#this is by no means my best work and has almost none of the stuff i learned last year in it

[dawnthefluffyduck]

One minute til' midnight (more design-accurate sketches below)

Yeah y'all know the drill by now, this fine specimen from this wonderful story by @patchwork-crow-writes

[sadhours]

steve with a degradation kink 👀 jokingly calling him a pervert and he gets so flushed and embarrassed

heheh no I love this

steve harrington x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, steve and reader are childhood best friends, one use of y/n, perv!steve, degradation kink, oral (f receiving), hand stuff

💖💖💖💖

you noticed your best friend reacted strangely to criticism. depending on the person. when his dad criticized him, his face went stoic and he replied to Mr. Harrington with one word answers. same kind of thing when his boss did it at work, though he wore his annoyance on his face then. when robin did it, he rolled his eyes. but when pretty girls who weren’t lesbians, at least to his knowledge, did it, his face got all flushed and his pupils would about double in size. and you found that intriguing. you’d done it plenty within the long years of your friendship but you’d never actually looked at how he responded. until one day.

a winter day. it was too cold to chill by the pool and the harrington’s were home. so you were confined to his horridly designed bedroom. god awful lamp lighting the room dimly as the sun was beginning to set. steve was propped up on the floor, back against his mattress as he tossed a baseball up and caught it. over and over. he looked as bored as you felt.

you got up from the floor and decided to go digging through his bedroom. not entirely sure what you were looking for but there had to be something entertaining in here. you start with his desk, opening drawers and scoping out the insides.

“yeah, just go through my stuff,” steve says with a shrug, voice dripping in sarcasm, “that’s totally cool.”

“oh, wah,” you mock him, “i’m bored. there’s gotta be something interesting tucked away in here.”

steve throws you an annoyed look, “yeah and that’s why i’m playing catch with myself.”

you ignore him, continuing to file through his belongings. you manage through his desk, then his dresser drawers and nightstand. it’s when you drop to the floor and peek under his bed that you find something. a box. you pull it out and steve scrambles to slam his hand on top of it.

“alright, ha ha ha, you had your fun! stop going through my stuff,” he says, eyes wide and worried.

you scoff, lips curling up with the exhale, “oh, no, that reaction tells me i just found the jackpot. what’s in the box, steven?”

“none of your business,” he says sternly, moving to slide it back under the bed but you stop it, fingers hooking into the lid and steve lunges forward, almost crushing the box with his body as he looks up at you panicked. “i mean it, y/n.”

“now i really gotta see what’s in here,” you go to tug it away and steve bear hugs the box. “c’mon, steve, i know every single one of your secrets. this can’t be that bad.”

“it’s personal, something’s you don’t need to know,” he insists, lips dropping into a frown.

you pull again, resulting in the pair of you wrestling for the box. the motions knock it over, spilling the contents out on the rug. to no one’s shock, it’s porn. magazines and two tapes. but kind of surprisingly, there’s panties and uh, Polaroids of Nancy. Not explicit by any means. Just photos of her smiling.

“oh, Steve,” you grab one of the photos and hold it up to inspect, “Nancy made it in the spank bank? Ya know, these aren’t even dirty, you don’t have to like, hide them.”

“Please, for the love of God,” his face is as red as a fire truck, it’s kind of… cute, seeing Steve so embarrassed. He’s usually so calm and collected. The coolest dude you know. “Stop looking.”

“Why?” you giggle, “This is by far the most interesting thing in this room.”

Then you tilt your head as you see it. Oh. That’s why. There’s Polaroid of you. In a bikini. In the backyard, lounged by the pool. Steve scrambles for it but you’re able to snatch it first.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp, examining the photo carefully. You remember the day it was taken. Just this past summer. You’d gotten a new bikini, you were excited to wear it. Red. “Like Phoebe Cates,” Steve had said and you uh, surprisingly didn’t pick up on it. That Steve looked at you like that. Looking back, it makes sense, the way he ran in to get his camera. The fact he compared you to a celebrity he’d been Gaga over.

He’s completely silent as he watches you connect the dots. Steve is attracted to you. Steve jacks off to you. You’ve made it in the spank bank. This information is intoxicating. It’s a mutual attraction. Hell, you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve laid back and flicked the bean with your best friend, Steve Harrington, in mind. The day he sprouted chest hair and his body got a little more muscular, you’d been bombarded with an overwhelming attraction to the guy. You swallow hard, then your eyes drop as Steve’s hand moves to grab a pair of underwear that was also in the box. You drop the photo and grab his wrist, eyes meeting his and the absolute panic in his eyes is… weirdly arousing to you. Then you see the pair, eyes scanning over the white cotton and faded print of cherries decorating them.

“Are those my underwear, Steve?” you ask, glancing back up at him.

“No,” he lies, won’t meet your eyes as he stares down at them in his hand.

“Did you steal my underwear, Steve?”

“Why would I do that?” he replies, looking up at you finally, trying to look nonchalant.

You swallow hard, you should be furious but you’re… you’re not. You’re turned on. This absolute creep behavior, but coming from Steve, it’s so… sweet and vulnerable. Makes you look into those big brown eyes and want to kiss his face all over. But Steve seems to like the humiliation. And it’s making your body erupt in desire.

“Because you’re a pervert,” you tell him, watching as his pupils double in size and he inhales sharply. He swallows and you see his Adam’s apple bob with the motion.

“No, I’m not,” he says, voice quiet and breathy.

“Yes, you are,” you tug the underwear from his hands and look down at them, trying to remember the last time you’d worn them. You and Steve has countless sleepovers, your parents trusted him beyond belief and his parents were rather distant. There were so many opportunities to fool around but it never happened. Which now you think is a little surprising, considering there was that attraction and you’d shared beds as hormonal teens. Can’t believe you’re discovering it now as “adults”. But maybe that’s why you feel bold enough to push him on his back, crawling over to straddle his waist and you can feel his erection hidden underneath his jeans. You hold up the panties, “You smell these while you jerk off to me?”

It’s almost as if you’re not yourself, watching this unfold from a outside perspective. You haven’t even been this confident with boyfriends before but you know Steve, and you’ve been wanting more than a friendship for quite some time. Steve jerks off to you, it’s new information that makes this almost impossible not to act on. It inflates your ego, makes your heart swell twice in size. Because the implication, he knows you better than anyone else, clearly the attraction has to be more than purely physical.

He doesn’t reply, swallows hard again and just stares up at you. His big brown eyes look hazy, aroused and you can feel that he is where your ass is sat against his crotch. He can’t deny he’s turned on. And you wiggle against him, to silently tell him you are too. Fuck, he’s your best friend. How long as he felt this way? Because you’re sure you’ve been in love with him for years. And to find out this way? Not to mention that he seems to be reacting to you calling him a pervert.

You shove the panties up against his nose, “You totally do. You sniff these and stare at the picture while you jerk off! You’re such a perv, Steve!”

He writhes against you, moaning pathetically against the cotton.

“That’s disgusting,” you laugh, playing the part and he whines this time, closes his eyes and sniffs the panties. it’s so hot, and embarrassing at the same time. You’re almost at a loss for words but he seems to like when you make fun of him. “You’re so pathetic, oh my god.”

He opens his eyes, begging you silently. You inhale sharply before continuing. “Bet they don’t even smell like me anymore. I’ve been missing these for months,” you comment, shoving them against his nose once more before standing up. Steve watches you intently, frozen on the ground. You slide the pair of panties you’re currently wearing down your thighs, kicking them off and picking them up before you straddle Steve again. You can feel how soaked they are in your palm. So you shove them against his nose, giggling as you ask, “They used to smell like this?”

Steve’s eyes widen before they roll back as he inhales your scent, no doubt feeling how wet they are.

“You like that?” you laugh cruelly, “god, steve. i didn’t know you were such a sad, pathetic pervert.”

“fuck,” he moans, rolling his hips up at you and the rough denim catches against your clit, pulls a noise from you that has your eyes widening and your dominant demeanor faltering as you grind back down on him. Steve’s eyes meet yours and Christ, he looks pretty and desperate.

“You like me telling you what a perv you are, huh?” you ask.

“yeah,” he breathes out, hands closing into fists by his sides as he rolls his hips up again.

you gasp, trying to maintain composure as his jeans run against your clit again. you wonder if steve can feel how wet you are, if you’re soaking through his denim.

“such a pathetic loser,” you mutter, rubbing your soiled panties against his face, “so desperate for your best friend. wanna taste? go ahead, pervert, taste them.”

with your permission, steve opens his mouth and licks against your underwear. you shove them against him harder and he closes his lips around a bit of them, sucking your juices from the fabric. Moans when he does it, which makes you grind down harder against him.

“bet you’ve been dreaming about the real thing,” you breathe out, “huh, Stevie? you stroke your cock and imagine licking my pussy?”

“mhm,” he replies, still sucking on the cotton. his eyes are so wide and pretty as he stares up at you.

“such a loser,” you pout, tilting your head as you watch him. “think you deserve it?”

“please,” he begs, rolls his hips again.

“desperate for my pussy, aren’t you?” you ask but it’s funny, because you’re desperate for him.

Steve keens, jerks his hips up as his hands venture towards your hips before he drops them back at his sides. Like he’s nervous to touch you. You lean down, tossing your underwear aside as you hover your lips over his. Then you whisper, “Do you wanna eat me out, Steve?”

“Please don’t be fucking with me,” he replies, all soft and wrecked.

“That a yes?” you retort, licking your lips.

He nods, the motion makes his lips graze slightly against yours and it’s difficult not to kiss him. But your core is aching, just the idea of his gorgeous mouth on your heat has you a little feral and you rut down against him before inching up.

“Can I sit on your face, Stevie?” you ask, voice coming out more wrecked than you’d intended. Sounds weird on your ears. Didn’t know you could sound so sultry.

“Please,” he begs, writhing underneath you. “Fuck, please, pretty please sit on my face.”

You’re languid with the motion, pulling your skirt up as you climb up him and into position. He’s staring at your cunt, lips parted and pupils as wide as saucers. Licks his lips and you giggle, peering down at him as you begin to speak, “Look so desperate…”

He replies by wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down on him. His mouth is warm and wet and determined. Steve elicits a moan as soon as he makes contact and it sends vibrations through your whole body. You gasp, holding your skirt up with your left hand while you push his hair off his forehead with the other. Steve is working his mouth on your cunt like he’s making out with it, tongue lashing and lips sucking all while he stares up at you and keeps moaning against your folds. You’ve had other men eat you out before but never like this. Never so determined, never seemed to be enjoying it so much.

There were rumors about Steve, you’d heard girls talk about this. You’d always feigned disgust. He was your best friend, you didn’t wanna hear about his bedroom skills. But deep down, you’d always wondered what he did differently. You haven’t ever had the urge to brag about the men you’d been with. They’d all been pretty mediocre.

The difference is Steve loves this. He’s hungry for it. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you firmly against his mouth and he’s… he’s moving his head with the motions. Groaning into you.

Your lips fall open, brows knitting together as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair. Staring down at your gorgeous best friend as he devours you. Then his hands move up, snaking under the hem of your shirt and he unclasps your bra in quick time, impressing you briefly before his hands move knead and grope at your breasts. With the grip on your thighs gone, you’re able to move your hips and they grind down on his face on their own volition. Fuck, you’re trying to keep quiet but it’s hard. His tongue flicks against your clit, flat and repetitive as his fingers swirl around your pebbled nipples. You whine, riding his face as you chase your high. The deep, tight coil in your stomach is threatening to snap at any second. You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life.

“God, you fucking pervert,” you whine, writhing against his mouth, “Feels so fucking good.”

Steve moans his appreciation, eyes rolling back slightly. He pinches your nipple and you’re a goner. Eyes squeezing shut as bright stars of light dance around behind your lids. Steve’s taking it well, sucking and licking up all that you give him. Doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him and rolling onto your back beside him. You’re breathing heavily and it quickly turns into pleasure fueled giggles. Then Steve’s reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers, squeezing.

“So, uh, now you know my biggest secret,” he breathes out, and you turn to see the sweetest smile on his face.

You smirk, “That you’re a sick pervert? I did know that already.”

He flushes, turning and shoving his face against your neck. You roll over to wrap your hand around his middle and squeeze him. Your mouth against his ear as you whisper, “I uh, also touch myself to you. Just like thoughts though, not uh, not pictures.”

“I get it,” he mumbles, “I’m a giant perv.”

“You are,” you giggle, “But I like it. Should’ve known it when I wore that bikini and you said it reminded you of phoebe cates.”

Steve laughs at that, “Yeah, you’re kind of oblivious.”

“Shut up, perv,” you reply, moving your hand lower and palming against his cock strained by his jeans, “Or I won’t help you get rid of this.”

“Oh, you wanna help?” Steve asks, the humor wavering as he rocks his hips up at your hand.

“Uh-huh,” you pull back just slightly, so you can look at his face while you unbutton his jeans. He helps you get them down his thighs, briefs following suit. You lick your palm before wrapping your fingers around his cock, glancing down and gasping. Fuck, he’s huge. Your eyes dart back up to his face and he’s smiling, all cocky. He knows it’s big. You’re sure he’s been told so a hundred times so you don’t say anything. You squeeze him while gazing into his beautiful brown eyes, you’d always loved how they sloped just slightly down. And they were so big and wide, so expressive. They are right now as you start to slowly stroke him. He blinks rapidly, licking his lips.

“Can’t believe you look at a photo of me while you jack off,” you mumble, “Seriously, Steve. It’s pretty pathetic.”

There go those expressive eyes, full of arousal— desperation. You don’t avert yours as you squeeze his base, slow and deliberate as you stroke up and swipe your thumb against his weeping tip. You raise an eyebrow, “You get this wet when you’re jerking off to me?”

