Yunho hug. You clear your throat loudly, forcing the two to break their embrace and while they do step back, they start exchanging remarks. Flirty remarks.
Alexis squeezes his arms, "someone's been working out."
Yunho scratches the back of his neck and waves her off. "Not as much working out as lifting manikins for classes."
"You're still doing great," she replies, using her high-pitched giggle. "Speaking of which, how's the college treating you?"
They're lost in a conversation while you're bitterly biting back on your tongue to prevent yourself from cursing someone out. Mingi's arm gets tighter around your shoulder and tugs you close to his body.
You grumble, "she has no reason to stick to him like that."
"And you have no reason to be jealous," San mumbles, interjecting in Mingi's thoughts; he puts out his cigarette by throwing it down and stomping on it.
"He's right," Mingi shrugs, "we know you like Yunho. But he doesn't. There's nothing official between you two, so he's liable for some harmless flirting."
Jiyeon pipes in, "if you ask me, Liyah took too much time to understand her own feelings. You can't be attracted to someone out of nowhere. Either you always are, or you're just blinded by lust."
"Jiyeon makes sense," Felix gives you his two cents, "time waits for none, Liyah. If you had the guts to tell him how you felt on the night of our graduation party...who knows, you might've been together now."
"Why are we yapping, guys?" Chris groans, "Liyah's relationship problems only get worse when they're discussed. We're here to dive. And I don't want to waste my night solving some broken lovers' quarrel."
"I would have to agree with this counterpart," Felix mutters, "before the night gets too dark and ambiguous for us, let's just do what we came here to do."
"See, I told you, no one has any business discussing my issues with Yunho," you grumble, taking a step ahead, "I'm here for a nice swim and nothing else."
Mingi follows in your steps, San and Jiyeon do too; Chris and Felix are behind you all, while Yunho and Alexis are the last ones to be in your pursuit. The walk to the bridge was short, merely spanning for about ten minutes; the railway tracks are buried deep in the count, covered with moss and creepers now. Over the seasons, this place gets denser and thicker, one cannot discern a proper path and might get lost.
The moisture laden air hits your face first, dissipating your jealousy as along the walk you couldn't help but think about Yunho and Alexis at the back, flirting and touching.
Mingi places his hand on your shoulder, "race you to the beams?"
You smirk and spring on your feet, running before he could; the beams were these two broad metal bars holding the front of the bridge, these spanned the entire bridge, adhering and supporting the structure over the water. The rusted beams leave a streak of red on your hand when you touch it, while teasing Mingi with your tongue. Others are right behind you, leisurely strolling.
"Wanna go first?" Mingi asks, pulling his graphic tee over his head and leaving him bare; his body was still drool worthy, having a small crescent moon tattooed on his chest.
He gets out of his pants, exposing himself in snug briefs which outlines his cock all too well. Slipping out of his shoes and socks, he makes sure to not step on any gravel under him. He tugs at the waistband of his briefs, and then extends his hand toward you; patiently waiting for you to take it in yours.
You smile at him, smugly. Ridding yourself off your sandals, kimono, camisole, and your shorts, you stand next to him partially naked. Ignoring the low sounding whistles directed at you, it was probably Chris or someone else; although, you were hoping Yunho had caught up on you and your figure, that is if he wasn't busy entertaining Alexis. It was a good day to choose matching lacy underwear, the material flimsy and a little see-through to show off how beautiful your body is. Wind cuts to your skin, suddenly feeling cold; you take Mingi's hand in yours and he leads along the track. In the moment, you're least bothered about the others, only focusing on your hand laced with Mingi's.
He guides you over a wide barricade, making you take a short leap before you're carefully tiptoeing on the narrow edge hanging over the large water body. Your heart palpitates in your chest, falling into your gut as the adrenaline kicks in. The distance between the bridge and the lake aren't much, just enough for your body to spiral down into the depth; around 25 feet maybe.
Mingi squeezes your hand tightly, getting your attention. "On the count of three."
You nod.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
As the last count echos in your mind, you jump. The support from beneath your feet slipping off, now an empty void of anticipation; you're falling down with Mingi, wind brushing against your body to resist the fall. In the whiling seconds, you come in contact with the frigid barrier of water, then your body submerges inside. Water envelopes you all around, burying you in splintering waves of coldness. You hadn't realised when your hand had slipped off of Mingi's grip, not that it mattered now. Cold currents bubble around you when you swim up to the surface, finding Mingi only a few meters away from you.
Your wet hair sticks close to your skin and face, framing along your cheeks as you try to push away most of it from your eyes. Mingi's hair is in the same condition; he adorns a wide smile on his lips, eyes blinking away the remaining water while he swims closer to you. The warmth of his body captures yours in a gentle touch, arms entwined in your waist, and his face only inches away.
You're laughing, giggling, the sound itself mellifluous to his ears. Clinging onto him, he somehow manages to keep the two of you afloat. In your unconscious state, you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing yourself into his chest.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks you, rubbing his thumbs into the small of your back.
"Making Yunho jealous?"
He juts his lower lip out. "If you're comfortable with it."
"I think we're already making him jealous."
You glance over your shoulder, tilting your head to look up above; the vast distance doesn't let you discern anything happening on the bridge, yet it brings you a new high of exhilaration thinking about making Yunho envious of you and Mingi. A few more minutes pass and Mingi swims both of you away from the point of impact. More chaos is heard above on the bridge, and with your curiosity bursting apart at the seams, you glance up again to find two silhouettes jumping down.
Splash!
The water around them makes a big splatter, creating waves along the way; when the two shirtless figures resurface, you catch a glint of Chris's lip ring and a glimpse of Felix's blond hair. The two of them are quick to swim toward you two, their laughter echoing across the silent cosmos of forest and the night.
"Fuck, that was incredible," Chris remarks, brushing his hair away from his face.
"Agreed," Felix adds, a little out of breath.
Mingi holds you tighter to him and you realise he had started to lose his hold on you. "I think me and Liyah are going to swim to the shore."
"Yeah, wait for us. I don't think I have enough guts to do this a second time," Felix sputters, spitting out a mouthful of water.
"You're no fun, Felix." Chris comments, and he's interrupted by couple of yells.
Jiyeon and San were next, followed by Yunho and Alexis when a long beat passes; you were still strapped to Mingi's waist, and realising you had been weighing him down, you take the effort to push yourself off of him and remain solitary. Even so, Mingi stays close by you, trying to support you to stay afloat. Water sloshes even more when Jiyeon and San join you all. Jiyeon comes up for air, coughing out water and slicking her hair back; San is right behind her, snickering deeply as though he was enjoying himself.
"I am never letting you guys talk me into anything like this!" Jiyeon complains, her hair clinging to her face.
San heaves out a chuckle, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down in the water. Jiyeon is taken off guard, and as she comes back on the surface, courtesy of San to pull her back up, she gasps for air, panting and coughing.
"You're—you're fucking dead Choi San." She aims a punch at him, and it lands perfectly against his shoulder.
"What, it was fun! You should step out of your comfort zone more often, Ji." San dodges a couple of punches until she stops; Jiyeon was shivering.
Yunho and Alexis were swimming side by side, listening to the two make a chaos. Your eyes had never left Yunho in that moment, the second he and Alexis resurfaced, you couldn't stop staring at him. Shirtless, his skin glimmered against the moonlight, the water coated his skin in a thin sheet while his ashen blue hair was drenched and stuck to his forehead. He tries to pick at a few strands, pushing them away to expose his forehead. Panting softly, he lets a smile stretch his lips. Though when his eyes landing on you and Mingi, his smile disappears.
"Don't tease her, Sannie," Alexis groans, "if you like her so much, just be straightforward. All the teasing is too old school."
Jiyeon's cheeks turn red, striking vividly under the moonlight. "Shut up, Alexis."
"Maybe she has a point," Yunho adds, "the teasing and mocking tactic is useless with girls now. They need men who are more candid."
Chris chortles, "we all know how straightforward you've been, Yun. Maybe a little too much to have a reputation around high school."
"Oh please," Yunho retorts, laughing along with him, "girls practically threw themselves at me, then."
"And you were a man with principles to not let their efforts be vain." Mingi mumbles, nonchalantly.
"Come on, guys," you chime in, a smile curling your lips, "we all know who had a reputation in high school. So, pinpointing Yunho isn't proving anything. Especially you, Chris."
"Miss congeniality is at her man's rescue again." Chris replies, rolling his eyes at you.
"Hey, leave it, Chris." Yunho speaks up, leaning back into the water, "it's a beautiful night, why ruin it on something so trivial. Let's put our differences aside for a night, huh?"
Mingi agrees, "yeah, I'm with him on this. We're all seeing each other after what, months? Weeks? Years? It'd be stupid to argue anyway."
"I think the bonding can happen out of the water too, because I'm not staying in here for a long time," you add, and earn a couple of hums in response; Alexis, Jiyeon and Felix had agreed to you.
And to your unbridled surprise, they are the first ones to swim towards the shore. There isn't much distance between you and the shore. From your better judgement, it must be, give or take, 10 metres from where you were. Hurtling a soft squeak, you begin swimming away from your group of friends. Mingi is right next to you, paddling through the water; when the water starts shallowing you out, you know you've reached the grimly edge of the landmass extending into the lake. You pace yourself and get on your feet, skimming over the washed borderline and stepping on the gravel.
"Definitely refreshing." You remark, smiling at Mingi who's walking out of the water.
"What else would you need on a summer night?" he chortles, stretching his arms over his head, "do you wanna go again?"
"I wish," you sigh, shuffling your hair to get some water out, "I don't want to catch a cold."
"Understandable," he mutters.
"I'm never trusting you ever again, Mingi." Jiyeon scoffs, "this was dangerous. Way dangerous. What if the water was infested with crocodiles? Or um, snakes? Had you given it any thought before dragging us here?"
"Oh, please," Felix pipes in, "it's a small lake, it can't be that bad."
Alexis giggles, "lakes can be a home for many creatures; snakes are one of them."
"Oh, my lord," Jiyeon groans, "I'm going to kill San."
"So, I'm thinking you're not going to stay around for long?" Alexis instigates and Jiyeon nods her head, crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm not. And neither is San."
"May gods bless thee," Mingi mocks, rubbing his hand over his face, "what about you, Liyah? Staying for another round?"
"I actually don't want to..." you trail off, eyeing behind him as Yunho walks out of the water, followed by Chris and San. "But I was here with Yunho, and I don't think he'd want to leave any sooner."
"I can drop you off," Mingi shrugs, stepping close to you.
"Drop who off?" Yunho repeats, shaking his head like a puppy to get rid of the water in his hair.
Alexis streamlines to his side, subtly, however. Yunho doesn't pay her any mind for the time being, his attention solely focused on you and Mingi. You couldn't concentrate on the matter at hand because you were too distracted by Yunho's bare figure; his body wasn't as buff as Chris or Mingi, or even San for that matter, but he was well built at places he should be. For some reason, you couldn't quite take your eyes off his body, his lower half precisely. The way his briefs stuck to his thighs and crotch, defined the very vague details of his cock. At least now you know what the girls in high school had been talking about, all those rumours of him being 'huge' were starting to reappear in your mind. And you could say, those were no rumours. Those were facts.
"Oh, Liyah wants to go home." Mingi replies, bringing you out of your daze, "since she came with you..."
You step in, feeling the need to be clearer and firmer, "well it seems like you want to stay here for a little longer and I don't want to ruin it for you."
"I can leave with you if you want," Yunho deadpans.
"No, it's fine," you mutter, eyes glazing over Alexis who was now shooting you daggers with her own, "you're meeting everyone after a long time. Might as well enjoy that while it lasts. Mingi already offered, so it's really fine."
"Yeah, we aren't staying around either," Jiyeon scowls, stomping over to San and grabbing him by his arm, "you're leaving with me. And dare if you invite me back for something stupid like this, again."
"Okay, ma'am," San offers a two-finger salute as she drags him along by the arm; he looks over his shoulder and frowns, "I gotta go, homies. Have more fun in my stead."
Jiyeon rolls her eyes at his dramatic speech. Felix catches up with the two and informs us, turning around for a mere second. "This was fun guys, but I think I'll leave too. Don't go too crazy."
"Are you sure you want to be a third wheel between them?" Chris questions, stroking his lower lip to adjust his lip ring.
Felix rolls his eyes and blows a raspberry, giving him a thumbs down. You shift in your place and tug on Mingi's hand, "I think we should leave too."
Mingi nods, looking down at you, "sure." he then turns to others, "be careful, lads."
"We're hiking back up with you, dodo." Alexis rolls her eyes, pushing herself close to Yunho's side; she let her chest brush against his back, eventually she takes his arm in her hold and drags him ahead.
Finding Yunho's gaze fixated on you while he stumbles on his feet along her, the suffocation in the pit of your stomach rises. You wonder what he was thinking, or if he was simply acting out on his jealousy. Though when you look at him sticking to Alexis like that, all your sentiments regarding him, shatter to pieces. While a tinge of envy does arise in your heart, it also brings you a little peace knowing, you had somewhat managed to make him jealous too. An eye for an eye. Only you were waiting for the time when both of you would go blind.
Mingi wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you with him. His warmth is a little treat to yourself, and his presence was your saving grace. You and Mingi were good friends, not as good as you were with Yunho, but you were getting there. As said before, you and Mingi did share a good time together on the night of your graduation party. Something which you had kept under the wraps to prevent your friends from gossiping, or overall prevent Yunho from knowing about it. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, Yunho couldn't fully give his doubts away. He kept suspecting you and Mingi for a few months, until he let go of it in all and moved on from his silly suspicions.
After hiking up the small, elevated terrain to the parking spot, barefoot and wet, you find San, Jiyeon and Felix drying themselves off to the wind. They have their clothes strewn on the trunk of San's car. Jiyeon shivers slightly, coming her hand through her wet hair. Felix and San are busy in a conversation, least bothered about the gauzy cold. In a haste, Chris walks over from behind you and stumbles to his car; he opens the driver's door and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the side pockets on the door.
So he was a smoker, now. Great.
"I'll go get our clothes. Wait here." Mingi smiles at you, leaving you by his car and disappearing down the inscrutable tracks.
You lean against the trunk of his car, arms over your chest, contemplating and agonisingly listening to Alexis use her pitched voice to flirt with Yunho. Her secondhand compliments were giving you secondhand embarrassment. How can Yunho even tolerate her? Maybe he was too distracted by the way her tits were spilling out of her bra. And you couldn't give a fuck. It's ironic, isn't it? He was minutes away from confessing his feelings for you and now he's sticking to someone who's not. And it all happened because you were too proud in your ways to dally with him.
"Anyone wants to join us for late night dinner?" San announces, "we're going to Amelia's."
Chris raises his hand, "count me in."
Felix retorts, "I thought you were prepared for a round two of diving."
"Maybe now I'm having second thoughts." He blows out a smoke and slams the car door shut. "I wouldn't mind going for a bite."
Yunho shrugs, "me too. All that swimming famished me. And I cannot resist Amelia's deli sandwich."
"Count me in too," Alexis sings, "we both have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?" she bats her lashes at Yunho, who smiles down at her, whispering, "of course, we do. And we need to test all the things you've been texting me."
You don't catch on the very last of his words as they get too inaudible to perceive, but from the smirk on his face, you knew he had double intentions to it.
"What about you, Liyah?" Jiyeon asks and you shake your head, "I'll have to take a rain check. It's just that I'm not hungry. I just want to jump in my bed and knock myself out."
Till the time you reply to her, Mingi comes back with both of your clothes and your sandals. He already had his shoes on when you glance at his feet. "What are you guys talking about?"
"Going to Amelia's, wanna join?" Chris says.
Mingi waves his free hand in the air, "sounds fun, but I don't think I can tolerate that place anymore. You guys can go."
"Alright," Jiyeon mumbles, "so, you and Liyah aren't coming with us..."
Alexis takes on the hint, "they probably want to get busy for the night."
"A late night check in at the hotel vag. Nice work, Mingi." San quips.
Mingi rolls his eyes, "think whatch'ya wanna."
Your flustered cheeks leave no room for others to think of the obvious, or whatever that had been cooking in their heads; Yunho, however, wasn't too impressed by anyone's remarks, neither was he too fond your cherry glazed cheeks. He wasn't the reason why you were blushing; it was Mingi. His ego doesn't let him believe it.
Mingi ignores the low sounding hoots from his friends and hands you your clothes, the camisole and shorts, alongside your kimono. Your lingerie was still drenched in water, and it would be more sensible if you remove them before wearing your clothes. He puts your sandals in front of your feet, and you slip into them easily; keeping the clothes on his car's trunk, you glance at Mingi with hesitance and then clear your throat.
"Do you have anything to cover me while I... you know...get rid of my wet underwear?" you whisper to him, keeping your words between the two of you only. Not that you were worried about other's overhearing you, because they were too engrossed in themselves to be bothered about you two anymore.
Without saying anything, Mingi goes around his car and pulls out the passenger's door; he has a black jacket slung on his forearm as he makes his way back to you.
"Would this work?"
"Sure." You tell him, "just hold it up, I'll change behind it."
Mingi's cheeks turn red, visibly red. "Are you sure you want me to do it and not..."
"He's busy wooing Alexis for the night, so..." you walk to the front of the car, where one side of it was shrouded with darkness and dense branches of trees.
Mingi does as you suggest him to, holding his oversized jacket up to create a curtain for you to change behind it. You quickly get out of the wet bra and panties, and pull your camisole over your head, then the shorts follow. It feels eldritch at first to wear your clothes without your underwear, but you had no other choice but to. Once you settle into it, there's no awkwardness against your skin, and you tell Mingi to lower the jacket. The man had his eyes closed and head turned at all times, showing off his gentlemanliness.
"That was fast," he continues, "for your information, I wasn't looking at all."
"That's fine, Mingi." You laugh and walk past him.
He's right behind you, "but I think you still have a little bit of issue?"
You glance down at your camisole to find your nipples hard and poking through the soft material. "Oops, I actually do."
Mingi gives you his jacket, without hesitating. "Put it on. I'll be back soon."
You shrug his jacket over. It reeked of his scent, a little bit of nicotine and cinnamon musk. The jacket covered almost everything of you, reaching till your mid thighs. It kept you warm, maybe a little warmer than you had liked it to be. Joining the others, you stand next to Jiyeon, waiting for Mingi as he changes into his clothes where you had changed.
"Ooh, Mingi's jacket, isn't it?" Jiyeon teases, noticing you standing next to her.
You scoff, "it's not what you think."
Unconsciously or consciously, your eyes scatter in search of Yunho amongst the familiar faces. He's not there, neither is Alexis. Your stomach rumbles with jealousy, only a little.
"Don't look for him, he's not here," Chris slurred his words.
"Him and Alexis have gone to bring their clothes and stuff," San shrugs, "are you trying to make him jealous, Liyah?"
"Me? Jealous? Me making him jealous? Oh please," you roll your eyes, scoffing.
"Just thought, because he's been riling you up for nothing; him and Alexis are getting on your nerves it seems." San adds.
Mingi whistles along, marking his presence next to you and while he does, Yunho and Alexis walk out of the dark, hand in hand, both smiling at each other for some apparent reason. You twist your nose and look away, turning yourself to Mingi, you cling by his arm and bury it in between your tits. Mingi is obviously taken back by your stern action, and so does it catch Yunho and the other's off guard.
"Let's go, Mingi," you pout, looking up at him, "we should leave. I'm cold and I want to take a nice warm shower with you."
San rolls his eyes. Chris scoffs. Jiyeon snickers. And Felix curses under his breath, annoyed by your act. They all knew you were pretending and playing along. But Yunho didn't. He believed every word you said and clenched his jaw, tight enough for his cheek to twitch. Alexis was on the same boat as him, believing your frolicsome ruse.
Mingi clears his throat, tugging a few strands of your hair behind your ear and lets his eyes linger on you. It was driving him insane to not do anything at this moment, because somewhere along the lines, he never stopped liking you. He was ready to compromise his silly love for you, all for yours and Yunho's sake.
It takes a minute for Mingi to form his words. "Eager, aren't we?"
"Oh come on, you silly." you slap his chest, playfully, yet Mingi yelps in pain. "We've got a lot of catching up to do and let's be honest, it's not going to happen while we're still here."
"You're right about that," he chimes, looking up, "we'll see you guys later, or at the summer camp. Don't forget, you guys gave me your names for volunteering. Don't back out now, or else there'll be consequences." Mingi warns them, earning a round of groans and whines.
Mingi slips one of his hands around your waist and hides you to his car; San yells out from behind, "wear a glove when making love!"
You could clearly hear Yunho scoff amid the teasing from your friends, but you choose not to react to it. You're suppressing your queasy emotions to yourself, bottling them quite nicely as you get in Mingi's car and strap yourself in. The engine roars when Mingi revives it and pulls out of the parked space.
The ride along with Mingi isn't quiet, no, not at all. Passing by the night of crippling elation, and unsaid judgments, you stare out of the window and ponder. You stole a few glances from Mingi, who hummed an unsung melody under his breath. The chunky rings on his thumbs and fingers, tapped an obscure tune on the steering, an addition to his dilly dally singing. You both had things to say, many more feelings to state and confide, yet you were caught up amid a war of who'd be the first to go.
Mingi clears his throat, "is he still so oblivious or chooses to play dumb?"
You groan, softly in your mind thinking about Yunho and his stupidity. "I don't know, Min! He can't be so blind to all the times I've came through for him."
"So, you think he chooses to play dumb?"
"Maybe, he thinks we don't have a future," you mumble, turning to face him, "and maybe he is right. We can't even be sure of the present to talk about our future. We push and pull, and we'll continue pushing and pulling until one of us breaks and blurts out everything."
Mingi tries to figure out how he would respond to your said comments. In actuality, he had the same idea about the two of you.
He sighs, "you have to take a stand, Liyah. Let him know."
"I know."
And the night dissolves your mind in the haphazard nonchalance of nothingness.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
             Five days volunteering at the summer camp, and you were drained. It wasn't easy looking after kids, they're moody, picky eaters, and rebels. Though for some contemplative reasons, your experience with the kids wasn't as bad as it was with Yunho. In the sheer curiosity of nature, you were left alone; speaking in simpler terms, you and Yunho had a rift between each other, leading to no interactions over the span of this summer camp. You spent most of your time volunteering anyway, so it didn't matter. Not exactly when you also had Mingi's assistance to you for every little thing.
You and Mingi had bonded over the time, it would be the same with you and the others. Talking to your fellow friends, you come to learn how they were handling their lives. Jiyeon is working part time with an animal rescue NGO. San has dropped out of college and chose to be on a professional parkour team. Chris continues to be a menace in his medical school. Felix is an artist's understudy and manages his studies at the art school. And Alexis is pursuing her long-lost passion for being a fashion designer. They're all busy in their lives, headed for the future and passionate about their careers. Catching up with them would be the best moment of coming back here.
"And last summer, she wore my designed outfit!" Alexis chimes in full excitement. "You know, that's when I felt accomplished as a fashion designer."
"It's one of the most famous music artists in our country right now, I wouldn't second guess your happiness." Yunho compliments her, hugging her close to his body.