He whines, bites his lip as his eyebrows furrow. Looks so sweet and needy. It’s the prettiest Steve’s ever looked.

“It’s pathetic because Stevie, you could’ve had me this whole time,” you mumble against his lips, fingers spreading his precum down his shaft and he’s really so wet, you can hear it as you stroke him up and down. Making sure to squeeze where it counts, base and head. Repeatedly. He whines against you. Bucks his hips because you’re going too slow. So you pull your hand away, “Ah-ah, you need to be a good boy for me, Steve.”

He whimpers, music to your ears, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good. Don’t stop, baby.”

The pet name warms you all over. Can’t help but grip his cock again, stroking him more deliberately this time. He whines, all high pitched and pretty against your lips. You give up the teasing, determined to get your best friend off. Curving your palm on every upstroke, whispering against his lips, “Cum for me, baby. Show me what a sick, little pervert you are.”

Steve groans, moves his hand up to cup your jaw as he bucks his hips again. But you let him. Let him fuck your fist. His mouth falls open in a silent moan as he coats your hand in his release, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so hot, you feel your own slick coating your thighs from it.

You let go of him, he rolls on his back and smiles as he sighs, eyes still closed. You clean his mess up with your skirt, a problem to deal with at another time. And for the first time in your friendship, you and Steve are absolutely speechless. Laying side by side. But he’s the one to break the silence.

“Should we like, make out now?” he asks, propping himself on his elbow as he looks down at you, “Ya know, so it’s not weird.”

“Yeah, cus that’s what would make this not weird,” you tell him but you hook a leg over his waist and straddle him, grabbing onto his face and kissing him stupid anyways.

[venusiangguk]

the art of trying | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 29.3k 😁

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, oc club era 🪩🥂, oc heart to heart with…, enter mr park seojoon !!, budding friendships 🥰, mending of relationships, enter dilf !!, reconciliation finally, but still we yearn, and jk is still a little stewpid, however!! he is doing his best!!, mostly oc pov i think, warning for a little bit of sad bc she is sad !!, but not too sad 😼, enter jock !!, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank u, etc., fore play in the form of a lil dry humping 🫶🏻, finishes (multiple),, oral (m & f), dirty talk, lovesick gross smitteness 👎🏻, jreampie 👍🏻,  and finally, enter nari !! (🧋)

>>notes: finally am i right 🤣

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: you’re trying to forget jungkook, but he’s trying to make sure you remember why you shouldn’t. 

It’s the middle of January and I haven’t learned to be okay without you, yet. The wind outside is harsh and cold. It hurts my feelings sometimes. 

 It reminds me of you, sometimes, too.

 I still miss you.

 “Girl, what does that even mean?”

 Your laptop gets slammed shut, and you whip your head around to see Binna. Your very best friend that has been caught red-handed, reading over your shoulder.

 “Do you mind?” you say with narrowed eyes.

 “I do actually,” she says, walking around the couch and plopping next to you. 

 You roll your eyes and rephrase with something she’s hopefully less likely to have an answer to. “Can I help you?”

 Binna looks stumped for approximately .4 seconds –not nearly long enough to be satisfying– and then she’s saying, “No, but you can help yourself. Please go to therapy. I am begging you and also I will pay for it.” 

 “Die.”

 “C’mon, you’ve been sad for like almost 2 months,” she groans, “and it’s like… tangible, ___. I walk into the house and I can feel it. It just permeates the air and– look, it even killed the plant.”

 Binna’s pointed finger guides your gaze to the small succulent on the windowsill and it’s a bit pathetic how your eyes start to tear up because it is in fact, the tiny succulent Jeongguk gave you so many months ago. You had done a good job of taking care of it for a while, his occasional texts reminding you to water it had been helpful. But lately you haven’t even really been taking care of yourself, and the little plant has, unfortunately, become collateral damage. 

 You also don’t get those texts anymore.

 With big watery eyes and a fat bottom lip, you turn back to her and she sighs. Grabs the remote and pauses whatever is playing on the tv. This makes Jade squawk, something about her watching it and it being the best part but Binna is having none of it.

 “No, this is actually dire. She’s crying over the plant, Jade. We have to intervene, it’s time.”

 Jade pouts for a moment, looking between the tv and you as if she can’t decide which is more pressing. When she crawls from her place where she was laying on the floor to your feet, it seems her decision is made. She rests her chin on your knee.

 “Still sad over the dilf?” she asks.

 You nod pitifully.

 “She was openly writing melancholy about him… it's a public cry for help,” Binna adds.

 With a nod of understanding, Jade says, “Writing can be a good way to get your thoughts together and work through them.”

 Choosing not to tell them that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to work through all the thoughts because there are just too many and it hurts too bad, you stay quiet.

 It’s not an awkward silence that takes over the living room, but you can tell that Binna and Jade are trying to think of something to say. Jade ends up being the one to interrupt the quiet.

 “Has he reached out to you at all?”

 The unanswered text on your phone started as a temptation, but it’s ended as a little memo that helps put things into perspective. 

 Did you get home okay?

 Jeongguk made his decision and he only sent you that text because he let you leave. 

 He sent you that text after he made it so incredibly clear that he wasn’t going to let you stay in his life.

 Despite you telling him you’d think about things, let him know what you decided in regards to you and him– he really didn’t leave much room for you to do that. He’s hard-headed and he’s extreme and when he makes his mind up about something… it’s not likely anyone will be able to change it. Especially if it has to do with Nari.

 And it’s not like you don’t get it. You do, to some extent at least. 

 Nari is his baby and Nari is his priority. Just like she should be. That’s self-explanatory and easy to understand. If Jeongguk felt you being in his life somehow messed with his priorities and decided it wasn’t going to work out between you two after giving it some thought– it wouldn’t have been easy, but you would have accepted it nonetheless. 

 But part of you believes he didn’t give it much thought at all because one moment he was washing you, taking care of you, kissing you. Making you feel like you were his and he was yours and like he cared. Like he was always going to be there; like he was endless. 

 Then the next he was telling you it was all basically a mistake to him. That he didn’t know if he had the room or the time for you anymore. Like you were an amenity with a timeframe. Something that was worthwhile, until it wasn’t anymore. Something nice that was momentarily useful, something that perhaps made his life better, easier in a way… but something that ultimately wasn’t necessary.  

 The turnaround was too abrupt and too abrasive and too rash for you to accept that it wasn’t impulsive. That he truly thought it through. You think that’s what’s hindering you from moving on. 

 A part of you almost wishes that you could fool yourself into believing he did mull it over. That he simply ‘changed his mind’. Because that’s better than the uncertainty that comes with him cutting you out so heedlessly. 

 If Jeongguk had a change of heart– it means that, at one point, his heart was sure of you; his heart did want you. 

 It’s deceiving, but it hurts less than the uncertainty. 

 The ache that comes with longing for what was is concrete and irrefutable in a bittersweet sense because at least in that case, what you’re yearning for was something that you had; something that was real. 

 You can’t pinpoint the pain that comes with uncertainty. There’s too much room for doubt, too many times you can mistake a ‘what if’ for a ‘what was’. There are too many ways you can spin the past if you’re not certain of it. Too many different outcomes you can craft. There are too many ways that uncertainty can hurt

 Jeongguk’s 180 took place barely within a few hours. Specific changes were instantaneous. Like the quiet unease that shrouded the atmosphere; the quick developing doubt that inevitably tainted both your affections. In all honestly, you could feel the shift as soon as he walked into the playroom after talking to Nari’s mom.

 Dasom.

 The things you feel when you think about her make you feel so ugly. Like your heart is rotten within your core, ruining you from the inside because it’s so easy to blame her and resent her for everything that occurred. Easy to pin the earth-shattering, tectonic shift in your and Jeongguk’s dynamic on her. It’s easy to hate her for the things she said about you, for the thoughts she put into Jeongguk’s head. But deep inside, right next to your rotten heart, there’s something small that’s telling you it’s easiest to hate her because you aren’t her. 

 An achy heaviness levels in your gut and you press your eyes shut tightly, consciously making an effort to not tear up. It still hurts so badly. In a way you don’t even really understand. You’re not sure if it stems from jealousy or insecurity or maybe both. 

 But there is something so excruciatingly painful, something that feels so devastatingly unfair, about Jeongguk and Dasom.

 It’s absurd and it’s stupid to let an ex get to you. You know that and you’re aware that it’s the past and that it’s over between them… but when you think about all of the history? It’s enough to overthink and compare. To wonder ‘what if?’, ask yourself ‘why?’ and ‘does he still?’.  

 Because they loved each other; were in love with each other. They had the sweetest little baby girl together. Dasom will always know Jeongguk in a way that you won’t. She will always know versions of him that you never will. She will always have a part of him and be a part of his life. She will always know him longer than you. No matter what –even if you and Jeongguk had stayed together, fallen in love, and gotten married– she was still there first. In a sense, you won’t ever be able to catch up to her– to them or what they had.

 You almost have to laugh at yourself for thinking like that because it’s so pathetically dramatic and pointless. Because yes, letting an ex get to you is both absurd and stupid. But especially so when you let it get to you after months. 

 Bitterly, you consider that maybe Jeongguk was right. Maybe you were too young for him, and maybe you really weren’t ready for everything that came with him.

 When your thoughts are reeled back in, you tell Jade about Jeongguk’s text you never answered.

 “God what a whore,” Binna groans. “What kind of person asks that after cutting you out of their life?”

 “A man,” Jade reasons.

 It makes you chuckle a small laugh, and the silence that settles this time is a little more comfortable. A couple of minutes pass with the three of you pretending to watch Jade’s show when Binna clears her throat.

 She tries to keep her voice light and casual, acts as if she’s just making conversation. “You’ve been lurking, no?”

 She will be disappointed when you admit that you’ve tried. But she’ll also be pleased to know that you simply can’t.

 “He doesn’t have Instagram.” You shrug your shoulders as if it’s not a big deal and like your recently searched isn’t full of accounts that have some variation of Jeongguk’s name in the user.

 “He probably has Facebook, he’s old,” Jade says absently, eyes glued to the television once again.

 Binna gets a worried look on her face when she can physically see the lightbulb go off in your head. Then her expression shifts into one of tired disapproval. “Thank you for that, Jade.”

 Jade’s reply is simply a preoccupied, half-hearted ‘My bad’.

 But you do not care and your phone is already out. 

 You’re trying to move on, you are. Truly. One peek won’t hurt. Also–

 “He’s not old, he’s only 29,” you say distractedly, waiting for the app to download before the phone is promptly plucked from your hands. “Hey–”

 “Give me that,” Binna interrupts, “If you look him up, you will come up in his ‘people you may know’. I don’t want that for you, and you don’t want that for you. Trust me.”

 With a frowny pout on your face, you settle back into that couch. “Well… I don’t want you coming up in whatever that is either, right?” 

 “You do not need to worry about that because I am a professional and I am crazy. What’s his last name again?”

 Professional and crazy sound like adjectives that are not supposed to go together, but you don’t argue and when she pulls out her own phone, you answer her. 

 Binna’s sleuthing seems to be entertaining enough for Jade to abandon her show, moving from her place at your feet to a seat next to Binna looking over her shoulder. Nervousness keeps you from joining, quietly just waiting for the few moments it takes for Binna to find what she’s looking for. 

 “Ah! Jeon Jeongguk, 30, C–” she gasps, eyes wide as she looks at you, “you didn’t tell us he was a CEO!”

 You shrug. “Didn’t seem important. And I told you already, he’s 29. Not 30.”

 Binna’s brows furrow before she’s looking at her phone again, bringing it close to her face and using her thumbs to zoom in on the profile picture. “Is this not him?”

 “No, that’s him,” Jade confirms, face close to Binna’s. “I’ve seen enough pictures of him in the groupchat that I also see him in my dreams.”

 “Please don’t dream about him,” you say musingly, reaching to snatch the phone from Binna just like she did to you.

 It is in fact your Jeon Jeongguk pictured on the phone. His profile picture is candid, him smiling wide with those puffs under his eyes, probably mid-laugh. But it still seems professional enough, he’s in one of his many expensive suits, with his tie on, and his hair done sleek.

 And you can feel how a small, sad smile comes to rest on your lips. You carefully click on the picture to see when it was posted.

 Just a couple of weeks ago. 

 And the small, sad smile gets even smaller and even sadder. He looks happy enough, and you hope he is. But it stings a little for some reason. 

 Then you remember why you pilfered the phone in the first place.

 Looking over his profile, you see the basic information. His alumn, his job, his hometown. You click the ‘about info’ option below all of that and it’s then that you see his birthday, and that his age is indeed 30. And you feel silly, a little embarrassed, for not knowing. Or maybe forgetting?

 Though, you’re almost positive you didn’t forget. That you wouldn’t have forgotten something like his birthday. That you couldn’t have because Jeongguk was your favorite person. 

 You trade Binna her phone back for yours.

 The photos in your camera roll on his alleged birthday are from what you thought was a random day that Jeongguk asked you to come over.

 It was kinda spontaneous for him. Considering he was someone that usually liked to plan, getting a random phone call from him while you were still at work was out of character. He simply asked if you wanted to come over. Just laze around with him, watch a movie, or something. Stay the night, maybe. He sounded slightly boyish when he asked, like he was trying to mask the hopeful excitement in his voice. You told him yes, of course, but that you wouldn’t be able to come until after work. 

 When you showed up at his, still clad in your work uniform, he was beaming. You barely made it through the door before he was literally giving you the shirt off his back to change into, helping you out of your polo and khakis.

 In the photo you’re looking at, your head is in Jeongguk’s lap and he’s shirtless looking at the tv with his hand over your mouth. You had been purposefully asking too many questions, just like you always did. The picture was taken from below so the angle is a little funny.