As the day had passed, all the kids were back to their homes, and as you had time to spare, Mingi suggested ending the night on a jovial note. The night dragged on to be a beautiful one with a full moon high struck in the sky, and what is better than a campfire to spend such an alluring night? You were all sitting in circles, surrounding the fiery pit of fire, the scent of burning wood nuzzling into your nose and the warmth of the fire settling into your skin. The fire crackles far too often, dissipating in the mellow undertones of your chatters. On the scattered logs, you sat next to Mingi; there were two people on each log. Chris and Felix were together, Jiyeon and San were snuggling up right next to you and Mingi, and Yunho and Alexis were sitting opposite to you two. There were other volunteers too; the eccentric teens of the town had left early, leaving your group of friends to luxuriate in the night.
Rising flames of the fire interrupted most my view, but not much. You could catch the glimpses of Yunho and Alexis being touchy and feely, some part of you absolutely despised it while the other waited around for everything to unfold. Mingi gave you solidarity, supporting your crazy notions as the time rolled around. Jiyeon and San were acting very much like a couple; it's not surprising considering they moved to the same city, rent a same apartment, and live together. It was bound to happen one way or another. Chris and Felix did not disclose their love life just yet, not that you know of.
"It was the best feeling ever," Alexis sings, adjusting herself by Yunho's side.
Yunho lets her do as she pleases; he wraps his arm around her waist to pull her close; their bodies seemed to be conjoined and it did not bode well with you.
Yunho chuckles, "of course, it was..."
Their voices die to mere whispers in your mind, you're too fixated on Mingi's feeble attempts at easing you out. He rubbed circles on the curve of your back, his warmth was more intense than compared to the fire in front of you; but seemingly you had started to burn for a completely different reason.
"You have to do something, Liyah." Mingi speaks up, "you can't let her win. Alexis only wants to parade Yunho around for her own sake. He's a trophy wife for her."
"You think I don't know that Mingi?" you bark, taking him off guard. Your aggression wasn't limited to yourself anymore, it was directed at Yunho too. "No one can love him like I do."
He pulls you in for a side hug, embracing your body with his as he leans his head on yours. Pushing you against his chest, he brings his hand to stroke through your hair.
"I know that." He mumbles, "everyone here knows that. Except for him. He's a blind dick, just be upfront with him."
You raise your head from his chest and deadpan, "geez, I never thought of that. Thanks a lot, Mingi."
"Happy to help," he replies back, catching up on your satire. "I'm being serious though. Ask him to meet you at your—oh no..."
Mingi's eyes had been trained on you, but when he takes them off, only for a second, he's met with a catastrophic happening. Brazen and curious, you nudge your neck in the direction his eyes were stuck in. And the ground under your feet opens wide, ready to swallow you.
Yunho and Alexis were kissing. Yes. They were swallowing each other's mouth, and it was a sight you couldn't bear. So, you do what any sensible woman would do, after seeing her crush kissing someone who's not her. You storm off. You run away. You're quick on your feet, untwining Mingi's arms from you and scurrying off into the wild dark. Mingi's protests aren't enough to stop, neither are the silent ones coming from others; you're scampering in your boots to get away from the campfire spot as fast as you could. Only, you hadn't realise that someone else had followed you right after.
For the first time in his years of friendship with you, Yunho was feeling utterly helpless. Disappointing you was never on his list; he didn't want to let you down either. He didn't think he'd break your heart by playing a wicked game of push and pull. He took it too far. Obviously. In the middle of the dense forest, he's in your pursuit; his feet are in synch with yours, but his pace makes him fall behind. He was listening to you sob and sniffle and to him, those were the most vulnerable sounds he had ever heard from you.
"Liyah, wait!" he yells, and you slow down.
Walking on the graveled ground, a path leading to the set of cabins situated at distance from each other, you stop and turn. You find him behind you, right behind you. Remorse evident in his eyes, and his lips quivering; you couldn't bear to see him like that. Never in your years of friendship had you seen him like that. The happy go lucky guy had a frown on his face, tears in his eyes, and guilt painted all over his skin. Of course, you'd be astonished to find him in such condition.
Moonlight breaks through the branches of the tall trees around you, the scent of mildew and moss spreading to the moisture baring air; his face shrouded with darkness, lights up when he steps into one of the moonbeams. And he's breathtaking. He always was.
"What do you want, Yunho?" you spit, spitefully.
"Can we talk?"
"I don't want to talk to you," you state and turn on your heels, ready to storm off again.
Though, before you could even take a step ahead, you're pulled back into something hard; a tight grip on your wrist burns through your skin and constraints any movement from you.
"What?" you gasp, peeking through your squinted eyes to find Yunho's staring right into yours.
You're pressed up against his chest, cheeks turning red when you realise how close you two were. There hadn't been a time where you were so close to each other. With how blatantly the proximity had dithered between you two, you couldn't think straight. Even so, you try to snatch your hand away from his grasp, wanting to be free of his hold. He doesn't let you, he doesn't even budge when you're using all your strength to get his hand off your wrist; you started clawing at his hand, but that didn't work either.
"I told you I don't want to talk to you," you state, firmly.
"But I want to." He whispers, "please, hear me out."
You press your lips together, letting your hand fall down to your side; his skin broke with your nail marks, blood clotting under, waiting to ooze out. Time stands still here, amid the inky phases of your heart; forest speaks of nothing, no sound at all, letting your hearts beating in the while. As the clouds shift against the nightly breeze, the moon hits your faces, lighting up your eyes.
"Okay," you mutter, "I'll hear you out."
He clears his throat and let's go of your hand. Taking a step back from you, he runs a hand through his hair, which falls disheveled on his forehead. Accustomed to his growing silence, you have half a mind of turning away and sprinting back to your cabin.
"What you saw with—what you saw with Alexis, it wasn't my—"
You interrupt him, "it wasn't your fault. I get it. She was the one who came onto you. You had no hand in this..." he looks less guilty hearing you, so you add, "don't bullshit me, Yunho. It always takes two—takes two. Neither of you are innocent."
As your voice breaks, the light in Yunho's eyes starts dwindling down. "Liyah, please..."
"What, Yunho?" you sniff and tears well in your eyes, "you want to justify your behaviour? You want to validate how you feel about me? What do you want?"
Being pushed past your limits, you shake your head and close your eyes shut; turning on your heels, you stride down the vague path leading to the cabins where you were staying in. You must've taken a couple of steps ahead, about to take another when your world spins around; it only stops when you're pushed up against a nearby tree. The way your back hits the trunk causes pain to strike your spine; but then you also realise how confined you were to it, with Yunho's hands holding you down by your shoulders.
"Don't piss me off, Liyah." He states, leaning in close to let his breath tickle your face. "That'd be very detrimental of you to do so."
"Am I pissing you off now, oh." you deadpan, placing your hands on his chest to shove him away. That seemed like the only viable option for you. "I'm so sorry."
"Keep your sarcasm to yourself, Liyah," he mutters, inching closer to let his lips brush against yours, "you want to know why I let Alexis play me like a violin?"
He takes your silence for a yes and continues, "because I wanted to know what your heart truly desires. Did it even want me, or was I just fantasizing a future between us which doesn't really exist?"
"You could've asked me," you mumble, your lips quivering as your stomach twists inside, "you could've asked me, and I would've been upfront with you, Yunho."
Tears spill out of your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. He couldn't watch you cry. Looking away for a second, he trains his now teary eyes on you.
"Asked?" he repeats, "Liyah, we've both been lying to each other since our senior year in high school." His hands slide down to your waist, wrapping around to maintain some distance between you and the tree trunk. "We would've never been real with each other. Let alone, even confessing to each other felt like such a task for us."
"Then what were you trying to do, Yunho?" you mumble, keeping your hands on his chest, "you kissed Alexis. And before that, you gave me hope that we could be together. Now, you're saying we should've been more straightforward with each other. You're not making sense."
"I know I'm not," he grumbles, "because nothing makes sense to me now. I thought you'd confess to me on the rooftop, I had prepared a long ass speech for you, confessing my feelings too. But then, you brought up Mingi—"
"—nothing ever happened between me and Mingi," you intervene, letting your lips form a frown, "the night of our graduation party, he did ask me out. But I turned him down. You know why? Because I liked you." Suffocating under his gaze, you take a deep breath and continue, "I didn't want to start something with him if it meant I had to break him soon. Because I was too hopeful for either of us to make a sound. I was eager to be in a relationship with you. I was impatient to tell you how badly I had fallen for you. But then, we never said anything. We only ruined it for us. How long were we going to yearn in silence?"
Yunho takes a moment to process your words, your phrases of sheer truth before he instigates, "so, you and Mingi...?"
"No, we're not together," you shake your head, groaning softly as you push your body into his; your hands slip from his chest to the either side of his waist.
"Ah really?" he rasps, resting his forehead on yours, "then I wouldn't mind making a sound. I like you too, Liyah. Oh, to hell with it, I think I love you."
You bite back on chuckle, rubbing the sides of his waist as you lean into his touch. "I think I'm falling in love with you too."
"Hmm," he hums before grunting in pure impatience, "ah, fuck it."
In a fraction of a second, his lips meet yours, capturing a daze of lust and hunger before melting into utter passion. He delicately cups your face, the palms of his hands ever so softly caressing your keeps; he tilts your head slightly, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss. You're drowning in the way his lips lay so gentle against yours. Basking his lips into yours, you whimper as frailly as you could, bringing your hands up to his shoulders for support.
The kiss only grows deeper than before, with him pushing his body into yours and keeping your chest flushed against his. Desperation is evident in the sound of his grunt, and in the way his chest rumbles; his teeth sink in your lower lip, thumbs pressing your cheekbones before pulling himself back and letting go of your lower lip. He watches your lip wobble with amusement, smirking to himself as you whine almost inaudibly.
"You know, we were chasing stars in the dark, blindfolded," he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose with yours, not moving quite back yet. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, causing tremors to creep on your skin. "We couldn't see our feelings for each other, but at least we knew they were there."
"Yeah yeah, I get it," you huff out, pulling him by the collar of his jacket, "I've waited too long for you, now, why don't you shut up and kiss me?"
"Yes, ma'a—" you tug him down, putting your lips on his to shut him up.
Grasping onto the collar of his jacket, you push yourself into him; your toes curl in your boots upon feeling the lushness of his lips. You're far too gone to resist your desires. All the years of curbing your carnality for him had led up to this moment, where you're kissing him back as ravenously as you could. The hunger is evident in the way his lips move against yours; he bites down on your lower lip, eliciting a murmured gasp from you. The dainty vibration of your noise gets absorbed in the kiss, breaking out into a small and heated make out sesh under the starlight.
Yunho's hands slip away from your face, grazing past your collarbones and then down to your waist. He brings your hips into his, heedlessly grinding his crotch on yours. The feelings make you an airhead, too dazed to realise when his tongue had slithered past your swollen lips and into your mouth. His sloppy, wet and warm tongue plays with yours; its roughness melts when you tackle his tongue with your own, moaning. This was too much, too much all at once; his hips rolling into yours, showing you how eager he was to take you right there and then. You couldn't really believe how desperate he was, or how you could sense the hardness of his cock through his trousers.
Your mind goes blank, chest heaving into his as your body goes erratic to him shoving his tongue down your throat. He twists and turns it inside, plunging down further to touch extreme end of your palate. His tongue almost makes you gag, but neither of you pull away. Not even when your lungs were crumpling and urging you to take a breath. His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks through your nifty tank top. Heat starts rising up your cheeks, tipping off every inch of your body when you come to your senses; you were kissing Yunho. The Jeong Yunho whom you had been crushing over for years.
The wait was worth it.
Yunho gasps as he pushes back, taking a deep breath in through his mouth and you watch his chest rise invariably.
"I think we should take this inside," he pecks your lips, "I can't bear this any longer. I fucking need you..."
You brush his hair, letting your fingers tangle in his silky strands while you swipe your tongue on his lower lip. "Do you really?"
He grunts, sounding deep and dark; before you could do anything else to him, he grabs both of your hands by their wrists and pins them above your head. Diving back in to resume the covetous kiss, he sucks on your lips, akin to shut you up. You let him devour you, quite literally; his teeth scrape over your lower lip and you bite back a whimper. His other hand teasingly drags to the hem of your tank top; wasting a second, tracing light circles on your skin, he lets his fingers divulge under first. The cold tips of his fingers delineate strokes until his whole hand is under your top. His fingertips graze the lower part of your tit, teasing you.
He breaks the kiss through halfway again, pushing your body down from the way he held your hands.
"Are you fucking talking back to me?" he leans in to kiss you again, but doesn't really; his lips hover onto yours, so painfully close yet so far away. "Yeah, I fucking need you. I've been craving all of you for the past six years. Your lips, your heart, your soul, I want to touch it all."
"I'm not stopping you, am I?" you whisper, lurching forward to kiss him but he's quick, and tilts his head away. You pout, "you're a—"
He doesn't let you finish and kisses you, stealing your breath away. "Baby, I'm incharge. You better not open your mouth for anything other than moaning and whimpering like the sweet little girl you are."
You nod, humming.
"That's my good girl, now..." he drags his voice to a grumble; he lets go of your hands and instead, hooks his around your knees and picks you up.
"Yunho!" you gasp as you're lifted and slung on his shoulder. His other hand comes to cup your ass, while the one supporting you stays around your waist.
He doesn't respond to you and carries you away from the dark; the upside down view of yours tells you exactly where he was taking you. Catching the glimpse of your cabin, and the bright light on porch of the cabin, you anticipate what's to come. The cabin door is shoved open inside, too harshly to keep it from making any sound. As the vibrations of the thud drown out, you're thrown on the twin sized bed of your cabin.
It's dark, not pitch black, but dimly lit because of the moonlight flooding through the sole window situated above the bed. You huff in stifling annoyance, laying on the bed and supporting yourself by your elbows. Hearing bellicose shuffles from Yunho, you peek up to find him taking his jacket off. It is then thrown on the floor, leaving him in only his black trousers and a pale blue button-down shirt. Amidst the darkness, he meets your eyes, and they don't waver one bit; he crawls onto the bed, and you saunter back till you hit the wooden wall behind you.
"What, are you scared?" he prances close to you, like a predator approaching its prey. You shake your head, and he chuckles, "you can use your words, sometimes."
You purse your lips together, not wanting to utter a sound because you were sure it'd have its own consequences. Squeezing your thighs together, to try not to make it seem obvious that you were beyond aroused, feeling your slick drench your panties and your shorts. Yunho's body shudders visibly as he lets out a harmless laugh, bringing his hands to roam your body before they end up around your waist. He's trapped you against the wooden panelling behind, with his body pressed up against you instead. Moonlight hits his eyes, illuminating the sheer lust in them; pools of melted honey had suddenly succumbed to their darkness. He's perfectly slotted in between your legs, and you take merest of efforts to wrap them around his waist. With an arch of your back, your hips buck into his and your cunt is in direct contact with his raging erection.
"Okay, don't want to speak?" he whispers, tracing the tip of his nose along your cheek and gliding it further down, "fine. Don't. I'll be getting some sounds out of you, anyway."
Yunho likes how you were so desperate for him, how you were rolling your hips to get more friction; practically grinding on his cock, you tried to gauge how big he was. You always knew from the rumours that he was huge, but this was the moment where you'd be witnessing it for yourself. He bites down your lips, before pulling back and sticking his tongue out. You do the same and bring him closer to you by wrapping your hands around his neck. Expecting him to kiss you, you're left stunned when he sucks on your tongue instead. He sucks on it as if it was a piece of candy.
The sloppy sucking turns into sloppy kissing, and you groan into the kiss, intertwining your fingers in few strands of his hair falling over his neck. Yunho chortles, grinding his hips on your cunt to show how hard he was now. You can't think straight; first of all, it's starting to get dark in the cabin, second of all, Yunho's lips had been driving your insane, and third of all, his cock was rigid and feeling it through your clothes was starting to turn you off. Yunho breaks the kiss, pulling back just a little; translucent strings of spit cover both of your lips, keeping them in an illusion of being attached.
A mischievous smirk curls on his Yunho's lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck; leaving back bruises, he bites and sucks on your flesh. He knew your weak spot, you had shared it to him the day you had lost your virginity; it was a mistake telling him, because he was figuratively, abusing it for you. The spot lied three fingers below your earlobe, and he was nibbling on the exact spot to bring out the worst in you. It's gonna be bruised purple and blue, and Yunho's going to take the pride in it.
"Yunho!" you gasp and moan, tilting your head to a side to let him have better angle to abuse your neck. Lost in the wind of pleasure, you let your hands slide down his back, resting delicately on his shoulder blades.
"I know," his smirk widens, "did you think I wouldn't remember it?"
The clutter of his whisper melts to silence. His hands which had been on your waist for all this time, were starting to creep up. Except, he had the hem of your tank top in his hold. Pulling it up to your collarbone, he mumbles incoherent words against your neck as your tits spill out. You did not find it practical to wear a bra after your evening shower, and now that you think about it, you made a good decision not to. Yunho's cheeks turn an alluring shade of red upon catching a glimpse of your perky tits.
There had been accidental glances before, whenever you'd wear low cut tops or dresses, even your strapless tops exposed much more of your cleavage than you would intend on. Yunho respected your body, and the boundaries which were conspicuous in a friendly way; he might not be so blatant about it, but on a night or two, you were the starlight of his fantasies while he jerked off. In fact, he would've sworn off on his own words, if it weren't for your thoughts helping him 'get it on' with his ex-girlfriends. He would never disclose that to you, would he? During those moments however, whenever he'd be struck by post-nut clarity, he'd feel ashamed and guilty.
Well, not anymore.
Your body is bewitching, making him lose his senses; the movement of his hips ceases in a sudden state, wrenching out more desperation from you as you heedlessly keep bucking yourself into him. You wonder what made him stop, and your curiosity is sated almost immediately when he pushes himself back and supports himself on his knees. His sleek fingers work on the buttons of his shirt, coming undone one by one. He doesn't take off his shirt just yet only unbuttons the top half of it while leaning over to capture your lips in a head spinning kiss.
His lap on yours, devouring the sweet essence; you press on a moan, rolling yourself into him and pushing your bare chest against his. The soft material of shirt rests over your tits, tickling the pit of your stomach as you continue to push your chest into his. Yunho's chest collapses with a guttural moan, pulling himself away from the kiss. He offers you a smirk, before using his hands to pull the tank top over your head. It's off and thrown on the floor, keeping you bare on your top half for him.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks you, cheeks still red and alluring. Leaning over, he rests his forehead on yours, and lets his lips brush against yours.
You let your hands hover on his back, dipping your fingers only for their tips to lightly ghost along till you wrap them around the nape of his neck and pull him in. "Yeah, as sure as I've been about my feelings for you."
"There's no going back after this," he cups a side of your face and pecks your lips, "so, if you're having second thoughts, just tell me."
"I'm not," you mumble, breathlessly pressing your lips with his, "I want this. I know you want it too."
"Well, I've been wanting this since the day I got myself to fall for you." He smiles, bringing one of his hands to grab yours on the back of his neck. "A lot of things have happened in my mind since then, a lot of fantasies, a lot of desires..."
Before you could ask him about them, he quickly grabs your hand and pins it over your head; he does the same for your other hand, and ignoring your whines, he constraints both of your hands with his one. He's back to rolling his crotch onto yours, giving you the sensory stimulation of his erection through your clothes. The urge to rid yourself from the confines of your shorts was beyond anything, wanting to be naked for him to grind himself on you. As if that thought wasn't enough to make you wet, you were actually clenching at the friction of his cock against your cunt.
The shorts had to go. And his clothes too. You were mewling despair, having never considered yourself desperate for someone's cock as much as you're right now. His knees sunk into the mattress underneath, while your legs remain wrapped around his waist; he slides his free hand down to the waistband of your shorts, fingers fumbling to unbutton and pull them off.
"I just need to know you're okay with everything I have to do."
"Do you need a written consent now?" you groan, annoyed and irritated. "You can do whatever you want, I have no complaints."
"Be careful with what you say," he warns you, forcing his hips into yours to give you more of him. "I don't want you crying later on."
"What do you take me for?" you stick your tongue out, "I have been with many guys before you."
"Did you really have to mention that?" he grunts, pushing his hand past the waistband of your shorts; while his other hand kept yours bound above your head, he was making the best with his one free hand. "I'll teach you a lesson, make you forget about everyone in your past."
"I'll like to see you try—ah fuck, Yunho!" you gasp, fisting your hands tighter when his fingers press on your clit.
"That's right, scream my name," he growls, burying his head in the crook of neck and biting your flesh harshly.
You were going to have red and blue splotches littered all over your skin tomorrow; and that would make it everyone obvious of yours and his nightly venture. Yunho's teeth sink further while his fingers slither along your slit, rubbing you up and down through your panties, making you moan out loud.
"Yunho..."
"Huh, what is it?" he mumbles against your skin, licking the spots he had marked and bitten.
"Please..."
"I don't understand one-word answers, doll," he chuckles, the vibrations preening your skin. "Be clear and say what you want. I'll give it to you."
"Fuck—fuck you," you say out of spite, grumbling as your eyes shut close and darkness takes over. You couldn't stare at the ceiling while he abused your neck, and his fingers worked you up.
"Uh-huh," he tuts, ceasing the movements of his fingers, "what a foul mouth. Be nice or else I won't touch you at all." He brings his hands out and your eyes flutter open at the emptiness; you whine, "please, Yunho. I won't—I won't say that again."
"And I'm supposed to trust you?"
"Please..." you whine again, bucking your hips up. "I'll do whatever you want next time."
"I'm more of a provider than a receiver." His hand dives back in your shorts, his fingers rubbing you through your panties. "And I think we're wasting too much time already."
The moonlight shines through the window again, illuminating half of his face for your eyes; it hits his chin and his nose, keeping his own eyes shrouded in dark. You roll your hips into his fingers as they continue their motion, going up and down along your slit and pressing against your clit whenever they could. Squinting your eyes shut tight, you let the pleasure build and your slick grows denser in your panties; it soaks through, coating bits of his skin as he keeps rubbing you down.
"Getting wetter by the second, I see. Really fucking desperate, aren't you doll?"
He pulls himself back altogether, "keep your hands up, or else I might have to punish you."
You nod, pursing your lips together and then crossing your wrists over another to fix them above your head. In the darkness, as the moon crosses your window, you catch a glimpse of Yunho shrug out of his shirt and hold it in his hand. He keeps it to a side before grabbing your waist and pulling you down on the bed, with such ease that you felt weightless. You plop against the mattress, yelping softly as you let him do as he pleases with you.
"You know, I don't really trust you with your hands," he muses, leaning over as he brings his hand back on yours. "So, let's keep them away for the night."
Taking the sleeves of his shirt, he crosses and loops them around your wrists and then hooks them up with the short and narrow rail of the bed. The sleeves come out in front of the rail, right where the headboard and he ties a tight knot. Your hands are stretched above your head, while you're lying restrained on the bed.
"Perfect." He clicks his tongue and moves back.
Bending his knees and sinking into the mattress, he is right in between with your legs on either side of him. He supports the underside of your thighs, arching your lower back up as it gives him better control over you. Without wasting any time, he effortlessly tugs your shorts down and rids you of them. Light crumpling follows and you know your shorts are lying on the ground along with your top and his jacket. You're squirming under him, too exposed to his eyes, even though you were in your panties; tilting your head up, you peek at him and watch him wet his middle and ring finger with his spit. The sheer coat of them shines under the moonlight and you groan, already anticipating what's to come.