 And even though you’re smiling at the memory, the image turns blurry as you start to tear up. Something about it warms your heart while simultaneously breaking it. 

 Apparently, he didn’t want gifts, or anything extravagant. Seeing as he omitted telling you it was the one day of the year that everything was supposed to be about him, the one day he was supposed to be doted on. Jeongguk just wanted to be with you. Just your company was enough for him. Just you were enough for him.

 “He never told me it was his birthday, but he asked me to come over,” you tell your friends, with your thumb swiping through the many pictures you took that day. “Like me just being there was a good enough birthday present or something?”

 Jade can hear the waver in your voice, and she gently says, “Maybe we shouldn’t look at old pics if it’s going to make us sad, hmm?”

 “Maybe we should delete them, hmm?” Binna chirps.

 You hear them but you continue till you get through the whole night and the next morning. The tears are so heavy in your eyes, but you try to laugh, dabbing at your waterline with your sleeve when you say, “I like– really miss him, guys,” before you end up just covering your face with your palms and letting yourself have your moment.

 Jade coos, scooching closer to you, pulling you to her side. She rubs your shoulder soothingly. “I know you do, ___,” she says quietly. 

 Your roommate has really come a long way since the first conversation you had with her about Jeongguk. The other roommate, however, seems like she is regressing. 

 “We have got to get you out of the house and onto another dick. Your vibrator is tired and your pillow probably smells like the ocean because of all the tears it’s soaked up. It probably needs a wash, too.”

 “Binna!” Jade scolds.

 “No, like I’m so serious right now,” Binna defends, “I understand being sad over a breakup, but it’s been months. And over a grown man who lets his literal ex-wife, whom he divorced, still have such a pull on him? Like c’mon. What the fuck is that?”

 “She’s allowed to be sad! And those things you listed make her sadness even more warranted. You were holed up in your room for months too, at one point,” Jade reminds, “But it was over a boyband breaking up.”

 “In hindsight, it was very good for Zayn to leave,” Binna amends before giving you her attention. “Listen I get it, but I just want you to be happy again… You know?”

 When you peek up at her with a sniffle, she looks sad.

 “I don’t want you to get stuck in the sad and the hurt, ___,” she says quietly, “because sometimes when people get stuck in the sad and in the hurt, they can’t like– get unstuck. You know? Nothing gets better. The depression just swallows them and they don’t ever feel better and– I want you to feel better.”

 Binna’s not the most eloquent, but she has the biggest heart. And you know she means well, and despite how stuck in the sad and the hurt you truly are, you know that she does have a point. 

 You have to brood over it for a moment, and you kind of feel like you’re outside of your body when you agree. Like you’re hearing someone else say, “Okay, where are we going?”

 ~~~

 The club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. Your feet hurt because the heels you’re wearing are too high. You figured the weeks following New Year’s would be less crowded, that everyone would be recovering from blackouts and bad decisions. The sheer number of people around you tells you otherwise. You’re not having a good time. 

 When you tell your roommates as much, their response is handing you a shot. A few shots.

 And since alcohol is essentially magic, with every shot glass that is emptied down your throat, the night grows more enjoyable and less likely to be remembered. The lights turn pretty, and the ache in your feet becomes dull and muted, just like the one in your heart. 

 You’re dancing how a person who doesn’t know how to would. Hips swaying, arms occasionally going above your head before slinking back down and over your body. The bass in the club makes it feel like everything is vibrating and it makes you laugh dumbly, eyes squeezing shut as you giggle to yourself. You know Binna and Jade are close by, but it feels like you’re in your own little world.

 “I feel good,” you yell over the music to no one in particular. Eyes still closed, a loose-lipped smile lingering at the corners of your mouth.

 The warmth of a body can be felt behind you, though it’s not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into the touch, the heat, a little more. A chiffon chuckle is puffed over the crown of your head. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm, their grip trying to steady you.

 “You look good, too,” the body behind you says, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin.

 You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation, at the words. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.

 When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.

 The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.

 “Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “I– yeah, um… thanks, you too.”

 You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.

 His other hand is moving, too, and your track it till it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “I’m Seo-joon,” he tells you.

 Introducing yourself is the automatic reply he gets, and he hums, eyes scanning your face. The hand that tucked your hair trails down your arm until his fingers meet yours. They flirt for a moment before they lace together. His movements seem shy, but they’re actually very calculated. Well practiced. Like he does this a lot. Like he knows exactly how to get what he wants. 

 The realization sobers you some. Not enough to clear all of the drunken fog in your head, but enough to make you vaguely more alert. 

 “I think you’re a… a little too good at this for me, Mr. Seo-joon.” 

 Seo-joon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child who’s been caught in a lie. Then he’s recovering, laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “I don’t know, you might be the one that’s too good? Too smart? Read me like an open book.”

 There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sluggishly, eyelids heavy. 

 “Are you not?” you ask him, coquettishly referring to him being easy to read. “Aren’t you here for the usual?”

 He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging, like there’s no point in denying the obvious. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he asks, “And why are you here, ___? The usual, as well?”

 Seo-joon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 

 “I’m here to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”

 He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That’s about as ‘usual’ as it gets, ___,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”

 And when he molds his lips to yours, you expect the kiss to feel as good as the lead-up. 

 You expect the butterflies in your belly to flutter wildly– not go still. You expect the hands roaming over your body to feel rousing– not misplaced, like they aren’t supposed to be there. When you open your mouth to let him lick inside, you expect it to feel right. But it doesn’t. Sure, it doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily. But it doesn’t feel like it should. He doesn’t feel like he should.

 But you want him to. You want Seo-joon to feel right, and you want him to feel good. You want it so badly that you go home with him. 

 ~~~

 The cab ride is nothing but a precursor– something that needs to happen but not something that needs to be remembered. It’s just a soft blur that prequels his soft bed, his soft kisses, his soft pets. 

 Seo-joon is being gentler than he was at the club. 

 Under the hazy hue of the club lights, the strong hands that tugged at the straps of your dress were confident, cunning, audacious, and assertive. Boldly expectant of the outcome he was so sure he would get. 

 Under his sheets, those same hands are… not exactly timid, but ginger with their eagerness. Delicate, imploring, coy, and suggestive; tactfully encouraging, rather than expecting, the outcome that he hopes for. The way his hips brush against yours is unhurried and intentional. The crass, dirty movements from before that were careless and unrefined are long gone. Now he’s patient. Grinding into you slowly, deliberate.

 However, the change in pace, in the scenery, and in his demeanor– none of it makes the kisses taste any sweeter; none of it makes the touches feel any better; none of it makes anything good enough in the effortless way you long for. 

 It’s counterintuitive but the lack of ease, paired with the desire for it, just makes you try harder. Redouble your efforts.

 You press your lips against his in a kiss that’s harder, dig your nails into his shoulders with a grip that’s harder. When you cant your hips up against his just so– you do it harder. He gets a little harder in his pants, and the thoughts in your head get a little harder to ignore. Faking gets harder and pretending does too.

 Seo-joon is smart enough. He’s probably been around enough, too. With experience under his belt, it doesn’t take him long to sense the shift. The way your energy dulls, the slight tension tugging at your frame underneath him. But still, it doesn’t stop him from testing the waters one more time, giving you a few more unsure, assessing kisses. 

 To no avail.

 With furrowed brows, he pulls away. Seo-joon doesn’t look angry, though. Just confused as he braces himself on his forearms, lifting himself just enough to be able to take you in, most of his body weight still resting atop you.

 He clears his throat. “You don’t uh– you don’t really… seem to be– into this? Anymore? Into me?” 

 Your expression probably mirrors his. Confused, and maybe a little lost as you study him. Because he’s handsome. Almost unbelievably so, with his high cheekbones and sharp eyes; his nose and mouth that appear perfectly placed; his smooth, airbrushed skin.

 You should be into him. Superficially at the very least.

 But you just aren’t because even though he is handsome, flawless even, he’s attractive in a very ordinary, classical way. There doesn’t seem to be anything signature about Seo-joon’s features. 

 When he smiled at the club, it was idyllic and exactly symmetrical. His cheeks filled out, but just enough. His teeth –a dentist’s dream– were pristine, perfectly proportioned, and all of them just the right size. So white that they were almost beaming in the dim lights. 

 And even now, when he attempts an uneasy one to shake awkwardness it’s… fine. His plush lips are fine and his straight nose is fine and his even brows are fine and everything about Seo-joon is perfectly fine. 

 But, to you, he’s not really anything special. 

 Surface level, Seo-joon’s perfectly fine. But so are so many other perfectly fine, classically beautiful, ordinary men. There’s nothing that sets him apart. No defining characteristics, nothing about Seo-joon that makes him him. 

 Yet you can’t stop yourself from thinking that even if there were, it wouldn’t matter. 

Because you already know what makes someone special to you. 

 You’re well aware of the distinctive features that make your heart flutter. Like when someone smiles and their bottom lip tugs down just a hint farther on the left side. Or when they get little rounds under their eyes and scrunch their nose when they laugh. When he has things about himself that are slightly imperfect. Like big front teeth or a barely off-center freckle under his bottom lip. Like the deep scar on his cheek that he got from his brother when they were little. Or the faint one by his eyebrow from the piercing he had in college that had to be taken out before it was yanked out by a tiny hand. 

 The man you’re sharing a bed with could be the most uniquely attractive person on earth and it wouldn’t make a difference. It still wouldn’t make him special– not to you. 

 He’s not what you want.

 You hum when you admit it to yourself. 

 “I’m not.”

 Momentarily, Seo-joon looks taken aback by your seemingly rash rethink, but he takes your drunken bluntness in stride. He gives you a forced smile before he hangs his head in an apologetic bow, shifting from on top of you to lay next to you. “I see, I’m sorry if I assumed or overstepped or made you feel like you had to come home with m–”

 Seo-joon sounds guilty, and it surprises you when a hint of guilt starts to bloom in your chest.

 “You didn’t!” you interrupt, “I thought I was into you… or like I should be into you…”

 His eyebrow quirks and he just looks at you.

 “Ah…” you muse awkwardly, scanning the room. 

 It’s so very bachelor. Dark furniture, a big tv mounted on the wall, a little bar cart off to the side next to the mini fridge that’s kinda big to be called ‘mini’. Nothing personal at all that could tell you anything about him, except the boxers on the floor that tells you he prefers Armani. No hint as to what his goals or his hobbies are. 

 Perhaps it's a good thing you didn’t sleep with Seo-joon. Guys like him have the most brutal post-nut clarity and you’re not sure you could take another grown man hurting your feelings. 

 “I just don’t want you to think like– I don’t know? That you did something wrong? Or that you like coerced me into coming h–” 

 “Wait, I didn’t think that–”

 “–I’m the one that should be sorry!” you assure him, “Because I don’t think I actually went out to try and forget someone; I think I was trying to find them?”

 A couple of stilted seconds pass. 

 “In… me?” he asks, like he’s mentally trying to puzzle the pieces together.

 “I guess? Maybe replace them with you? Or like… use you… as a placeholder?” You wince helplessly at your choice of words, unable to stop them before they spill out. 

 Seo-joon’s confusion is replaced by a quick, bright laugh which is followed by a small smile that seems almost pitying. 

 “You’re still young–”

 You physically cannot stop the way you interrupt him with.

 “Please shut the fuck up.”

 The tired words are spat tartly before you can clench your teeth around them. It’s probably a defense mechanism– you’re not quite sure you can handle another grown man being mean to you, but you’re almost very sure that you can’t handle one lecturing you about how young you are, about how much life you still have left to live, about how your youth makes it difficult to know what you really want, about how–

 “Whoa,” he laughs. He’s on his side, his head propped up on his palm. He eyes you for a moment before he tugs the strap of your bra back up, haphazardly covering you again. “Sore spot?” 

 Pulling his sheets up for good measure, you pout. “He was older.”

 Seo-joon makes a noise of understanding. “Older like… older brother’s friends older? Or older like met him at your dad’s work party older?”

 Heat floods the rounds of your cheeks and you look anywhere but at the man next to you. No photos in frames. Not even a dvd collection that could tell you what type of movies he likes.

 “He’s like– dad old,” you murmur, chancing a glance at Seo-joon only to see him pull a queasy-looking face, and then you’re backtracking to defend yourself. “But only like baby-dad old! Not like– teenager-dad old!”

 He looks unconvinced. “How big’s the gap?”

 “7 years?” you try.

 Seo-joon goes from unconvinced to shocked and then to puzzled. “That’s like… nothing? Probably around our gap too?”

 Your hands fly up and you scoff a little as you exasperate, “That’s what I said!”

 He joins in and you both laugh in his bed until the giggles putter out into lazy silence. You’re pulling at a little tuft of lint when he hums.

 “He told you that you were too young?”

 You open your mouth to reply immediately, but then hesitate. 

 Because your age was part of it. Of course, it was, but was it all of it? Was it the root of it?

 “I mean you are; not too young, just… young. But–” Seo-joon grins smugly, giving you a pointed look when he sees you scowl, “–youth isn’t a bad thing. And you’re smart. I meant it when I said that.”

 Rolling your eyes, you say, “We literally just met–”

 “Yeah, and?” he counters, just for the sake of it because he still doesn’t allow a reply. “We only just met and I could already tell that you were smart. Even though I tried, I knew my… methods wouldn’t work on you. You read me like an open book,” he repeats what he said earlier that night, before speaking slowly like he’s spelling something out for you. “and I’m sure I’m not the only one you’re able to read like that?”

 Your scowl intensifies. “What are you getting at?”

 “This boy you’re trying to ‘forget’? ‘Find’?” The hand that’s not supporting him comes up and he makes some air quotes. His tone is a little softer, like maybe he’s trying to be gentle. Or maybe he’s just tired of talking to you. You can’t be sure.

 “I feel like you’re smart enough to know if the whole thing is worth it or not. How long ago was it?”

 “A month or 2… give or take 17 days…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

 “Okay. But yeah… that’s a good chunk of time…” he says around a quick yawn. Then he hums thoughtfully to himself. “I feel like you could think back and read the situation a bit more clearly now? Like, reassess it to… you know… I don’t know just figure stuff out…”

 “‘You know, I don’t know’, ‘Just figure stuff out’, ” you mimic dryly, “That’s all the advice you have to offer me when you’ve lived lifetimes longer than me?”

 “Listen, you can’t hate all men because of one man–”

 “Yes, I ca–”

 “Okay but, you don’t even hate that one man? That’s the whole issue?” Seo-joon interrupts. He lilts his tone up in an inquisitive manner, like he wants you to confirm. 

 You refuse and choose to reply with petulant silence.

 “Exactly. C’mon, use that big, smart brain in that pretty, little head of yours,” he encourages, “Look back and just figure stuff out. It might be hard, but not as hard as you think. I feel like time away from what we think we need or want, always puts things into perspective. Distance makes the heart fonder, or–” He pauses for dramatic effect. “It makes the heart indifferent.”

 Not rolling your eyes is a feat, but you manage. “Clearly my heart did not become indifferent if I am laid up with you and still going on about it.”

 Seo-joon hums again, carries on some more. But you’re not paying attention because maybe time didn’t put things into perspective, but his words just did.

 Distance and time make the heart indifferent.

 Jeongguk hasn’t been to your store once since you left his house. 

 You frown, connecting imaginary dots as a little wrinkle sprouts between your brows. “He hasn’t come to see me since he cut things off.”

 Seo-joon pauses mid-sentence, mimes your expression. “Did you expect him to?”

 You pause now. 

 “Um… kinda?” you start. Rolling to your side you copy his position so you can look at him. “I mean, I work at the grocery store he would normally shop at,” you explain, before tacking on, “That’s where we met. He lost his baby and I found her… Or– she found me I guess.”

 A small twinge of pain pricks your heart at the mention of Nari. You wonder if she’s talking, or if she’s at least getting closer. If she still doesn’t keep the sock on her left foot, or if she’s grown out of that nerve-wracking yet endearing little habit of hers. 

 What Dasom said about Nari getting attached comes to mind and you hope the little one is doing well. It hurts a little to think about, but you hope for her sake, that she didn’t get too attached or too sad when you stopped coming around. You hope she forgot you quickly.

 “Anyway,” you say, “Guess that means his heart became indifferent.”

 Giving a half-hearted shrug with a single shoulder, aiming to come off unbothered. Trying to act indifferent yourself, and like your heart didn’t just drop. You blink a couple of times in an attempt to clear the glassiness you know is cloaking your eyes and offer a weak smile.

 Regarding you with a slightly concerned color to his features, Seo-joon chooses to not address the passing mention of a misplaced child or the fact that you’re very close to crying while half-naked in his bed. Decidedly, he says, “I’m not sure if I would call avoidance indifference.”

 You sniffle. “Huh?”

 His eyes narrow and he looks like he’s debating something internally. Then he sighs. “Listen, I’m not trying to encourage you to wait for him or go back to him. Or like… give you false hope–”

 “Gee, thanks–”

 “No really,” he stresses, “because that genuinely could be nothing. Men are a bit dense. They do things that may seem calculated, but in actuality, they’re just daft and it didn’t even cross their mind. But in my opinion,” he continues slowly, a bit hesitantly, “Choosing to not go to the grocery store he –I’m assuming– frequented regularly? Right after a breakup?” He sucks a bit of air in through his teeth before he shakes his head. “Yeah, that seems like a very deliberate choice.”

 “Like indifference would be more–” he continues before pausing briefly to choose the right words, “I picture indifference as more of– him still going to your work, despite the breakup, because he just doesn’t give a fuck.”

 Whatever words you were planning to say get caught in your throat and you cough out a short laugh at Seo-joon’s straightforwardness. 

 He grins a little. “Right? Because that’s what it is– a lack of interest, lack of concern. Like he just doesn’t care one way or the other about you being there because you’re not important enough for him to be affected by you.”

 You know he’s speaking in hypotheticals, but it still sours your expression. Makes your lips pull down at the corners.

 “Personally, if I were him and I was truly indifferent, truly unbothered,” he places his hand on his bare chest, “you being there or not being there wouldn’t be significant enough for me to alter my routine.”

 Your eyes flit quickly over Seo-joon’s torso. His gesture causes the sheet to fall slightly, pooling at the subtle curve of his waist. There’s a faint warmth flooding your cheeks as you swiftly and intently bring your gaze back up. 

 You swallow before replying with a simple, “Ah… yes… that makes perfect sense.”

 Playfully, Seo-joon scowls at you. “You sure you don’t want to fuck?”

 “Yup.”

 “It may help–”

 “Nope, don’t think it will actually.”

 He shrugs, an amused grin still lingering. “Suit yourself–”

 “I feel like your post-nut clarity would hurt my feelings and I’m vulnerable right now.”

 It’s silent for 1, 2, 3 seconds before Seo-joon’s loud laughter echoes in his room. Failing to keep a straight face, he rolls on his back and rests his head on his pillow as he lets himself laugh to his heart’s content. Then he inhales deeply and scrubs a hand over his face and swipes a finger beneath his bottom lashes; catching his breath and regaining his composure and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. 

 A few seconds pass before he’s turning his head to look at you with a quiet smile. It feels a bit too tender, too sincere, and too heartfelt, for what was supposed to be a one-night-stand. 

 “See,” he says softly, “told you you were smart.”

 You just look at him, trying to read him like he’s so sure you can. There doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motives, just him being genuinely kind to you because he wants to be. And for some reason that makes your eyes burn.

 “If it doesn’t hurt too badly to revisit everything that went on with the boy,” Seo-joon begins, interrupting the light hush that settled between the two of you, “I really feel like you’ll be able to see things clearer; read the situation better. Figure stuff out. And then, things will start to fall into place for you. Everything will start to make a little more sense. You’ll know if you’re wasting your time being hung up on him, and if it’s worth your happiness. You’ll know if looking for him is worth the effort, and you’ll be sure that ‘finding’ him is actually what you want after all.”

 You’re definitely going to cry.

 “And when I said you were still young, and that your youth wasn’t a bad thing,” he continues, “I meant that if you decide that you do want to look for him, and you do find him again– you still have enough time to try with him again.”

 With a wobbly bottom lip, you feel your features slowly morph into a scowl.

 It’s self-directed because it’s then that you think about what’s happening and how ridiculous it all seems.

 Because why are you on the tail end of being drunk, half-naked in the bed of a grown man who you met just hours ago? Why are you telling him bits and pieces about the person he was supposed to distract you from? The person that caused you the most delicately painful ache that’s been festering for months? Why are letting this man give you advice? Why are you letting him comfort you? And why does it feel like he’s done a better job of it by just listening to you for the last few hours, than friends you’ve had for years? 

 And why do you feel like you’re going to cry about it?

 The self-directed scowl morphs to a Seo-joon-directed glare.

 “He’s not a boy,” you begin in a voice that shakes just a hint, arguing just to be difficult, “he’s a man with the cutest baby and he’s 30 now and–” The urge to cry cuts you off and you feel the first tear leak from the corner of your eye. 

 Seo-joon’s soft, sincere smile turns slightly sad as he tracks the salty drop. “Hey, don’t cry–”

 “Shut-up,” you spout, your tone somewhere in between short and like you’re begging him to be quiet because it was him speaking that brought you to this state in the first place. 

 A short staring contest ensues.

 “Also– I bet you would’ve been the worst fucking one-night stand,” you add on for good measure. 

 Seo-joon’s ability to keep from laughing is impressive. It’s only for a second that an amused smile overtakes his features– a natural reflex he isn’t able to stop. But it’s barely there at all before he’s schooling his features into something that he hopes looks receptive, like he’s taking in what you’re saying, absorbing it like it’s Gospel. 

 But he’s also a curious motherfucker, and he wants to know why you think that. 

 “That is baseless and an unfounded assumption,” he defends himself, because he may be receptive, but he is also a damn good one-night stand. “With that being said, please tell me why you feel that way.”

 “Because I’m crying! And it’s because of you! You and your making of us bare our fucking souls during pillowtalk! Who does that?!” 

 It’s huffy and snippy and you both know you’re being mean just for the sake of it. 

 With lips pressed into a tight, smile-proof line, Seo-joon nods easily; agreeable and understanding.

 He knows you’re fragile and that you’re tired– so he chooses not to voice how he considers what you talked about very surface level. How he thinks you may be more hurt and affected by whatever took place between you and this guy than you even realize yet. How he feels like you still have so much to work through, so much to learn.

 Seo-joon lets you win and reminds himself that, right now, it’s not his job to help you soothe the things that hurt or fix the things that are broken. Reminds himself that you’re smart enough to figure stuff out on your own.  

 There’s a brief lull in the conversation that’s not as awkward or tense as it probably should be.

 You sniffle. Then you hiccup.

 And Seo-joon laughs, loud and brash and fond as he leans towards you. He gives you what feels like a platonic kiss on your forehead. 

 “Can I get your number?”

 ~~~

 It’s an early Thursday morning in late January and Jeongguk is feeling troubled. Plagued, if you will, as he towels off after his morning shower. Plagued with the ever-growing, ever-evolving urge to check up on you. To see how you’re doing.

 Lurking, as Taehyung calls it, doesn’t happen all that often. Jeongguk makes a point to not let himself do it daily. Or even weekly. It was his New Year’s resolution, in fact. That being said, it’s been exactly 12 days since he’s used his friend’s 8-year-old son’s instagram account to see what you’ve been up to.

 Typically, he can talk himself out of the sudden notion. Put it off until he forgets, or just doesn’t feel he needs to so badly anymore. Currently, however, he’s blaming his inability to nix the restlessness in his fingertips on the fact that he hasn’t had Nari around to keep him busy. It’s been a long week.

 Because Jeonggk’s been doing his best to keep himself from opening your page for what feels like days. Resisting the pesky pull even though he doubts you’ve even posted. Out of the times he’s given in over the last few weeks, he thinks you’ve posted maybe once. And it was just a picture of some clouds at that– vaguely heart-shaped, wispy, white puffs against sky-blue. The caption was just two emojis, the wind-face lady next to the white heart. 

 So frankly, even though he’s not exactly keen on how strong and itchy the urge to check on you is– he’s also not exactly sure why he’s fighting it. Not when merely scratching it isn’t going to change anything. 

 After shrugging on his work blazer, Jeongguk admits defeat– his inner demons having won yet again. He resigns to apathetic, easily accepted complacency as he swipes through the pages on his home screen till he gets to the very last one that houses the small, sunset-colored camera app. He figures he should probably just get it over with.  

 As he touches the application open, Jeongguk reasons that he’s just been putting off the inevitable– that he knows an itch can’t be ignored and that it won’t be quelled until it’s scratched or soothed. Tells himself that a quick peek before heading out for work won’t matter.

 As he clicks on the mini magnifying glass at the bottom of the screen, Jeongguk reminds himself of lurking’s insignificance. Thinks back to all the times he’s done it before and how it never made a difference. 

 As he sorts through the random selection of 8-year-old boy searches till he finds your user in the mix, he reassures himself that checking on you won’t do anything but alleviate the nagging in the back of his head and the tingling in his fingertips. 

 As he taps your profile, he convinces himself that lurking will be relieving and nothing more.

 As Jeongguk sees that you have posted, he realizes that this time, lurking does matter and that he is so very stupid for assuming it would bring him relief.

 The picture is blurry, not unlike a handful of others he’s seen on your feed. 

 But the setting captured is new. The pink-tinted lighting isn’t familiar, and neither is the purple and blue hues. The crowd you captured is much more… abundant than what he’s become accustomed to seeing when he pulls up your page. 

 Jeongguk scans the photo for just a bit longer and then swipes to the next one in the post. This one is the final stupid nail in the coffin of Jeongguk’s stupid demise. The couple shot glasses grouped together in blurry cheers are all the confirmation he needs to know exactly where you were. His eyes flick to your caption, and then his features pull into a pensive frown with furrowed brows.

 BUT FOUR DRINKS IM WASTED !! 

 Jeongguk taps open the comments.

 flickthebinna: you’ve had exactly two (2) shots

ocstagram: i am Wasted !! 🤬

jadedjade: can u let her be wasted and focus on getting our drinks @flickthebinna 🤨

 He can’t help but chuckle at your and your friends’ interactions, but as he closes the app he catches himself doing a certain habit of his. The little tick where he tilts his head and juts his jaw out quickly. His telltale sign of irritation.

 Irritated with himself, of course. Partly because of the obvious. The spying (from a child’s social media account nonetheless), the moping that he’s been doing for months, the procrastinating and avoiding that’s been going on for almost just as long. 

 But also because he feels so embarrassingly immature for allowing what he finds out from the spying to affect him so deeply. It seems so very juvenile to get this worked up over an instagram post. 

 He’s irritated at the emotional rush and the way his hands are shaking. At the way his mind is jumping to conclusions and conjuring up all sorts of sour scenarios. He’s irritated with himself for the way unwarranted jealousy burns in his chest. 

 The irritation stews; sits in the passenger seat as he makes the drive to work– right next to the sudden instinct to act on a restless whim. The irritation festers; accompanies the worsening impulsive urge that makes it hard to think and ultimately pushes him to make a wrong turn. 

 The irritation is only sated when he pulls up to a curb and his car comes to a stop. 

 Jeongguk’s irritated with himself for a lot of things. But mostly because it took him so long to get here.