He smirks lightly, as he lets the pads of his fingers rub on your mound through the panties at first and then drags them painstakingly down along your slit, pressing gently against your clit along the way. With a few more strokes, your mouth falls open, moans whispering past it as he picks up his face. His spit covers your soaked panties, wetting them further and they act as your second skin; he purposely presses hard along your slit, eliciting a throaty moan before it subsides to a whine.
His fingers were off of you, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness and confusion. "Let's get you out of these, shall we?"
With one swift breath, he hook his fingers under the waistband one tour panties and tugs them all the way down; you're completely exposed to him, shuddering in your skin as his hungry eyes drink every detail of your cunt. Your panties loosely hang by his pinky finger, while an ordained smirk teases his lips and keeps them parted. He starts palming his crotch, closing his eyes and throwing his head back for the mere minute as his cock begins to harden in his briefs.
"Look at the sheen on those lips," he coos, amused and eyes now fixed on your cunt. And you knew he definitely wasn't talking about the lips on your face. "Fuck, doll. Were you that eager to be fucked by me? So wet and eager for me."
He's teasing you and it's turning too embarrassing for you; closing your eyes you turn your head and whine, "fuck you."
At the realisation, your eyes shot open and stare at him in pure fright, but also a little bit of anticipation. He did warn you before, to keep your mouth clean and shut; now that you had openly cursed at him, all left to do was to wait for the consequences be bestowed on you. Yunho's eyes turn dark, lost in the carnal desire and prolonging the silence before he sighs, a sigh which translates to nothing but terror for you.
"What did I tell you?" he grunts, asking you a question in his commanding tone. "I asked you to keep your mouth shut. If you got nothing better to say, then don't say anything at all...right?"
As your chest rises and falls, convulsing to his utter lust and hunger, you press your lips together and prevent from squeaking any sounds; but to your unbridled surprise, his other hand comes flying to grab your jaw and fingers poke into your cheeks. He's too rough and savage as he forces your mouth open and stuffs your panties in your mouth.
"Much better." He remarks, sinking back on his knees and in between your legs; he fixes his gaze on you, and nudges his head. "If you let that fall from your mouth, oh baby, I don't know what might happen to you."
"Nghhhh..." even your groan gets muffled, and your tongue stays flat against the floor of your mouth; the smooth material of panties does chafe your tongue, but it's only in the slightest.
"Good girl," he praises, delighting himself with a smile before placing his hands back under your thighs. "Now, I have a treat for myself."
Licking his lips, he slouches himself in a way to have his face lowered in between your legs; his warm breath ghosts over your mound, then slowly tickles your skin as it drifts to your slit and folds. He grips your thighs tightly, dentures forming in your flesh as he does. Spreading your legs apart and keeping them propped on his tight, he drools at the sight of your cunt stretching out itself. It wasn't much, but it was enough for his cock to strain painfully in his pants.
"You're so beautiful, Liyah." He mumbles, fluttering a soft kiss over your mound before going further down, "I'm jealous of all the men who got to see this beauty before me. Holy fuck—just the thought itself makes me want to ruin this tight little thing."
His words vibrate against your skin, making you moan and urging you to scream. Alas, you can't really voice your pleasure or your desires. The wispy sensation of his breath tells you how close he was to your cunt, lips hovering over and with only a slight tilt of his head, he'd be all buried in you. The warmth of his hands slowly starts creeping up your thighs, fingers splayed and pressing to create bruises on your skin.
"I have your consent to do what I want, right, Liyah?" he mumbles, cupping the lower part of your ass.
You groan out loud to answer him, finding it extremely torturous to have your hands tied and mouth gagged. Unspoken tremors spread under your skin when his thumbs press against your folds, pulling them apart to reveal the hidden details behind them. He hums in satisfaction at the sight of your pink flesh blooming into delicate petals. You feel the mellow stretch burning your heart, combusting you whole as your patience run low. If your hands were free, you'd be pushing his head in between your legs, wrap your thighs around his face and suffocate on your juices.
Sadly, it was only confined to your mind as Yunho was pacing his actions slowly and steadily. His thumbs press on your fleshy folds furthermore, putting you entirely on a display for him; you swollen nub tautens, needing attention, your arousal just keeps flowing out. You throw your head back into the mattress, arching your neck and holding your tears in; this was embarrassing, but in a good way. You were utterly humiliated to have your best friend slotted in between your legs, learning and identifying every detail of your cunt.
You grumble in frustration and chagrin; all your desires and fantasies erupting a sense of pleasure and wonder in your heart.
"Fucking hell, you sound so heavenly right now." He comments, smiling.
As your stretched cunt glints with an appealing shine (from your arousal), it becomes quite difficult for Yunho to control his inner animal. He dips his head in, tongue sticking out and flat to lick up your slit first. Puckering his lips, he presses a few kisses on your mound before gurgling out a good amount of spit; the coldness of his spit trickles down, perfectly along your slit. You close your eyes even tighter than before, letting a few tears escape.
"Ynnmunnho...!" you try to spell out his name with the scream but fail miserably because of the panties bunched up in your mouth.
"I know, I fucking know, doll..." he whispers, licking and lapping up your juices mixed with his spit. "I'm going to take my time devouring you."
Soon, he's going all in. Pressing the tip of his tongue in your slit, sucking on your clit and tensing all the nerves, he's partially fucking you with his tongue. If only you were able to touch him and scream his name out, it'd be perfect. One of his hands disappears from holding you apart and reappears with its warmth on your folds. His mouth is sucking and licking your cunt, while his finger protrudes at your hole. Letting another wad of spit roll down your slit, his fingers collect it by the tips before pushing inside; his fingers had always been sleek and long, quite girthy too. At first, the stretch from his fingers stings a bit but then it subsides to sheer pleasure. It bubbles in your stomach, forcing you to arch your back and fist your hands tight enough for your knuckles to go white.
"Fuck, you're tight, doll." He remarks, chuckling to himself, "bet none of your exes did a better job at fucking you loose."
His fingers plunge further inside, while his mouth is back on your clit, suckling and slurping up the spit and your arousal. Pulling back only a centimetre, he mumbles against your skin, "such a sweet thing—tastes so sweet and perfect."
You whimper at his words, giving you sensory whiplash before you breathe in hard through your nose. There was no way you could control yourself now, you couldn't even resist your gut burning with a familiar knot tying itself in your stomach. His fingers kept a steady a pace inside, only to switch it up next second; they're thrusting in deep, squealing your walls and curling inside to brush against your g-spot. The sudden caress of his fingers against your sensitive spot, makes you moan and see stars behind your closed eyes.
Grumbling incoherently, you buck your hips into his face and his fingers slip deeper, while his tongue presses further into your clit. The wetness, the roughness and warmth of his tongue were driving you crazy to begin with, and then his fingers start moving in a scissoring manner to stretch you out. This was unbearable, agonising every muscle in your body and more importantly, it was torturing your every being to not scream his name out till you're practically unconscious with a sore throat.
You did not know Yunho was this freaky in the sheets; never once did it cross your mind in the years of your friendship, that he'd be assertive and rough, delighting himself in manhandling. The thoughts in your head are cut short when he lets another clump of his spit roll down your slit, his tongue rubbing in circles and sideways to ruin you completely. It was working. His ways were working. The only downside to this, was your inability to touch him. You would've loved to scratch your nails on his back, create those red marks all over; you would've stroked his ego by chanting his name in your daze.
With that, a very dire notion pops in your mind and your eyes light up before fluttering open; you prod the gag of your panties out of your mouth with your tongue, and let it fall off onto the mattress besides you. Taking a deep breath in to sate your lungs from suffocation, you whimper ever so lightly, not loud enough to catch his attention.
Yunho is engrossed in sucking at your clit, but he's not a fool to not know what was happening above him. He smirks softly, pulling himself back, while managing the rhythm of his fingers sawing through you. Having your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, you don't notice him straightening up only a bit to watch you with amusement.
"You're such a brat, Liyah," he mutters under his breath, "guess I'll save your punishment for the next time. Now, let's get over this."
He brings his fingers out, letting you cherish the emptiness before straightening his posture completely and questions you, "Do you have a safe word?"
You shake your head, heart warming up to the concern in his voice and spell out, "ugh, no...I don't."
Yunho heaves out a sigh before legging his lips fleet with a smile, "I work on the colour system, much like traffic signals; so, red is stop, green is okay, and yellow is pause. Understood?"
You nod your head and then pout, struggling in the restraints; yeah, your hands are numb and on the verge of going limp. "Can you take this off?"
"Not a chance, doll." He smirks, "you can handle it."
Subtly glancing at his pants, he's quick in unbuttoning, unzipping and tugging them off of his legs. All your clothes were either piled or strewn on the floor, and his pants were a new addition. Yunho shifts on his knees to find a comfortable spot, while you salivate over the outline of his cock being so prominent through his abstract painted briefs. They're a mix of red, blue and black and you really didn't think you'd fixate yourself on the pattern of his briefs, but it seemed like they had some minute detail printed on it.
"Stop staring," he leans over and flicks your forehead, his own cheeks turning red along yours.
You whine, as the skin of your forehead starts stinging a bit. "You're just...really hot. It's not my fault—it's not my fault you grew up to be so hot."
"Flattery is devil's work." He rolls his eyes, but still manages to capture your lips in a short lived yet wild kiss. "Hmm, seriously, if you feel uncomfortable at any moment of this, please tell me."
Composing himself, he straightens up and hooks his fingers under the elastic band of his briefs; he snaps it first, and then hauls them off of his legs. Again, they're thrown somewhere on the floor. He's bare in front of you, his cock springing up and touching his lower belly. You were right, the rumours you thought were made up in school, are true. He was huge and thick; the veins on his shaft were bulging out, the tip was red and a little bit of precum had coated the slit.
"I told you to stop staring."
He grunts and that's all you know before being flipped over on your stomach by his arms around your waist. You're pressed up against the mattress, your face buried in the sheets, while one of his hands slithers up your back to wrap itself around your neck. Applying little to no pressure, he pushes your head further into the mattress and groans out softly.
"Fuck," your words are muffled by the mattress.
He doesn't waste any time in propping you up on your knees, letting your lower half raise in the air; your ass was juttinout, while your back arched perfectly on the mattress. Keeping his hand on your neck, he uses his other to slap your ass. It was done with a playful intention, but it was enough to leave a faint impression of his hand on your skin. He repeats for two more times before admiring the red streaks of his hand on your skin, he takes his pride in it before flushing his hips against the back of your thighs and aligning his cock with your hole.
You could hear the shuffling, you could sense his movements regardless of your vision being limited to the white of the sheets; you wanted to turn your head and glance back at him, but his grasp on your neck was making it hard to move. And it seemed like he wasn't going to let you any sooner either.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chants breathlessly, closing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as he enters you; only his tip is prodding into your hole. "Liyah, please relax for me. You're too fucking—you're too fucking tight."
"Nghhhhh...!" you whimper, your spine shuddering when he tries to push himself in you from the back.
This position was your favourite, to say the least you liked the way it allowed one to hit every right spot in you. Yunho may have only gotten his tip inside, but you know the stretch from it was still ugly and unbearing. Only for the time being, however. Once you take a deep breath in and relax your muscles, it eases out your nerves and allows him to slip further in. Not long after, he's bottomed out; his thighs flush against yours, and his cock completely buried in you. He waits a beat for you to adjust to his size. Yunho is self aware, he knows how excruciating it'd be for a woman to take in his cock without any prep or care.
"Yeah, that's my good girl—just breathe—let me know when I can—when I can move," he stutters in his daze, his eyes opening to the heavenly feeling of your walls around his cock. He indulges himself in it, liking the warmth of your cunt and how tight you were.
You press your hips back into his, signalling him the known and he takes the hint before pulling him out; he doesn't pull out all the way, instead he lets the tip of his cock stay in you, promoting at your cervix before he gradually pushes himself in. His concise and slow thrusts give you the ability to adjust around him, getting used to his size in a minute or two.