 ~~~

 He’s not sure why he anticipated you answering the door. Karma wouldn’t be so kind, and he wouldn’t be so lucky. Obviously.

 “And why the fuck are you here?” This is how Binna greets him, after taking him in with a groggy, borderline bored stare. 

 With a wince, Jeongguk tries, “Hi Binna–”

 “Don’t you have a job?” she interrupts, the volume of her tone increasing with every word. “Aren’t you so busy? So busy, in fact, that it’s so hard to find the time for–”

 He opens his mouth to try and get a word in but stops abruptly. So does Binna when she feels a soft hand on her shoulder, and hears a grumpy ‘Why are you being so loud?’.

 Right in front of him, you’re still half-asleep. Drowsily using the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing to rub over your face tiredly. Seeing as he decided to show up at a little past 8 in the morning.  

 After a few slow, dreamy blinks, you direct your attention to Jeongguk and he feels like he can’t breathe.

 It’s unconscious, how his lips turn up a smidge when he really sees you for the first time in what feels like forever. When he sees the warmth that lives inside of you color your skin with the softest, natural flush. 

 Jeongguk is still so jealous. 

 He watches you and he studies you. Now that he’s not relying on his memories or the pictures in his camera roll or the ones on your socials– he’s trying to pick out what’s the still same; how you’ve changed. Your hair is a bit longer, a shade or two darker as well. Maybe it’s the big hoodie you’ve got on, but you look smaller than he remembers. In his chest, he feels his heart tug but he can’t dwell on it too much as he refocuses on your features beginning to stir. 

 They shift from dazedly blank to shocked, as if your still-sleepy brain has just now registered him being there, and the smallest gasp sounds from your lips. Then an expression that’s a cross between confused and angry takes the place of prior surprise. The doe-ish look becomes sharp and stern; your narrowed eyes are framed above by scrunched brows and below by shadowy circles. Your mouth goes from slack with your plush lips barely parted, to pouty and pursed in a deep frown.

 Jeongguk knows he should say something. 

 Explain. 

 Say sorry. 

 Ask for forgiveness. 

 But he feels mute, like his heart is stuck in his throat. Like he can’t do anything but stand there and hope you show him a little bit of undeserved grace. That you give him a moment, and then another, to get himself together. Even though he’s had too many moments already to do exactly that.

 In the few seconds that go by you shoo your roommate, and after she’s gone, your face changes once again. Softening just enough to not be so harsh. You stand in your doorway as he flounders and you watch with intent, almost curious, anticipation. And Jeongguk doesn’t want to be too optimistic– but he thinks there might be a hint of relief, an inkling of eager, hopeful expectation hiding in the way you’re looking at him. 

 As if you’ve been waiting for him; wanting him– and now he’s finally here; almost yours. 

 He’s so caught up in that –the minute chance of reconciliation that he only thinks he caught a glimpse of– that he doesn’t get out of his head until the movement of your shoulders slumping, and your chest deflating rips him out of it. 

 Jeongguk would prefer the air your demeanor carried just moments ago. The quiet, masked hopefulness you gave off before you made yourself smaller and breathed that tiny, dejected sigh. God, he would even take the calloused, puzzled hostility you had when you first realized it was him in standing in your doorway. Anything over how you look currently.

 Definitely disappointed, maybe a little bit embarrassed, and just so sad. 

 It’s what he expected, at least to some extent. He’s foolish, but he can only fool himself so much. There’s a limit on how many fantasies of effortless forgiveness he can have before he has to face reality. 

 Jeongguk knew you would be sad, and he knew you would be disappointed. He was ready to take responsibility for the role he played because he was so sure that it would be his fault.

 But what makes how you’re looking at him right now so awful, so unbearable– is that you’re looking at him like it has nothing to do with him. 

 You don’t look disappointed in him. You don’t look sad because of him. 

 It looks internal, so personal. 

 Like you’re sad because you naively allowed yourself to hope– let it glimmer, shining so obvious in your eyes. Only for the brightness to dim, snuffed out by the foolishness that so often goes hand in hand with naivety. 

 Like you’re sad because as soon as you saw him, you had expectations– preconceived notions about how it would go when he came back, how he would act. Only to learn that with enough preconceived notions, you can turn expectations into daydreams.

 Maybe that’s why you look a little embarrassed, too. Because you so quickly let yourself hope, like a child who hasn’t learned from their mistakes. Because you immediately conjured up expectation-disguised daydreams of Jeongguk. Still, after all this time. After everything he’s done, you still expected good from him. 

 You look like you’re disappointed in yourself, not him, because you should have known better.

 He doesn’t find his voice until you’re shaking your head like he’s let you down. Until you’re turning away from him and edging the door closed.

 “I’m sorry!”

 Jeongguk blurts the words out, and he didn’t say much but his chest is heaving and he’s got this frantic way about him and a panicky feeling flooding his veins. When you look up, surprise flashes across your face, but it’s gone in an instant and is replaced by incredulous anger. Like you can’t believe him. 

 Despite your trying to stand your ground and hold his gaze, a gleam still shines in your eyes.

 “I am,” he assures breathlessly, his eyes darting across your face, “I’m so sorry, ___. And–”

 When Jeongguk tells you he misses you, he notices how you almost flinch. How your eyes snap shut tightly –like you can feel his words, but still aren’t sure if they’re real or if they’re true; like you’re scared of finding out– and the heavy tears pooling on your lashline finally spill over. 

 As the salty droplets drip down the apples of your cheeks, Jeongguk feels an ache that hurts so badly that it’s visceral. Like if he could crack open his chest, he could get a hand on the it and just rip the pain out and make it go away. If only that was the case. 

 “I–” you start, but your voice gives out. You clear your throat with a small cough, and talk to the ground because it’s easier to talk to than him. “Maybe we’re better like this, Gguk.”

 Jeongguk’s heart drops, and it’s a struggle to get out even just a whispered a plea of your name.

 When you speak up this time, you force your eyes to meet his. Your brows are upturned and your bottom lip quivers for just a second before you take a deep, self-soothing, breath and school your features into a facade of indifference and resolve. 

 “I hope Nari’s been okay. And you. I hope you’ve been okay, too.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow. He’s confused but gives you an unsteady nod. “She– she’s good, yeah.”

 You scan his face, trying to keep your own expression neutral. But how he only mentions Nari and not himself doesn’t evade you. A faint heartache murmurs in your chest, but you mimic his nod. “That’s good. I’m glad–”

 “What about you? Have you been okay?”

 Jeongguk’s words come out overhasty and too eager. But after such a long time of replaying old dialogues in his head– talking to you just feels so nice. He doesn’t want to stop, even if the conversation feels stilted and trivial. He’s still going to hang on to every little marginal thing you say, and he’s still going to do his best to keep the empty words flowing between you.

 He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath while he awaits your answer. Not until he hears you say, “Yeah, I’m happy, I think” and the air inside his lungs vacates. Making room for a thick cloud of melancholy that isn’t surprising, but still makes it hard to breathe all the same. 

 Guilt mingles with the suffocating hurt because you being happy shouldn’t make him sad.  

 But then you smile and Jeongguk responds with a frown and a skeptical shake of his head. 

 Because the smile– it’s so fake, so unconvincingly artificial and staged that when it turns your eyes to half moons and causes their corners to crinkle– it also forces a fresh wave of tears to tumble down your cry-flushed cheeks. 

 He doesn’t believe you, but that’s no surprise. You’ve never been a good liar.

 A dim, defeated laugh putters from your lips. Trying to portray nonchalance, you give him a weak, half-hearted shrug, like you know you’ve been caught but it can’t be helped.

 He knows it hurts you to dismiss him. He can hear it in your shaky, wispy tone when you say, “Take care, Gguk.”

 Take care Gguk.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a ‘goodbye’. A goodbye that he’s having trouble processing. 

  It feels like a lifetime, but really it’s only a few seconds that Jeongguk stands there trying to make sense of your words. It’s only a few more before the door closes on him. 

 Jeongguk couldn’t process the goodbye, but the telltale click of the door locking somehow makes perfect sense.

 ~~~

 Like you are the starlet of your very own coming of age, lifetime, hallmark romance drama– you don’t let yourself cry until your back is pressed against the closed door. Then you cover your mouth to keep quiet as you slide down the wood.

 The moment is short-lived. 

 “Where’s Jeongguk?”

 The voice seemingly comes from nowhere, and you jump slightly before swearing and directing your puffy, bloodshot eyes at your roommates. They both have their head peeking out from behind the kitchen wall. Nosy.

 “What do you mean ‘where’s Jeongguk?’” you groan, knocking your head back against the wood.

 Binna and Jade exchange a look. 

 “Are you guys like… not gonna… talk?”

 You slow blink at them a single time.

 An awkward quiet permeates the pumpkin-spice-scented air of your shared home. It’s not even Fall anymore. 

 “Well,” Binna starts, and then cuts herself off like she spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. She elbows your other housemate. “Jade?”

 Jade gives you an instinctive, reactionary smile that’s far too big. “I mean… communication is key… right? And that’s mainly what was lacking before? Talking now could give you the oppurtunity to say all the things you’ve been wanting to. And maybe he can explain his side–”

 Binna raises a hand to cut her off, “Too much credit, he is still a man.”

 “Fair but–”

 The two bicker for a bit before looking at you again.

 “Wait, did you not want to work things out?” 

 You roll your eyes. “Of course I wanted to.”

 “Of course you did,” Jade agrees easily. 

 “Of course you did,” Binna mimics before groaning and asking, “So why the hell is he not here, and why the hell are you not talking and ‘working things out’?” 

 Crossing your arms, your posture becomes defensive. “Wouldn’t that be too easy? Like he shows up at my door after all these months of virtual silence and I just let him in? Aren’t I supposed to make him grovel and cry and beg?” 

 “You have to let the man speak for him to be able to grovel and cry and beg, I’m afraid…” Binna informs.

 The narrowing of your eyes is the simple response she gets. Only because Jade speaks up before you can.

 “You know…” Jades starts, then ponders momentarily. “If it was you that showed up at his house out of the blue at 8 in the morning on a weekday? Then yeah,” she nods to herself, “I would say that it was too easy for him. But he came back to you. And just talking to him?” she shakes her head, “That’s not forgiving him. He still has a lot of work to do– and you should make him prove himself. Prove that he’s grown and changed,” Jade says before she gives you a gentle smile. “But him knocking on the door was also him taking the first step.”

 He came back to you.

 It’s what you wanted. But now that it’s happening, you have no clue what to do next. 

 You don’t know what to say. Are you supposed to lie and tell him you’re thankful that he pushed you away; that it helped you realize that he was right? That you are too young? That you’re happier without him, better off being free like he wanted you to be? 

 Or do you tell him the truth? Do you tell him about how hard it was without him? About how painful it was to go from having so much of him, all of the time– to not having none of him at all, ever? Do you come clean about how hollow and lost being alone made you feel? Do you tell him about how much it hurt every time you thought about how all it took was a few words from his ex– and you were gone; cut out so easily and carelessly? Do you admit that it still hurts to remember?

 You don’t know what to do. Do you resist the fight you’re expected to make him put up? Or do you not fight it much at all and welcome him with a second chance and a fresh start? Do you pretend like you didn’t miss him? Like you didn’t fantasize about him coming back? That you didn’t look for pieces of him everywhere you went; in everybody you met? 

 You don’t know how to feel. Happy because he came to you? Sad that it took so long? Scared because him coming back is just another chance for him to leave again?

 You were already crying, but the trickle of tears grows steadier. The sleeve of your sweatshirt is swiped angrily at your eyes, the light grey material dampened a few shades darker. 

 “Bro,” you cry, “I can’t even look at him without crying, I’m not gonna be able to talk to him. It hurts too bad.”

 Jade looks down at you, gives you a pity pout. “If it’s any consolation, I think he will cry too.”

 Binna agrees with a sympathetic nod of her head. “He’s probably hurting just like you, but it’s what he deserves.

 “___,” Jades speaks up again, “It doesn’t have to be so– painstaking. Like you don’t have to drive yourself mad thinking about what you should do. Just do what you want to do. If you want to talk to him, then talk to him.” She shrugs like it’s really that simple.

 And maybe it is. 

 ~~~

 It definitely isn’t.

 Because if it was, you would not have opened with, quote, ‘I let you put your finger in my ass’, unquote. 

 And Jeongguk wouldn’t have replied with a slow, painfully dumb sounding: ‘I– yes… I remember…?’

 You don’t even really know how it happened. 

 One second you’re hit with a burst of inspired adrenaline and then the next you’re knocking the wind out of both you and Jeongguk by barreling into his chest. The collision must have knocked the sense out of you, too. It’s the only explanation for your behavior. 

 All the same, the blame can’t be entirely yours– Jeongguk has to take some of it. He was standing directly outside of your door, after all. He claims he was working up the courage to knock again but that’s beside the point.

 You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you pretend not to catch the way that he rolls his lips between his teeth to keep a smile off his face when you lead him into your room and slyly try to kick a few things under your bed. A stuffed animal, a bra. A few too many socks.

 It’s a stupid attempt to make your space look a little more tidy and less like you’ve been rotting in it for the last few months. The room’s not too messy by any means; definitely not unkempt enough for you to feel embarrassed or like you need to straighten it up to impress him. But you hope he chalks it up to your nerves getting the best of you.

 He’s nervous, too. If how awkward he’s being is anything to go by. 

 Just standing at the foot of your bed with his hands in his pockets while you situate yourself in front of your headboard. He doesn’t take a seat until you pat the mattress a little, letting him know it’s okay and that you want him to. 

 There’s a quiet hush that fills the space. It’s slightly tense, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable; stilted but somehow familiar. 

 You’re sitting with one leg dangling and a pillow in your lap. It’s hugged to your chest. Perhaps a make-shift shield to put something between you and Jeongguk. Fiddling with a loose pillowcase string helps you avoid eye contact by making you look occupied.

 Jeongguk’s sat before you, stiff and looking down at the floor between his feet. Similarly evading your gaze just like you’re doing with his. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, rubbing his palms restlessly over the material of his slacks. 

 Thinking back, Jeongguk feels like he did so much of the talking that night in his living room. Probably too much, if he’s being honest. He feels he never really gave you the time to say your side or a proper chance to explain yourself. 

 So this time, he wants to let you do most of the talking. Let you be the one to initiate, at the very least. He wants to give you all the time you need to start the discussion how and when you want, with what you want and feel has precedence.

 Jeongguk stays patient right up until you say in a huff, “Well say something, I’m obviously not good at this.”

 His lips twitch at your stubborn, slightly irritated tone. 

 “You’re the one that showed up at my house when I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be at work, so,” you wave your hand at him, indicating you want him to get on with it. “Must have something important to say.”  

 The small laugh he allows himself is barely a chuckle, but it tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. Blames it on instinct and the simple fact that he just misses you. 

 “It is important,” he confirms, giving into your bait and starting the conversation for you. He considers staying quiet, getting another little reaction out of you, but he reminds himself that this isn’t the time for that. If he plays his cards right, maybe then he’ll be able to joke with you. But as of now, that’s not his place anymore.

 Shifting to face you a little more, so that when he says, “I wanted to apologize to you, ___,” you have his full attention.

 When he speaks, you don’t look at him. Instead, you only give him the faintest nod with your eyes cast down. Still fixed on the pillow in your lap. But Jeongguk notices how your lashes flutter quickly before you press your eyelids together tightly; just like you did earlier when he said that he missed you. 

 Your shoulders lift when you take a deep inhale, and your face is more or less neutral when your eyes meet his. 

 “It’s been months,” you tell him. 

 As if he doesn’t know. As if he hasn’t been driving himself mad day in and day out trying to muster up the courage to do precisely this; as if time doing what time does hasn’t been the bane of his existence. Because with each passing day, he knew he was that much closer to going from ‘it’s been so long’ to ‘it’s been too long’. He’s all too aware of just how long it’s been. 

 Regardless, he doesn’t want to give you excuses; choosing to be easily agreeable. He offers a small tilt of his head as acknowledgment. 

 “Why now?” you question him.

 Jeongguk tries to keep the sadness off of his face when he hears how you sound. 

 The tone of your voice is unsure; hurt. But the pain is elusive. Only heard when your subtle heartache peeks through the veil of composure you’re trying to hide behind.

 While he racks his mind for a worthy explanation, his eyes scan yours. Overflowing with so many different emotions and so expressive just like he remembers. 

 “I wish–” he begins, “I wish that I could tell you that I’ve been working toward this for ages and that I thought through all the steps and knew exactly what I wanted to say to you…” He gives a small self-deprecating chuckle, “But I can’t tell you that. After earlier, it’s clear that I didn’t have any idea or plan,” he offers you his bared palms. “I wish I had a good reason for ‘why now’, but I don’t.”

 Your brows furrow with affronted confusion. Jeongguk speaks up before you can.

 “That’s not to say that I haven’t been thinking about this since you left–”

 “I didn’t leave, you got rid of me–”

 The correction is hissed before you snap your mouth shut like you didn’t mean to say it. But you don’t take the words back and Jeongguk can’t control his expression this time. His face falls and he sighs as he looks down at the pattern on his pants. 

 “I’ve been thinking about this since I told you to leave,” he tries again, slowly. When you don’t comment again after a small pause, he continues, “but I wasn’t actively figuring out how to do it. I’ve come to learn that plans are essentially useless, so planning out what to say to you seemed pointless. In hindsight, it just made me look stupid,” he muses.

 “Honestly, having you on a constant loop in my mind wasn’t intentional; I didn’t want that,” Jeongguk admits. But he doesn’t even chance a glance, not keen to see your worsening scowl. “Remembering you just made me so miserable? Like, thinking about you all the time made me miss you all the time. And missing you made me so fucking sad– like the kind of sad you can feel? Like it hurt to think about you. But you never left my head, so the hurt never went away…”

 Jeongguk’s words slowly come to halt, his cheeks reddening to a bright cherry when he realizes that he’s rambling. As he’s mentally trying to dull his blush to something more faint and less conspicuous, he notes that your expression changed. You still look a bit angry, but now, there’s a pastel hue. A soft, muted sadness toning down the harshness. 

 He stumbles a little when he says, “I– Truthfully– I guess the–” Then he takes a quick, staccato breath mid-sentence to get himself together. “I guess the most truthful explanation for why I took so long is… avoidance? And guilt? Fear?” 

 When he frustratedly combs a hand through his hair, he pretends not to notice how it’s shaking. And he’s grateful that you don’t mention it when you track his movement. 

 The conversation gets stuck in a momentary limbo while Jeongguk thinks about what he said. It’s the truth. He was scared before– it’s what got him in this mess and it’s what kept him away for weeks too long. But he’s still scared. Despite getting the most intimidating part over with –actually coming to you after finally working up the nerve to– the fear of fucking up still hasn’t waned. 

 He’s still just as scared as he was. 

 Scared of saying the wrong thing. Of not being able to put what he feels into the right words. Of not being able to convey how truly fucking sorry he is for hurting you, how much he regrets it. He’s scared of hurting you again. Scared of you not forgiving him for the first time he did. 

 He is still just as scared of lying in the bed that he made.

 Jeongguk digs his fingertips into his thighs and his nails are dull, but he does it hard enough for a minute pang of discomfort to still be felt. He makes himself puff out a lame chuckle. It sounds strained and resembles a scoff more than anything, but he’s trying to lighten the mood; make the air in the room lighter and easier to breathe. 

 “I’m sorry,” he says on the tail end of the scoffing chuckle, shaking his head lightly. His voice has a light waver, shaky due to his nerves. “I– I’m just–”

 When he feels your small hand settle over the one he has working into his leg, his head whips up quickly and a reactive reflex almost has him pulling his hand away.

 But he stops himself before, and he’s so happy he does. Because when the initial shock wears off, your touch feels good. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy he catches himself because your touch feels nice and when he looks up from it, he gets to see you. 

 It’s like you stopped hiding and came out from behind that veil. Or maybe it’s an accident and you just forgot to keep it up. Either way, it doesn’t matter because he gets to see you watching him so artlessly, so openly honest. With a look that feels like a reminder. 

 A reminder that your heart has always been so soft, so sweet– that it still is. Softer than the hand you have settled gently over his and sweeter than its touch when you coax his own into being gentle, too, but with himself. A reminder that you’ve always been soft, sweet– that you still are. You look at him –softly; sweetly– like you’re reminding him that you’re still you. 

 It makes his eyes water and he has to look away. The thin, pinstripes on his slacks blur together, blending into thick lines as unshed tears muddle his vision.

 “It’s okay, you can–” he hears you tell him, starting hushedly. You sound hesitant, like you’re not sure if you want to finish. “I… want to know what you’re trying to say. So– you can take your time... I’ll wait for you.” 

 And if someone asked Jeongguk to describe the ache that fills his chest at your words– he would tell them that it hurts like he imagines the kindest, most tender, undeserved compassion would.

 “It took me so long because I was a coward, ___,” he says quietly. But the word is spat from his mouth like something foul. “I was so scared of feeling the hurt and facing the guilt that came when I thought about you; what I did to you–” Shame runs through his veins and he shakes his head at how spineless he was– unable to face the consequences of his own actions. It’s humiliating to remember. 

 He’s still talking down to his lap when he admits, “I– just avoided it altogether. I was so busy trying to keep it away that I didn’t give much thought to owning up to everything. I didn’t even know where to begin or how to go about fixing things with you.” 

 Jeongguk’s not crying yet. With that being said, his vision is still bleary and his eyes are red-rimmed from fighting the stubborn tears. He turns the hand he still has underneath yours palm-up. Covers yours with his other on top. Your tiny hand sandwiched between his big ones. He tilts his head back, blinks the wet in his eyes away.

 “I wanted to so badly, though,” he tells you, bringing himself to look at you, “To fix things with you. To just try with you. It took me way too long to understand something that should have been common sense: That things don’t always happen the way you plan for them to; That pieces don’t just fall into place just because you want them to. If I want something… It takes effort to make it happen. I have to work for it and try my best to put the pieces where they belong.”

 Jeongguk gives you a small smile and your hand a little squeeze. “I needed someone’s help to figure some things out,” he rolls his eyes playfully, almost fondly exasperated by the memory. “Like how to start altering the way I think and how to stop with all the wallowing and self-commiseration. How to stomach self-reflection. But when it finally clicked and I really got it? Fixing things with you was the only thing I wanted to do.” 

 There’s a tiny flicker of something coming back. A sanguine glimmer replaces the chagrin in Jeongguk’s eyes and you try to mirror it, reflect it back to him. Because the things he’s saying all sound so good. Perfect and promising and like everything you could have hoped for. 

 But when he says the thing about needing someone’s help? Anything he said before gets repressed. Unclear and hard to recall, as if his words are stuck inside a wayward memory. Anything he says after is indistinct. Muffled and hard to hear, as if there’s water stuck inside your ears. Similar to the rot that’s stuck inside your heart; ugly and hard to get rid of. 

 Such a gross, sickly feeling suddenly comes over you. 

 It takes so much effort to swallow it down. The green-washed insecurity that’s wanting to crawl up your throat and out your mouth. Masquerading as untrusting accusations that will make you seem paranoid. Heartsick questions that will leave you too vulnerable. 

 Who was it? Was it her? Was Dasom the one who helped you?

 Of course, she’s going to be a sore spot and you know that. But the thoughts fluster you and catch you a little off guard because it’s not like you to think like that. 

 It’s never been like you to be paranoid. To feel so self-conscious and easily threatened. You’ve never been the type to chastise. To interrogate, or pry. To accuse, or assume. 

 The doubt came from out of nowhere– crept its way into your head during a brief lapse of emotional awareness and into your heart when it erringly opened and was left unguarded. At first, quieting the intrusive thoughts and dispelling the negative feelings was a challenge. But in the end, you managed and it was fleeting and passed quickly.  

 Shaking the residual embarrassment that follows the bad thoughts and emotions, is much more difficult. 

 Unlike the momentary doubt, the sudden flash of insecurity that it comes with is so intense that it lingers, so strong that it fogs your head. It distractingly hangs out in the back of your mind making it hard to focus.

 It takes a few moments longer before you’re able to suppress it and push it down, down, down. Down far enough that you’ll be able to forget about it. At least for a short while, you’ll be able to convince yourself that the feelings won’t come back because it’s just not like you. 

 Wanting to omit it altogether, you gather your composure and fully give Jeongguk your attention again. You give him a small but genuine smile and wiggle your fingers that are still between his hands. 

 He smiles back softly, while you sit quietly. You’re working to piece together the things he said while you were lost in your head, trying to come up with a decent response. 

 “I was scared too,” you reveal quietly, “The whole time I was scared.” 

 “Will you tell me what you were scared of?”

 “There were so many things, Gguk.” You don’t tell him that there still are. Jeongguk nods attentively. You gingerly untangle your hand from his, catching his eyes before looking around your room. 

 “The finger thing was a really bad example,” you begin trying to explain. You shake your head with a sheepish smile, embarrassed and horrified at your past self. “and it wasn’t the actual act. It was more of what it meant that was scary for me? Like the fact that I let you do something that I always swore I would never let anyone do? Ever.”

 Laughing lightly, you think back on all of the times that your friends would make jokes. How they always told you that there would be a time that you would be horny enough to let it happen. The times when they had more class and said it was fine if you never wanted to and never did, but that they still thought you would end up giving in one day. For the right person, you would. 

 But you always remained adamant– so sure that nobody would ever make the act appealing enough, that nobody would ever make you feel comfortable enough with them for you to allow them to touch you like that or see you like that. 

 “But then I met you.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand. But he just stays quiet and nods again, waiting for you to continue. And honestly, you can’t blame him. Anal should never be such a serious topic or something that feels like such a pivotal point in a relationship. You certainly wish that it wasn’t. 

 But alas.

 “All it took was a couple of months… Just a few soft touches and some dreamy words and I was putty in your hands.” Your hands that are folded lightly in your lap open up to show your palms before they squeeze shut into tight fists. “I feel like I would’ve done anything for you; anything you asked me to.”

 His features fall, and the expression he wears is laced with so much guilt. “Wait– Did I… make you feel like you had to do certain things?”

 You can’t help but smile at his concern as you shake your head sadly. “No, no… nothing like that– I always wanted to.”

 Jeongguk frowns, not certain of how truthful you’re being.

 Promising him that you’re not lying, you elaborate. “That’s part of why it was scary for me, I think. There was just something about you that made me so…I don’t know, willing? So yours?”

 The admission makes pesky pinpricks of tears sting the backs of your eyes. “And I was. I was so yours the whole time even though you weren’t mine–”

 “I was–” Jeongguk chimes softly. Interrupting, if only for the sake of trying to convince you.

 “Not really,” you argue. The tone you use comes across as somewhat detached. Like you’re just stating a fact. 

 Using the silence that nestles between you as an opportunity to think, you consider what you’re wanting to tell him. How vulnerable you’re willing to get. Your mouth opens before you feel like you’ve even made your decision.

 “I knew you liked me,” you acknowledge because you don’t want to be unfair, “but part of me always wondered: ‘how much does he?’ and ‘for how long will he?’. I was already scared that I was just a phase for you. Before Dasom ever said it.”