"Don't forget to use the safe words, okay..." he mumbles under his breath.
As his words reverberate, he picks up his pace and thrusts faster into you; he pulls back and pushes in, lowering his thighs into yours and sticking to a healthy rhythm. His hand comes to support you by resting on your thigh from your lower back, while his other is already pressing your head into the mattress. You were drawling on your breath, suffocating and gasping for air; regardless, you weren't bothered by it, you were too immersed in the sting of your walls stretching around his cock and then relaxing every time he pulled out a little. It was driving you insane.
"Yunho, fuck...faster," you try to voice out, but the words are absorbed into the mattress.
Even if your words were inaudible to him, Yunho picks up the tempo of his hips, his fingers digging in your thigh as he holds onto it for leverage. This makes him go feral, having an untamed desire to ruin and fuck you raw. He brings his hand to the small of your back and lets it rest there, while his thrusts falter but show no signs of stopping.
"You're really—fuck—you're really fucking tight, doll." He breathes out, loosening his grip on your neck before sliding his hand up front.
Grabbing your throat now, he pulls up; your restrained hands limit your movement, and he makes the up the remaining distance by leaning his chest against your chest. Skipping a beat, he increases the speed of his thrusts, plunging his cock deep in you every time he drew out and rammed in hard. A voiceless chuckle sounds from beside you, right near your ear; his head rested delicately on the back of your shoulder, just above your shoulder blade.
Sweat beads trickle on your skin, followed by his whispery chants of your name. You're too turned on by his grunts and moans being close to your ears, salvaging the heated knot in your stomach again.
"Yunho, I'm close..." you mumble, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Just a little bit, hold it out..." he grumbles, delaying his thrusts to drag out your orgasm.
You groan at the sluggish pace, instinctively pushing yourself back into his cock. Though, when he gently yet threateningly, slaps the curve of your back, you yelp and steady yourself.
"Don't even think about it," he warns, rolling his hips into yours and picking up the pace.
"But Yunho—fuck," your whine is cut short to a moan; bringing his hand to the front, from your back, he offers your filled pussy a light slap.
His hand drops from your throat too and instead slides down to tug on your nipples and grope your tits; his fingers scuttle in your flesh, nails leaving little crescent marks behind and his lips tracing kisses along your neck. He straighten his back and wraps both of his hand around your waist, giving him the better weight to sink his cock into you. And he was delivering really harsh thrusts to your back.
"Hmm, Yunho— I can't—I can't hold it in much—much longer." you say in between your moans, and whimpers, knowing how intense the knot in your stomach had tied itself into.
Yunho hums along, "fuck it."
He flips you on your back, with much ease than before and he slows himself down to short and concise thrusts. You're laying on your back, the shackled shirt of his twisting in the process which did not bring any strain to your arms; though you could say that your arms were tired and numb from staying in one position for so long. Yunho likes the sight of you sprawled under him, helpless and desperate; he wraps your legs around his waist and continues to ram into you.
"You're so pretty—so fucking pretty squirming under me," he growls, leaning over you.
He supports his body weight by plopping his hands on either side of your face and diminishes the distance between your faces to kiss you. His lips bring the much-needed placidity to your heart while his cock is stretching you raw, thrusting into your cunt at an animalistic pace and fluttering your walls. The kiss turns hungry and he's soon devouring your face; you arch your back and let your hips roll into his.
This current position causes you to clench around him; while your own orgasm was a few thrusts away, you were also trying to milk his out. Yunho's lips trail down your jaw and then your neck, tongue going over the hickeys he had left before. The knot which had gone limp a few moments ago, comes back with much more force and intense churning of your gut. You push your chest into his, and he starts to increase his pace furthermore. He had gone feral at this point, bucking his hips into with no care whatsoever.
You're both chasing each other's highs. It takes one longing thrust from him, and you're coming undone, releasing your juices all over his cock as he keeps going at it. Yunho pulls himself back, supporting himself on his arms and offers you smug smile.
"Making a mess on my cock, huh?" he groans, your tense walls pushing him to his edge. "Fuck, I'm close too—gonna fill you up..."
It doesn't take long for him to cum either; right after you, after a few more whiling minutes of thrusting and ramming his cock into you, he too comes undone. The warmth of his cum fills you up, and it keeps trickling down your cunt as he slowly pulls out. A few drops fall on your folds and few dribble down on the mattress underneath you. You're breathless, and voiceless, your chest heaving in the air and dropping erratically to compose yourself.
Yunho falls next to you on the twin sized bed, somehow managing to fit himself in the very little space. He turns to face you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling both of your bodies closer. Now, the two of you actually fit on the bed, snuggling close to each other, reeking of sex and sweat. Your hair stuck to your forehead from the sweat, and Yunho strokes a few strands away.
"I'm...I don't know what to say." he begins, hopefully looking into your eyes.
You rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso; both are sweaty and sticky, but it's the least of your concerns now.
"Can we talk about it tomorrow?"
"Well, we really need to address this."
Yunho rubs your back up and down, letting his fingertips caress your skin gently and relax you.
"There's nothing to address, Yunho," you bite back on your tone and use a more subtle one, "this isn't a mistake. Obviously. I like you, a lot. And I'm looking for a prospect relationship here."
"I'm alright with that, but..." he trails off, sighing softly and you prop yourself on your elbows to stare at him, finding his lips trembling, "we're both pursuing our degrees in different cities. So, till we graduate we'll be in a long-distance relationship."
"And what do you think that long distance relationships don't work?" you retort, and eventually, slump yourself back on his chest. While your hands rest on his chest, your fingers draw circles and certain patterns; your sentiments become clearer and you mumble, "I was thinking of moving cities, you know."
"Liyah," he whispers, "you don't have to."
His gradual touches on your arm as you lay on his chest, are soft and warm and so his tone as he speaks up.
"We should move in together after graduation. Let's make this long-distance work; and besides..." he drags his words to a mumble again, only to lean down and kiss your forehead.
"We've been chasing stars for long; may they be in dark or the light. They made me realise I need you in my life."
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ladykailitha · 21 days
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The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 2
Hey, guys! This story is going to be a lot of fun, so buckle in we are in for a ride.
Just a little thing about this chapter that will only make sense in context. But Eddie did NOT start stripping until the previous owner retired. I tried to make that clear, but I'm not sure I did. Again, Eddie danced burlesque but did not strip until he took over as owner of the night club. Got it? Thank you!
Part 1
~
They didn’t have time to build up the Steve turning from the angel Samael to the demon Satan not with him having only three days to learn the dance, so his first appearance on stage was that as the envious Satan.
Steve was wearing a red corset and boy shorts with matching high-heeled pumps and black fishnet stockings.
He started the set that would be his one hour in the spotlight leaning over a stool and then as the spotlight hit his head snapped up, glaring at the audience.
The way his body slunk and shimmied across the stage so different to the bruising stomp of Asmodeus. If Asmodeus was the harsh envy of wanting whatever one else had because he thought he deserved it, then Satan was soft simpering envy of a man who had been denied everything and still wanted, still yearned.
By the time Steve had finished his set that first night, even though he didn’t remove a single article of clothing, the money that was thrown at him was as much as Asmodeus in his heyday. On his first night.
The other dancers had been gathering the thrown money all night and Steve picked up the rest from his finale. They brought it all to Eddie to be counted. Same with the tip jar at the bar. The money for the dancers was a much bigger pile than the one at the bar, but the tip jar wasn’t slouching either.
Eddie carefully doled out the bartenders and waiters tips first. Robin’s eyes going wide as she held few hundred dollars in her hands.
“I didn’t think Sundays would be very popular,” she breathed, carefully dividing it and putting it in separate places so if her purse got stolen she didn’t lose all of it.
Eddie cackled as he counted out the money for the backup dancers first. They got the same amount every night as did the other Sins on their non-starring days while the club and the main dancer got a cut, except Saturday nights when Eddie danced then the dancer’s cut would be divided six ways among the other Sins.
“I think it was people coming in and expecting the new dancer to fall on his face,” Eddie said, handing out the money to his other dancers. “And then were blown away when Stevie here simpered and slunk his way into their hearts and more importantly their pocket books.”
He took his cut and then handed the rest to Steve.
“So it might not be this big next week?” Steve asked, chewing on his lip.
Eddie laughed. “Oh, honey, you have nothing to worry about,” he said, standing up to put an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Give them a chance to watch you dance all this week and especially with the fallen angel dance you and Lilith will do on Saturday. Once they’ve seen that, there’ll be a line outside of the club just to see you.”
“I’m with Eddie on this one,” one of the backup dancers said. She was spunky black girl called Choronzon. Well, her real name was Cheryl but you get the idea. “Asmodeus was a boring, stereotypical stripper. Pole and all. But you? Man you’re going to make everyone else envious, okay?”
Steve ducked his head and blushed. Robin bumped his shoulder with hers.
“Hell,” Gareth said with a giggle at his own stupid pun, “most of us spent that hour of you with the backup dancers just watching you. Something I assure you doesn’t usually happen, not even when we first started.”
“I can’t wait to start dancing with you,” Chrissy said earnestly. “I’ve even asked that you get the same days off as me so it’s expected we dance together.”
“What days are those?” Steve asked sharing a glance with Robin.
Eddie winced. “Yeah, I know you both wanted the same days off, but I could only manage one of the two, sorry. It’s just with the other waiters’ schedules I just couldn’t make it work. You’ll both have Tuesdays off, but Steve will have Fridays off, and Robin with have Thursdays.”
They shrugged. It was better than nothing. Hell, they were even back to back. They could make that work.
Jeff laughed, “He wants Steve to have Fridays off because he’s afraid I’ll be outshined on my own day.”
Steve’s eyebrows shot up at he looked at Eddie in shock. “You really can’t tell me you actually think I’d out lust Lust, do you?”
Eddie scratched his cheek and looked up sheepishly. “Well, not precisely, not really. But you can’t deny you have a sex appeal that can’t be matched or compared. And that’s what we don’t want. People comparing you. Because even so-called progressives still find white people more aesthetically pleasing and the more we can keep people from making that direct comparison the better.”
Steve half shrugged. “I have no problem with that, but I guess that means my dreams of dancing with him have been dashed.”
“Sorry, man,” Jeff said dramatically, “I’m a solo act. I don’t do partners. I inspire lust, I don’t fall victim to it.”
He pretended to faint in Jeff’s arms and he dipped him dramatically. They straightened up with giggles. Eddie was starting to think he might have to swap sins with Steve if his stomach churned every time Steve flirted with someone else.
Which was ridiculous. He didn’t date his dancers and he wasn’t about to start now just because his head was turned by such a pretty face. Besides, it seemed that Steve and Robin were job rovers and they no doubt would get sick of this place and move on to the next one.
“All right,” he said cracking his knuckles as he sat back down at his desk. “The cleaners will be here in a half hour, so if you don’t want to help them, I’d clear out.”
Everyone made a scramble for the doors, all except Steve. He lingered at the door after everyone had left and when Eddie spotted him, he cocked his head to the side.
“Is there something you needed, Steve?”
Steve chewed on his bottom lip and then surged forward. “It is okay that I’m doing the whole angel thing, right? I wasn’t trying to change the theme of your club. I just picked the song to stand out. I figured you had every variation of every song about devils, demons, and hell,” he rambled.
“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie said, holding up his hand, “take a deep breath there before you pass out on me.”
Steve took in a large breath and just stared at him wide eyed.
“Sit down a minute,” he continued and waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk.
Steve wavered a moment before doing as he was told.
“I’ve been managing this club for longer than I’ve owned it,” he began.
Steve blinked at him a moment in shock. “What? It wasn’t originally yours?”
Eddie shook his head. “Nope. Back when I first started here as a dancer, it was called the Kit Cat Titty Club.”
“That’s a horrible name!” Steve said, rearing his head back in disgust.
“That it was,” he agreed. “The owner started it as a proper burlesque club. A throw back to the speakeasies of the 1920s. You had waitresses in bunny suits, cigarette girls, a live jazz band in the corner playing the tunes the dancer would strip to.”
Steve raised an eyebrow, and nodded appreciatively. “Sounds like a fun way to spend your Saturday night.”
Eddie smiled at him. “Yeah it does. Too bad it got hit with the whole steampunk era. No one wanted decadence and jazz music. They wanted Victorian era saloons and public houses. Gas lit halls and lots and lots of ruffles.”
Steve winced in sympathy. He had a couple of friends who had gotten into the phase a few years back. Too many ruffles and gears and too many gears getting caught in said ruffles.
“So what happened?”
“I told him the best way to fight the wave wasn’t join to in,” Eddie said, “but to create something new and it became the Hellfire Exotic Club. Then when he retired a couple years back, he gave it to me. Said it was mine and had been for years anyway, this was only making it official. God, I miss that bastard some days.”
“Yeah, where did he retire to?” Steve asked.
“Back to Bumfuck Middle of Nowhere Indiana,” Eddie huffed. “Or better known as Hawkins.”
Steve cackled. “I’m from there and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to go back.”
“My uncle, Wayne always was more stubborn than he was smart,” Eddie said shaking his head fondly.
“You stripped for your uncle?” Steve asked, his eyes wide.
“No, no,” Eddie said trying to hold in his laughter. “Of course not! Not everyone strips here. Brian, our Greed only gets as far as his pants. Chrissy will leave her g-string on. Like if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have to strip. It’s about sensuality and titillation than bump and grind style stripping. I think that’s why Billy never really fit in here. Because if Billy was anything he was your typical stripper. I know we throw that around a lot but he was it. Here.” He dug around in his desk for a moment and pulled out a picture.
He handed it to Steve. “This is our first night as the Seven Deadly Sins. Everyone else you know, so Billy won’t be hard to pick out.”
Blond, muscled, tanned, and oiled. Typical male stripper. Nothing special. Nothing new.
“Was he someone your uncle hired?” Steve guessed handing the picture back.
“Yeah,” Eddie said, “because he looked good in spats and suspenders. But he never really fit in and maybe that’s why it blew up the way it did. Anyway the point is dancing for my uncle was hell of a lot better than working with my dad, so...” He wagged his eyebrows once.
“What did your dad do?” Steve asked.
“Stole cars.”
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckled. “It’s fine. He’s in jail now in Texas. Third strike, will be in there until I’m old and grey.”
“Shredding on your guitar,” Steve said softly, “while the next generation of Sins dance to your music.”
Eddie smiled fondly. “I like the sound of that.” He cleared his throat. “Shit, we got way off topic there. The point of my story is that this place has changed before and change if done right it’s a good thing. Besides what makes demons so interesting is that they used to be angels. People love a hero, but what they love even more than a hero is to see that hero fall. We’ve just never tapped into that potential yet,” he finished with a shrug. “So don’t you be worrying that pretty head of yours, okay? I’m good at this.”
Steve smiled and stood back up. “That does help. Thanks.” He scratched his cheek and then hummed. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I guess so,” Eddie replied softly. “Good night, Steve.”
“Night, Eddie.”
Once Steve was had left, closing the door behind him, he buried his head in hands. This was going to be hell. He could feel it.
There was just something...sparkling about Steve. Something bright and beautiful. And Eddie couldn’t believe his luck. He doesn’t know why Robin left work at the rec center where Steve taught pole dancing as exercise, or even what she did there, but he could tell they were both really worried about money right now.
But whatever the reason for their leaving, he doubly grateful they landed in his lap. She was a good waitress and Steve was a phenomenal dancer.
But unlike every other dancer who had walked through those doors and into his life, Steve also walked into his heart too. And Chrissy crushing on Robin wasn’t good, this was bad. He couldn’t be seen to have favorites.
So he would have to keep his distance.
Famous last words, he knew. Fate liked throwing curve balls at Eddie, and he really should have been more careful about making promising he couldn’t keep.
~
Part 3 Part 4
Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS OPEN
1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff
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onlyswan · 2 years
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summary: in which alcohol plus k-drama is equals to your and jungkook’s tears.
> fluff / wc: 4k
> warnings: oc’s first attempt at becoming a pro bartender lmao they both drink alcohol!!, alchemy of souls spoilers!! (they watch the ending of part 2), mention of a stab and blood, they cry over character deaths together >:( (sike?) maybeee a little surprise bc jk is so in love y’all idk what else to say </3 💍
note: welcome to the result of my jungkook + aos brainrot. you can read more of inwhich!jk in glasses in this drabble. :D thank you anonie who sent this ask! + as always i’d appreciate it a lot if you lmk if you enjoyed mwamwa <3
“i miss my boyfriend.” you sigh dramatically as you slump over the dining table, popping a vodka-soaked cherry in your mouth.
despite being hopelessly in love, you and jungkook don’t necessarily feel obliged to spend every second of every day with each other. of course, it was different at the early stages of your relationship, when you had to cross oceans and move mountains to spend time together, even if it meant hugging for only ten minutes and parting ways again.
however, things changed when you started living under one roof. the burning passion of your love isn’t dying down, no. in fact, you would go as far as saying that it is growing more gracefully ardent. after all, there is no greater peace than knowing that at the end of the day, wherever the street signs and the unmarked paths may lead you to, you and jungkook choose to come home to each other’s arms. is this not the real honeymoon phase, as they like to call it?
he left early this sunday morning to attend a small reunion with his childhood friends in busan, while you spent the day reading a book and painting the numbers one to ten of the little paint by numbers kit you stumbled upon at the book store last week.
it’s a sunny day on an abundant island, with a lighthouse standing close to the edge. and maybe, just maybe, you regret ignoring the simple flower bouquet beside it because the details drawn on this canvas are the literal definition of tiny. you ended up feeling dizzy by afternoon because of the strain it caused to your fucked up vision.
to make matters worse, the doorbell rung at around 5pm, and a minute later you were already unboxing the basics cocktail set you ordered two days ago. it includes a 18- and 28-ounce shaker set, jigger that has a dual-side (ounce and two-ounce) pourers, strainer, muddler, and bar spoon.
to summarize what you’ve been doing with your life lately: you’re trying to explore the random things you’ve always been curious about, in hopes that they’ll help you find new hobbies and interests.
you thought about baking, but jungkook already does that, and quite frankly, you’re not at a place in your life where you have a high capacity for the patience it requires. mixing drinks, on the other hand, takes a relatively shorter time to do. and what makes it even more enticing is that you can take a shot whenever you mess up, as if you’re playing a drinking game.
there’s no better way to spend your sunday evening, right?
“baby, why the hell are all the alcohol outside of the cabinets?”
right… except you’re already intoxicated… and the world is spinning. you’re desperately yearning to hug jungkook, so he can make it stop, but you’re not even sure if he’s coming home or he’s staying over at his parent’s house for the night.
you react belatedly to the confused voice, lifting your head to squint at the man who grabbed a bottle of white wine from the cluttered countertop.
“hey, who are you? the bar is closed. put that down.”
he laughs lightheartedly when he realizes how drunk you’ve gotten. as he places it back down, the bottle clinks against the cold white stone. your heavy head collapses on top of your outstretched arm as he walks towards the opposite side of the dining table.
you open your eyes, one before the other, when you feel a presence hogging your space. a sheepish smile curves your lips as the beautiful face of your dear beloved greets you.
jungkook’s prescription glasses moves with his scrunched up nose as he grins at you playfully. “it’s the boyfriend you said you were missing.”
you reach out for him as soon as he finishes saying the sentence, silently asking to be embraced. slaves to your touch — his hands, which are resting on the sharp edge of the table and the top rail of your chair, eagerly slip down to encircle your waist.
you lazily lean your cheek on his shoulder, revelling in his welcoming body warmth. “why are you back early? aren’t you tired? you should’ve just rested at your house.”
“mhmm, i had to.” he hums, deep and raspy voice making his chest vibrate against yours. “we talked about marriage and all that jazz. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
with an airy huff, you pull away to glare up at him childishly. “i sure hope you’re not thinking about anybody else.”
he runs his tongue across his lips, unconsciously tugging at the silver lip ring with his teeth, but his loving smile stays. “you know that you’re the only one for me.”
“still! i like to hear it from you sometimes.” you giggle before taking a sip from a cold glass of cherry limeade, a refreshing treat you’ve been enjoying since before he arrived.
“vodka?”
“vodka.”
you swallow once more before handing him the glass, swaying your feet under the table as the delicious mixture of sweet and tart permeates your tongue.
“mhmm, wow!” he exclaims after taking a sip, tilting the glass a little bit to the side to look at the light red beverage with knitted eyebrows. “wait a minute- why is this so good?!”
you excitedly tug at the hem of his sweatshirt, begging for more pats on the head. “i had a lot of fun using the shaker.”
he lightly kicks out the chair to your right so he can take a seat, shrugging off the backpack full of clean clothes you packed for him last night incase he wanted to stay longer in busan.
“i did well with this one, right?”
he enthusiastically nods in response as he takes another gulp, chewing on the block of ice that also managed to slip inside his mouth. you melt into his affectionate touch when he cups your cheek with his delicate palm.
“maybe making drinks has been your specialty all along.”
you frown in disagreement. “i’m not sure. i made bloody mary before that one and i don’t know if i did something horribly wrong or it’s just supposed to taste that disgusting.”
amused laughter racks his body as he takes in the endearing sight of your genuinely downcast expression. you jut out your bottom lip in annoyance.
“it really tasted like poison! i got goosebumps!”
“shit, now i’m scared of you actually getting alcohol poisoning.” the back of your hand is rewarded with a sweet kiss by jungkook’s vodka-stained lips. the wide doe eyes behind his glasses meet yours curiously. “your hand smells like coffee.”
“oh- oh! the dalgona martini!” you rip your hand away from his to point at the martini glass standing at the very center of the dining table. “i just finished that. it should still be cold.”
he carefully slides the glass towards him to avoid spillage, fascinated lips forming a pout as he observes the thick portion of dalgona sitting on top of the mixed baileys and vodka. he didn’t even notice it at all because it’s almost the same color as the wood. has his vision gotten that bad?
“this looks yummy. you haven’t tried it yet?”
you shake your head, which you instantly regret because your vision blacks out momentarily. you swallow thickly as you attempt to blink away the shiny, swirly shapes dancing infront of your eyes.
“fuck, no. i already had classic martini, and mule. i’ll throw up.”
“jesus christ, baby. how many drinks did you try making?” jungkook finds himself so worried that he harshly takes off his glasses without reason, putting it aside on the table.
you giggle loudly at his reaction, using your folded arms as a pillow. “that’s all! i promise! besides, didn’t you drink with your friends, too?”
his face glows with uncontainable fondness at the mention of his friends.
“i was talking and laughing the whole time that i didn’t even finish half of my beer.”
your hazy eyes study his jovial and carefree features, and just like magic, they make your heart feel lighter inside your chest. heavens know that you wish for nothing more in the world than to see him this happy everyday.
“i’m so glad you had a great time, my love.”
“me too. i’ll tell you all about it when you’re sober and capable of memory retention.” he pokes fun at your drunken state as he picks up the glass of dalgona martini.
you roll your eyes before impatiently guiding the drink to his mouth. “just drink it already.”