 Jeongguk tenses just a touch at the mention of his ex and you pretend not to notice, continuing with, “So when she said that I was just something you needed to get out of your system and you didn’t defend me? God, Jeongguk,” you get out, eyes squeezing shut. Wincing at the ghost of pain the memory brings back. “That hurt so much.”

 Despite your wanting to look him in the eye and come off strong while you relay how his actions made you feel; it’s impossible. Despite wanting to seem as though you’ve healed and grown and matured and like it just doesn’t hurt so bad anymore; you can’t face him.

 “And then everything happened so quickly?” you continue before he can get a word in, your words coming out rushed and frantic, “It felt like you didn’t even think about it, and like it was just so easy for you to let me go? Like I really was nothing just like she said–”

 He can’t stop himself from reaching out and quieting you when he hears the way your voice breaks. Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cry, not sure he could handle it if you did. Your hands are in your lap still, clenched together, so he rests a palm on your knee. 

 “___,” he says gently, “I need you to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”

 You keep talking like you don’t hear him.

 “It almost seemed like you were already over it, bored of me. And her saying those things was a convenient way to– ” you shake your head before sighing. “I was always scared that you’d end up getting tired of me, that you would stop wanting me and just get rid of me. And after what she said, it felt like you finally did. Like you used her words as an excuse so you could finally leave me.”

 “That’s not true, baby,” he reiterates, tongue slipping as he tries to console you again

 At the pet name you look up. Your red-rimmed eyes locking with his. 

 He stutters a bit as he backtracks, barely able to get out a stiff apology. 

 And your lips pull down in a deep frown, and your brows turn up confusedly. “You said you wanted to… fix things with me?”

 Jeongguk’s lips part, dim surprise taking over his face before he breathes a small yes.

 “I want that too,” you breathe back, “but I’m still so afraid Jeongguk.”

 “I know, I know you are– I am too–”

 “Not like me,” you counter, “You may be scared, but you’re not scared like me. You can’t be scared like me.” 

 Your words come out sharper than intended, too emotional for the facade you’re trying to portray. But you don’t dwell on the tone of your voice. Nor do you dwell on the brief ire that flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes. 

 “I’m scared that I’ll never catch up to you. You won’t ever know what that feels like because you’ll never be the one that’s worried about falling behind– you’re the one that’s ahead of the curve. I’m scared that I’m not good enough for you and Nari– that I can’t be. You have no reason to be scared of that.” 

 The fight to keep your voice level and in control dwindles. Every ounce of your pain can be heard as you let out the burdensome ache in your heart, little by little. 

 Each word is heavier than the last when you ask Jeongguk, “Why would you be afraid of not being good enough for someone who never made you question it?” 

 Jeongguk flinches. Visibly recoils as if your words are abrasive enough to hurt. 

 Which is what you wanted. You wanted to hurt him, but it doesn’t make you feel better like you anticipated. If anything his reaction makes your pain ricochet right back at you. Hurting him, hurting you.

 And then you consider that perhaps, you didn’t truly want him to hurt– that you might have just wanted him to be aware. To know what you’re scared of; how it hurts to be scared.  

 “Maybe you are scared, too,” you amend, “Maybe there are even a few things that we’re both afraid of… but being scared isn’t something we have in common.”

 The hurt from before is replaced by barely-hidden defensiveness. Jeongguk does try to hide it as he listens to you, though. You give him credit for that.

 “Being scared that you’ll realize that I actually am just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants, exactly like you thought, is a very specific fear,” you try to explain. “I’m scared that one day you’ll look at me but you won’t see me anymore– you’ll see a mistake that could have been avoided if you never came back. That I’ll cross your mind. But instead of thinking fondly… you’ll end up thinking about how you wish you had just stuck by your decision when you said you wouldn’t let me stay.”

 A defensive urge to argue the validity of his feelings comes naturally– he’s only human. His emotional side finds it unfair of you to determine, decide, and define his fears but the irony of the situation dawns on his logical side just as quickly. 

 The fact that you’re speaking to him in a manner that mirrors how he spoke to you all those months ago, doesn’t escape him. Instead, the similarities make him stop and think. Something he regrets not doing that night in his living room. 

 He concludes that arguing with you would be pointless. He knows you’re right and it doesn’t take him long to realize. 

 Yeah, Jeongguk’s scared. But just like you said– he’s not scared like you. Not scared of what you’re scared of. Jeongguk’s fears are more or less internal and he’s had a few of them for most of his adult life, since he became a father. Some of the fears may concern you in some way or another, but none of them manifested because of you or something you did or things you said. 

 He’s scared, but he’ll never be scared like you. Not when the things you’re afraid of only exist because of him. 

 The thought of it never going away, of you never being the same or free of the ache he caused, even after the insecurities and fears are dug up by the root– it makes Jeongguk feel like he’s going to be sick. 

 “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you end up saying after a few moments of watching Jeongguk struggle to get words out. “And I know you regret it. You showing up here proves that.”

 The small, sad smile you give him is too kind for what he did.

 “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jeongguk says, “For you, for Nari. I never thought– I’m so sorry, ___.”

 “I know,” you reassure, gently. 

 And you truly do know how sorry Jeongguk is. He obviously doesn’t have the words to express his remorse, but sincerity is written all over his face. His big doe-eyes dark and glassy and so genuine. Full of regret; the longing to go back and undo what can’t be undone. Somehow so full of warmth, just like you remember. 

 “I don’t want to fight anymore,” you say. 

 It doesn’t sound like you’re at your wit’s end or like you feel as if the conversation has reached it’s breaking point. Just sounds like what it means. Like you don’t want to fight. Not with him. Not with yourself. Not with what you’ve been wishing for since you lost it. 

 Jeongguk agrees, nodding. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it a fight. I want you to be able to talk to me about–” He’s flighty, moving his hands all about, like he’s nervous and has too many things he wants to say. “about everything, really. So, I promise, I’ll just listen–”

 You watch him for a few more seconds, letting the corners of your lips turn up just so. Then you reach for his hands, ceasing their movement with your own. 

 “Shush,” you laugh faintly, “There’s still a lot we have to talk about. So much– we can’t get through it all with one conversation. It’s gonna take a lot of them and a long time, probably. But I think we’ve covered the most important stuff, right?”

 You’re aware it’s going to take time to get through the maze of problems you and Jeongguk have created between each other.

 But you can’t help but think about all time that you wasted while making them. 

 And you don’t want to waste even more time by waiting till everything is figured out before you start letting yourself get past it. You don’t want to hinder the process of moving forward by getting lost trying to navigate the maze. Not when you’ve finally made your way back to each other. 

 So while the labyrinth hasn’t been solved, and all your issues haven’t been fixed, at least now, you don’t have to do it alone. You can resolve everything and find a way out together. 

 It’s possible that you’re too willing to push things aside, that you’re too keen to move past it all. That you’re not standing your ground, being too easy and too soft, too quick. That you’re not giving yourself enough time to consider what you haven’t touched on yet. To process what you have. 

 But as you told Jeongguk, you feel like what needed to be addressed has been. With time, everything else will be talked about. Which is enough for you and your eager heart. You don’t want to wait anymore, not when you’ve been waiting so long already.

 Jeongguk’s wearing a flush when you grin at him and he looks down at the pair of your hands, still slightly entangled on your duvet. His thumb rubs softly over your knuckles while he says, “If you’re sure?”

 Vaguely aware of Jeongguk absently toying with your fingers while he awaits your reply, you think it over just for the sake of it and end up remembering something.

 You hum musingly, making sure he can hear the smile you decorate it with. An attempt to diffuse the heavy air in your room till it’s something more buoyant; lighthearted and easier to breathe. You curl your manicured finger around one of his, trapping it briefly before untangling both your hands.

 “Actually,” you start. 

 So very attentive, Jeongguk whips his head up. 

 “Now that I think about it, you told me why it took you so long,” you reflect, “But you didn’t tell me why now.”

 Jeongguk opens his mouth to reply before he’s furrowing his brows, puzzled, pursing his lips into a line. It’s quiet while he thinks.

 A weak, hopeless simper sounds, and he shakes his head while running a hand through his hair. “Again, I wish I had a better answer for you.”

 You roll your eyes and change positions, now sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Okay, well, you didn’t just randomly show up! There had to have been something that made you come now; today.”

 Light, but genuine laughter rings in your room– it starts off sounding like it’s accidental, cut-off chuckles only heard because the person laughing can’t hold it in, and it ends as cute giggles that lilt throughout the space softly. 

 And it’s all Jeongguk’s fault. 

 “No,” he says, around a breathy giggle, “I really did. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I ended up caving and looking at your–” 

 It’s now your fault that sounds of amusement continue to filter in the air– Jeongguk’s eyes getting wide and his face turning pink is too funny and you can’t not laugh at him.

 He stutters when he tries to backtrack, “Y… Your– pictures? On my phone? In my camera roll?” 

 You narrow your eyes suspiciously, impishly. “Which of my pictures, hmm?”

 The flush coloring his cheeks runs down to his chest, the silver LV pendant of his necklace would probably be warm if you reached out and touched it. He would probably be warm too if you reached out and touched him.

 “No! Oh my god, not those! I did not look at those, okay? Anyway,” he rushes out, “I really was on my way to work! But add a couple of turns and a few steps–” he shrugs, “I guess now because I physically couldn’t keep myself from you any longer? Because then I was at your door and now I’m here. With you.”

 The giggles have finally ceased, and now it’s just your paired breathing that acts as low background noise while you both take the other in.

 “Now you’re here with me,” you repeat softly, with an even softer smile.

 Jeongguk’s eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments. He darts his tongue out to wet his own.

 “___. You were right,” he tells you, “It didn’t have to be all or nothing like I thought it did.”

 You nod once.

 “I’m sorry for not listening to you. For deciding for you and not letting you make your own choices. And for not even letting you explain your side that night. For how bad I hurt you and for all the things the hurt caused.”

 “Okay,” you breathe.

 “I should have listened to you.”

 Again, you nod.

 “I should have chosen you.”

 It’s almost instantaneous when tears well in your eyes.

 “But I was so scared of the way I wanted you and how badly I wanted it,” Jeongguk confesses, “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you before. For anybody.”

 Mild confusion makes a home in your eyes.

 He expects it before he sees it stir your features, so he’s not surprised when it appears. He finds himself smiling. Maybe because he’s wanted to tell you that since he realized it. Or maybe he wants to finally do what he should have done the night of the fight, and even before then. 

 Jeongguk smiles at your uncertainty because this time, he gets to make it go away. He gets to reassure you of your place in his life, of how important you are to him. Of how you’re worth trying for. He’s quick to shush you when your lips part to speak. 

 “No one,” he insists, “You’re so different, ___. And I feel so differently for you. I feel different when I’m with you. That’s part of why I was afraid. I was scared to want you because I didn’t know how to have you.”

 Tears are making his eyes gleam, glassy in the morning light that streams through your blinds. Yours are a mirror and you don’t know how you’ve kept the drops from spilling over.

 “I’m still fucking scared,” he admits, “Like you said, we’re both still scared. Because we have no god damn clue how this will turn out. If we’ll even be able to fix it and get back to the way we were. Who might be collateral damage if we can’t. If one of us will end up changing our mind. Or if we’ll end up even better; if we –me and you, together– will be the only thing that we’re sure about.”

 The urge to tell him that you’ve been sure ever since you found his round little bug of a baby in your grocery store is so strong– you think you may burst because of it. Maybe the lovestruck feeling in your chest has gone supernova. 

 “I have no clue about anything other than the fact that I want to be with you, ___.”  

 Let the record show that between you and him, Jeongguk is the one to let the first tear fall during this conversation.

 “I want to try.” 

 “Yeah–”

 “If you’ll let me, I want to try for you. And if you’ll have me, I want to try with you. Because if we don’t at least try– I think I’ll wish that we did forever.”

 When you beam at him and exhale a simple, ‘Okay’ and Jeongguk echoes it, he thinks this is all too easy.

 But then he remembers how everything with you has always been that way. Maybe not too easy, but just right. Concerning you, the hardest thing he’s had to do is be without. 

 He brings your hand to his lips, brushing your knuckles with a sweet, kiss. “I want to be with you,” he tells you again.

 You bite your lip to suppress your smile. “Then be with me.”

 This time he’s the one saying ‘Okay’ and you’re the one echoing.

 Until backtrack with a pout. “What… what am I? Like– to you.”

 “What do you want to be?”

 “Yours.” 

 Your answer is breathed so quickly, like you didn’t even have to think about it to know that’s what you wanted. Like that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. How fast you reply gives Jeongguk butterflies. Makes him giddy while he tries to calm himself as he confirms, “Mine,” before he adds quietly, a little shy, “I’ll introduce you as… my girlfriend?”

 Jeongguk is so endeared when you close your eyes, wistful when you ask him to say it again in an airy voice. 

 “My girlfriend,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his.

 When you open your eyes to look at him and he sees unshed tears heavy on your lashline, his heart pulls in his chest and it breaks a little when you murmur, “I didn’t know if I would ever hear you say that.” 

 “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

 A teardrop escapes the corner of your eye when you shake your head, smiling so sweetly, so happily. Jeongguk’s distracted, just taking it in and getting lost in everything that is you. So much so, that he doesn’t see it coming. Not until your arms are wrapped around his neck, his reflexively coming up to wrap around your waist like muscle memory. 

 Jeongguk takes a deep breath when he has you in his arms, nuzzles his nose into your hair. Pulls you impossibly closer, and he can feel how he squeezes the air out of you when you puff out a dulcet laugh into the crook of his neck. 