“oing?” he blinks in disbelief, sipping on the glass again as if his tongue could’ve possibly fooled him the first time. ”i actually like this one more. i didn’t expect that.”
you abruptly perk up in your seat upon witnessing his candid review. “what? you’re joking!”
of course… you’re cursed. it had to be the one you hated making the most.
truth be told, you impulsively made the dalgona martini simply because it’s the only drink in the last online blog you found that you had the complete ingredients for.
you were obviously not prepared enough for this activity. but baileys, vodka, sugar, coffee, and water? yeah, any house would definitely have those.
then came your ridiculous dilemma: despite being intoxicated, you’re still terrified of using the electric whisker. and so, you had to do the whisking the hard way. to put it lightly, it was absolute hell. your arms and wrists are sore after shaking and whisking vigorously for the past three hours.
“it’s exactly what i needed after a long trip.” he moans. his shoulders spring up in delight as he licks off the foam around his lips, and you use your thumb to brush it away from the spots he missed.
jungkook grabs your hand before you could pull away, making you audibly gasp when he sucks at your thumb in his cold mouth. his insatiable tongue pokes the inside of his cheek after.
“uh- i think i tasted a hint of soap.”
“‘course you did. i just washed the dishes, you dummy.”
his pink lips part open as he processes your words, but he quickly brushes it off with a shrug. he noisily takes another sip from the glass.
“i can just clean it off my tongue with more martini.” he argues with a dimpled grin.
he grants you with a quick kiss, smudging the foam on his lips and transferring some of it to yours.
“ugh, you’re so sloppy!”
his laughter echoes in your home as he walks away. “i’m taking this with me to the bathtub!”
“don’t take an hour in there again.” you grumble out a complaint. “we need to watch alchemy of souls!”
“even if you decide to seal that door, i know how heartbreaking it will be for you, so it does not upset me so much.”
the flashback from four episodes ago confirms that it was foreshadowing this moment — park jin had sealed the door of jinyowon, a deep cave where relics are protected so they won’t unleash life-threatening dangers upon the world outside. lady jin and maidservant kim are stuck inside the collapsing sanctuary, holding back said relics from escaping… and the latter is none other than his wife-to-be.
jungkook anxiously bites the nails of his thumb and pinky finger, switching back and forth. the television screen reflects on the lens of his glasses as his eyes become shiny with tears.
“is this really the final episode? there’s no season three?”
“no, it ends tonight.” you reply in between embarrassing loud sobs, attention trained to the man mournfully calling out his lover’s name over and over again as he clutches her engagement ring to his chest.
the hot tears you fail to catch stream down to your temples, and then your boyfriend’s naked stomach. you’ve comfortably settled on the bed after finishing your nightly routines. your head is lying by the bottom of his ribcage, and that’s where the other edge of the cozy blanket enveloping the two of you rests. you grabbed a small portion of the cotton in a loose fist, and you’ve been keeping it close to wipe your tears with.
“oh my god, i can’t fucking do this. my head is being split open.”
you toss aside the remote control after pausing the episode, crawling to the nightstand to pop the painkiller in your mouth, which you prepared to be supposedly taken tomorrow morning. maybe you’ve sobered up a little, but the combination of the alcohol and the woeful crying have resulted to an agonizing migraine.
with his long and slender fingers, your boyfriend removes the hair that stuck to your tear-stained face before tenderly wiping your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
“making my baby fucking cry, too. i need that son of a bitch jin mu to burn in hell.” he curses to release his pent-up anger from the past 29 episodes, referring to the main antagonist of the series. the harshness of his tone contrasts the gentle kiss that lingers at the corner of your lips.
after drinking water, you wipe away jungkook’s tears with tissue paper, gingerly dabbing at the sides of his nose as well. he has a very sensitive skin, and because tears do contain salt, they can cause slight irritation and stinging when he cries. it’s something he once quietly complained about in passing, but somehow, it stuck with you throughout the years.
“does it hurt a lot?” he worriedly caresses the back of your head.
you meekly nod in response.
“should we just watch the rest of it tomorrow then?”
“noooo.” you drag out the word, shifting on the bed to return to your previous position. “my pain is nothing to compared park jin’s pain. i must persevere.”
and just like that, your tired eyes begin to water again. jungkook chuckles, affectionately holding your face in his hands. he isn’t surprised to find your skin to be warmer than normal.
“aigoo, your eyes are so red. at least put your glasses back on.”
“fine.” you mumble in defeat as you pat around the mattress, looking for the glasses you haphazardly threw aside when your intense emotions started to take control over you.
his rosy cheeks rise like buns in an oven as he smiles. “i love it when we match.”
park jin stands before the greedy individuals who conspired to steal the foundation of jinyowon, the fire bird, which dries up the world when it is awakened. it will be used in a rain ritual to create another ice stone, a ball of energy similar to that of the sun or a star. and to point out the obvious, having it in your possession would mean becoming the most powerful being there is.
“evil always does what it wants without ever stopping. but why is it that virtue always needs to prove itself over and over again?”
“…yes. i do wish to save her. i would do anything to save her, even if it meant i would lose my sanity. but even so, i will stop you from getting what you want. not a single one of you has the right to laugh at me… and call me… a hypocrite.”
you feel jungkook shiver below you. he is immensely engrossed with the actor’s phenomenal performance, flawlessly depicting what ‘seething’ anger means. he puts his tattooed arm underneath his head to get a closer view of the subtitles. these have to be some of the best written lines he’s heard from this show so far, and he hopes to remember them by heart.
the two of you watched with bated breath when he starts fighting against several warriors, and then it happens… jin mu removes the barrier of the fire bird as a threat.
“oh, fuck you!” you kick your feet in annoyance.
park jin is forced to focus his energy on re-sealing the fire bird, leaving him vulnerable to the attacks of his merciless opponents.
“no, no, no.” jungkook chants under his breath, heart thundering with fear. “this can’t be happening.”
you know what is bound to happen. they did show three coffins at the end of episode nine. but denial denial denial is a stage of grief after all, and so, with a broken sob, you squeeze your eyes shut.
when your eyelids flutter open, a sword has already been driven through the center of his chest, and dark red blood uncontrollably spills from his mouth. jin mu spitefully pulls it out from behind before he weakly falls on the ground. jungkook stays quiet, it happens so fast but he feels suspended in time, while your horrified crying carries on.
you unwillingly remove your head from his chest before you can cry a river over his shirtless torso, opting to sit up beside him.
“bunch of cowards.” he couldn’t resist mocking as the group scrambles to leave the place before it completely burns down, jin mu taking re-sealed fire bird along with them.
park jin jolts awakes coughing up blood. he painfully forces himself to lie on his back, and the camera reveals that he’s been holding maidservant kim’s ring all along. with trembling hands, he puts the ring on himself. you cover your own mouth as you listen to his worn out sobs.
a look of love and admiration shines on his dull eyes, and you swear that he smiles softly, before his arms fall limp on the dusty ground.
is the moon watching? and the stars? have they ever witnessed something so gutwrenchingly tragic?
“he wore the ring on his pinky! and it didn’t even fit halfway!” your glasses is left abandoned beside you again as you finally allow yourself to weep freely.
seeing that you clearly need a break after that heartbreaking scene, jungkook pauses the episode.
“that’s so cute, but-” you hiccup. “this is so unfair. they were supposed to get married and have babies!”
“oh, baby. i know.” he coos softly, hugging your side and peppering your cheek with kisses. his own tears drip from his chin and he brushes them away with the back of his hand. “their souls will be together in after life though, don’t you think?”
you gradually grow quiet and calm at the thought he proposed, but- “i don’t think they can make babies there.”
“shit.” he chuckles as his forehead lands over your shoulder, glasses slightly sliding down his nosebridge. “you’re right.”
“this is too much. i can’t-” you blow your nose in sheets of tissue paper before throwing them in the bin you dragged next to the bed earlier. “it hurts so much. they just wanted a peaceful life together.”
the two of you grieve for the what if’s and what could’ve been’s. he can’t possibly think of anything more tragic than being forced in a position to choose between the love of your life and the humanity; only to end up perishing at the hands of the evil who made you do it.
and what did he have left? a lifetime’s worth of love to take with him to the grave, and whatever’s left of his pride and dignity? jungkook wouldn’t want any of those. he only wants you.
he lifts up his head, a small smile playing on his lips, swollen and cherry-colored from the nervous nibbles of his bunny teeth. “we’re crying like this and they’re not even the main characters.”
“need to sue the writers for emotional damages.” you groan, tense muscles slowly relaxing in your boyfriend’s embrace. “how many minutes left?”
“40 minutes.”
“i can’t even open my eyes anymore. sorry, babe. my head-”
it’s almost as if it’s been dunked underwater. the throbbing pain spreads numbing pressure from your temples to the back of your head.
“i told you we can finish it tomorrow. it’s fine.”
jungkook briefly leaves your side. the television screen turns black after he pulls out the plug. he throws away the crumpled tissue papers, and then he places your glasses on the safety of the nightstand.
“how cute… don’t fall asleep on me yet.” he fondly coos at your half-asleep figure. “you’re dehydrated. drink some water first.”
a straw pokes your lips. with your eyes shut closed, you hold onto his wrist to steady the tumbler as you take a long sip. by the time you let go, the water has reached the line indicating that there’s only three quarters of it left.
you softly fall back on your pillow with a ‘thump’, turning your back on him to face his empty side of the bed. he also drinks his share of the water before filling in the blank beside you.
he hums in acknowledgement when you pull at his arm to make it your personal pillow, leaving his own glasses on the nightstand as well before facing you.
you give him a small hazy smile, threading your fingers through his soft and luscious hair. “love your pretty and healthy hair.”
“i love you.” he whispers like a confession as he strokes the back of your head. “close your eyes now.”
“i love you, too.” with a peaceful sigh, you nuzzle your face against his chest. “jungkook?”
“hmmm?”
“were you happy today?”
a lump grows in his throat, bigger than the one he felt when he was browsing through engagement rings online. emerald cut, cushion cut, round cut. sapphire, ruby, diamond. size 4, 4.5, 5, 5.5, 6, 6.5… he was hanging on the thin line that separated excitement and anxiety. the two-hour train ride passed by like a radio song he didn’t pay attention to. but you don’t need to know about that. not right now.
he swallows it down, embracing you tighter. “i still am… happy. if i delete those scenes from my memory.”
“me too.” you mumble before succumbing to the void of darkness beneath your heavy eyelids.
between the alcohol and the coffee that he simultaneously drank, it looks like the latter won the upper hand. more than twenty minutes later, jungkook is still wide awake, overcome by his clamorous thoughts. the conversations he had with his friends echo in his mind, and he paces back and forth between your shared past and future. the future… there is no future if there is no you.
he closes his eyes, instructing himself to focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest instead of the things he cannot control.
he kisses the top of your head. “i love you so much.”
however, he won’t be able to sleep peacefully until he learns what happens next. he needs the closure because he would truly despise having a bad dream about them. after all, they didn’t show maidservant kim dying. there is a glowing firefly of hope he’s been enchanted to follow into the abyss of the night.
with careful movements, he wears his glasses and his wireless earbuds. he holds his phone using the arm you’re lying on, while his hand under the blanket absentmindedly rubs your back, palm smoothly running up and down the expanse of your skin.
his jaw slacks open only three minutes after he picked up where you left off. jang uk, the male lead of the show, reveals to those grieving infront of the three empty coffins that their loved ones did not pass away.
the following scene unveils park jin, alive yet unconscious on a bed, and maidservant kim who is holding his ring-clad hand, weeping for the traumatic night the two of them suffered.
jungkook chuckles in great relief, blinking away the tears from his glassy eyes.
“fuck, they’re alive.”
“fuck, they’re alive!” you almost choke on the haejangguk, a hangover soup, that you started to heartily eat not even two minutes ago. “i almost died crying last night and it turns out that they lied to me?!”
jungkook chooses to feign ignorance. he innocently watches the screen with his wide doe eyes, bunny teeth biting at the rim of his glass of white milk.
“wow, i’m speechless.“ he squeaks out. “how did they even get rescued?”
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