 When you bring your hand to the back of his head, the feel of your nails on his scalp and your fingers in his hair is enough to make him sigh, sink into the touch. It’s familiar. Feels like a natural progression, just like the way your cheeks brush when you pull away just slightly, only to come back. Closer this time. 

 His nose bumps yours, and he inhales your shaky sigh. 

 “I…”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk breathes. 

 The shift is swift. The temperament of the atmosphere smoothly transforms– going from something saccharine and tenderly sentimental to something decadently rich and heavy. The air all at once becomes thick and intoxicatingly heady; plush and ardently warm. 

 The build-up is gradual. At first, the sudden heady note of warmth that makes your room hazy just feels like a blanket. Like it covers softly, tickles the skin lightly. Then it begins to seep in so slowly, gradually, that it’s not noticeable until the heat of it can be felt bone deep. Until fingers shake with the desire to touch. 

 It starts with Jeongguk nosing along your jaw; down the length of your neck when you tilt your head to the side for him. It starts with the occasional, accidental brush of his lips against your skin. It starts with your hand gripping tight in his hair, a subtle try at pulling him in to keep him near. 

 It ends with a kiss.

 Albeit, a fleeting one– but still a kiss nonetheless. 

 Pulling himself back, Jeongguk’s features are tensed. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted as he struggles with himself. He’s rough when he gets a hold of you by your waist. His fingers digging in harshly; almost like he doesn’t realize how he’s handling you. But he’s gentle when pushes you away to put some space between you. 

 “Why–” you whisper, needy, as you bring your palms to cover his grip at your waist. You pet at the backs of his hands, coaxing him into letting them roam. You guide his touch down to your hips when he gives in briefly, encouraging him to touch you.  

 “I don’t know if– Maybe we shouldn’t–” 

 You crowd his space, bringing yourself to your knees and pushing his palms down to where the hem of your too-big sweatshirt grazes high on your bare thigh. Jeongguk groans after he loses his short internal battle. Can’t rob himself of squeezing at the meat of your thighs just for a second before he’s trying to pull his hands from yours.

 He doesn’t get very far because you end up cradling his face in your hands, angling his head up to look at you. And Jeongguk’s always been so easy for you. It’s no surprise how easily he yields to the movement; how easy his eyes slip shut. How easily he parts his lips when your tongue teases the seam; how easy it is to get lost in the taste of you. 

 “Shouldn’t what, Gguk?” you ask in a soft voice. Each word spoken between the kisses you’re trailing down the column of his neck.

 Jeongguk keeps his hands mostly to himself. Awkwardly letting them hover by your sides as he searches his brain, trying to recall the reason why he’s clinging to his resolve. It is so hard though, when you’re right in front of him. So willing and eager to let him have you. He finds himself following your lips when you barely let the plush center graze his cupid’s bow. 

 “Maybe we should… take it slow?” he offers, dazedly. It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but Jeongguk can’t help the way his voice carries up at the tail end like he’s not sure that’s really what he wants. 

 A little giggle falls from your lips, puffs hotly over his. And Jeongguk’s never thought you evil before, but right now he’s certain that you are. Because, with wistful mirth still in your voice, all you do is nod like you’re simply humoring him and say, “Yeah, maybe.”

 Then you kiss him again, sighing a delicate, ‘Touch me’ against his lips.

 You bring his awkward hands to your body, placing them on your tits, urging him to cup and squeeze over your sweatshirt. 

 Jeongguk exhales shakily, unable to keep himself from rolling them in his palms. 

 “Yeah,” you whisper, “Please.”

 His hold on your chest turns rough, accidentally letting his pent-up frustration out through his touch and taking it out on you. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but you still whine. Let out a high, airy keen as your eyes slip shut and your head tilts back. 

 There’s no warning. Only Jeongguk’s hands moving to your shoulders, followed by a push and then a tumble, ending with you on your back and Jeongguk hovering over you. He’s got your wrists pinned by your head, and he looks down at you with dark eyes. The frustration in them juxtaposes the surprise in yours. 

 “You know that’s not fair, ___,” he chides. His tone is harsh, trying to sound stern, maybe angry– but there’s a slight waver in his voice that tells you he’s struggling to stay collected. 

 Fussily, you squirm under him. You tug against the hold he has on your wrists, only for him to squeeze tighter. You cant your hips in an attempt to rub up against his, only for Jeongguk to just lift them higher. A laugh of incredulity pairs the disbelief on his face when he glances between your wiggling frame and your irritated pout. 

 “I’m trying to do things right,” he explains around his bemusement, as he roughly presses your wrists deeper into the mattress. “I’m trying to be good.”

 You stare up at him with pinched brows. He looks so pretty above you. Flushed a pretty pink with his lips parted and plumped by the kisses you managed to steal. A stray, misplaced strand of hair flutters with his heavy breathing. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips, and you can physically see how much he wants you; how hard it is for him to fight it.

 When he finally lowers his body to yours, it’s almost defeatedly. Jeongguk gives in and just rests his weight on you. Presses himself against you, hot and hard between your legs. Finding his place easily when you open up and make room for him.

 He keeps that pressure on his cock while he exhales a trembling, almost relieved sigh. His nose brushes yours but when you tilt your head to connect your lips, he pulls back. He does it again, taunting you with almost-kisses until you’re craning your neck again.

 He doesn’t kiss you back when he lets your lips connect. In fact, you can feel how he purses his stubbornly. You stay determined, unswayed by his resistance. Your soft kisses inch from his mouth to pepper cute, all over his blushing skin. The scar on his cheek, the bridge of his nose. The just barely off-center freckle beneath his bottom lip. When your palm naturally settles on his neck, fingertips over his pulse point, you let out a breathy noise of wonder when you feel how fast his heart is racing. 

 And he feels his cock kick shamefully in his pants, letting out a breathy noise of his own. You feel it too and you coo, soft and fond, as you trail your other hand down his spine until it’s flat on the small of his back, pressing encouragingly. 

 Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Jeongguk hangs his head to get closer to you. He bites gently at the pudge of your cheek, letting his teeth drag lightly until he’s mouthed hot, all the way to your ear.  

 “Why won’t you let me be good?” he whispers. 

 He croons prettily against the shell of your ear before he nips teasingly at your earlobe. A heat curls in your belly, making you suck in a short, whiny breath. The insides of your thighs clamp tight around his frame. 

 “Be good to me,” you gasp, arching up into him.

 Jeongguk moans quietly and buries his face in your neck when he can’t stop his hips from stuttering into a clumsy rhythm. Sloppily rutting his cock over your panties, uncoordinated and eager.

 Maybe he’s overly sensitive, hyperaware of your body underneath him, but when you begin to roll your hips, meeting his and matching his pace– he can feel how the little bit of added pressure has you opening up for him. Just enough for his hard-on to slide between, barely pillowed by your panty-covered pussylips. Even through the clothing, he can feel the difference. Like he knows you can. 

 He hears the unexpected moan you let out when you feel his cock rut over your clit and he feels the way your nails dig into his back at the sudden enhanced pleasure before he shifts to rest on his forearms so he can see too. 

 And what a pretty sight you are. 

 Eyes hazy and heavy, half-lidded as you look down your body to where he’s making you feel good. Cheeks flushed a rosy pink with arousal and maybe a little bit of abashment when you glance up at him and see him already watching you. You give him a small, shy grin before letting your eyes flutter closed. Basking in how he’s making you feel, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.  

 As he takes you in, his lips part with a low groan. His own pleasure coming from pleasuring you; heightened by every noise, look, and movement you make. Jeongguk gets such a specific satisfaction and gratification from making you feel good. From being good to you.

 “Is this what you want?” Jeongguk whispers, slowing down some. He settles into a steadier pace, rutting his cock up and down on your cunt with slow, lazy drags. 

 He grins to himself because of how quick you are to nod and let him know that, yes, this is what you want. His hand comes up to smooth some of the flyaways that have sprouted from your squirming and he cups your cheek when your turn into his touch. 

 “Hmm?” he prompts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

 You huff, annoyed, and he can’t help but coo, smitten. 

 “Yeah– yes I want this, but I–,” you start off strong. You hold his gaze until shyness wins and has you focusing on the necklace dangling from his neck. The LV sways some as he continues to rock his hips. “I want more, too.”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk asks, a smile lacing his dreamy tone. He gives a quick, soft peck to your red-bitten lips in lieu of letting you answer. “I know you do,” he tells you, murmurs it with open-mouthed kisses against your throat. He pulls at the neck of your sweatshirt, draws a violet into your collarbone, using his lips as the pen. Then he tugs the thin skin between his teeth briefly, making you inhale harshly before he kisses it better. 

 “Gonna take care of you,” he promises, “take my time with you.”

 Jeongguk proceeds at his own languid speed, lingering on every new inch of skin that’s revealed as he rids you of your sweatshirt. Of your panties. 

 He allows you your own pace as well. 

 Doesn’t spur you on when you’re slow to open up his dress shirt, doesn’t goad you into nimble quickness when your fingers stumble and it takes you far longer than it should to undo all the buttons. He doesn’t hurry you when your touch drags over his skin, or when your palms falter at his shoulders, or when your fingertips lag all the way down his arms when you finally slide the button-up off. When your shaky hands bide their time, hesitating at the buckle of his belt, he doesn’t rush you. 

 Jeongguk takes his time –and lets you take yours– as if time itself doesn’t exist when it’s passing between the both of you. As if each moment that comes and each moment that goes is inconsequential because moments are meaningless and time is simply a concept when forever is right now. 

 Nothing really matters and there’s no need to rush when he’s in your hands and you’re in his arms and forever is in his heart.  

 “Not yet,” he lilts, grabbing your wrists and sliding the flat of your palms up his tummy and away from his waistline. 

 “But I–”

 “But I–” he flirts coyly. 

 Your mouth opens to argue, but the words never get a voice. His mien makes the words in your throat fall mute and causes a feeling of wistfulness to rouse in your heart.  

 Knelt on his knees between your legs, smiling down at you, playful and flirty. Happy. Wearing a pink full-body flush– Jeongguk is stunning. Distractingly so. 

 He’s glowing; gentle yet radiant. A quiet fondness reflected in his eyes as he looks at you with that well-worn adoration of his. It’s a familiar affection. One that you’ve missed, yearned for, and memorized– one that you’ve tried to unlearn and tried to forget, too, because of how much it ached to remember. 

 Nostalgia is a wonted thing that taints good memories until it hurts to remember them. It warped the memory of Jeongguk’s adoration until even just a fleeting thought about it hurt. It made you want to wipe your memory clean just to be freed from the yearning.

 But with him looking at you the way he is, with that same raw adoration, you can’t fathom how you wanted to forget how it made you feel. How it still makes you feel. Because how good does it feel to be adored? How good does it feel to be wanted? How good does it feel to be finally his? 

 You dig your nails into his skin at the thought, and his tummy tenses. His grip on your wrists tightens and he lets out a soft hiss, the sound buoyed by a light, airy chuckle.

 His thumbs run over the pulse points in your wrists. “Lean against the headboard for me? Get comfy?”

 Cushioned by a few pillows, you do as he says, sinking into the down. Your knees are bent, and your arms are wrapped over your middle, now hyper-aware of how exposed you are comparatively. 

 Jeongguk’s top half is just as bare as you, only his necklace still on. But even though his lower body is covered, his bottoms are unforgiving. Dark slacks belted at his hips, the slight dip by his hipbones accentuated and his v-lines disappearing into the waistband where his cock is tucked away. Too hard and heavy to disguise, clothes doing almost nothing.  

 Not that he’s trying to hide it much at all. He’s palming himself casually, his touch light and his eyes dark. Tracking your movements while he waits for you to get settled. 

 When you are, Jeongguk makes his way to you, his hands resting on your knees as he lets his gaze roam. From your eyes to your lips, to your pillowy tits, to your closed legs. You feel a light pressure, almost tentative like he’s asking for permission with his touch.

 He’s on his best behavior though, so he asks you as well. And when you hear how his voice comes out a little deeper, with an almost imperceptible tremble, as he gently asks, “Can I?”,  your lashes flutter and your thighs reflexively press together, before you let him guide them open. 

 Time isn’t real, but any time in your bed shouldn’t go to waste. So he swiftly resituates himself, resting between your spread legs with his lips naturally finding their place on your neck, his hands on your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s quick, but attentive, as he relocates his mouth. The spit from his kiss marks leave a faint, wet trail from where they start at your neck down to the swell of your tits. He sighs when he gets a hold of them, jiggling a bit and squeezing. He glances at you through his lashes, as he plays your nipples, teasing them till they’re hardened by his touch. He smiles to himself when he sees you bring your bottom lip between your teeth to keep quiet.

 When he uses his lips to tease, he hears you sigh an airy, pleased sound. He’s smug as he swirls his tongue, flicks lightly over the stiff little peak. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding and pushing into him, before it’s released in a stuttery exhale. When you get a hold of his hair, the strands curl around your fingers, softly, like how you hold him close and cradle him to your chest. 

 He gives the paired nipple the same attention. Has you mewling prettily with each lick and suck. Whining with each bite and tug. 

 As he follows the length of your body, he does so with small, suctioning bites. A little nip just below your sternum, a little nip under your ribs. One at the softest part of your lower belly, right next to the pink heart of your belly ring. He gives the jewel a tiny, baby kiss.

 “This is the same one that you had in the first time we…” he stammers, too aware of the blush that simmers just under his skin at the thought. “We… you know… right?”

 Jeongguk’s laying on his front, his head resting against your inner thigh. His arms wrapped around your legs, resting on your belly. The tattooed fingers of his right hand absently toy with the dangly part of the jewelry. 

 Something warms you from the inside, pleasantly surprised by the mushy, lovesick feeling that washes over you. Your heart beats, rapid in your chest, and you wonder if Jeongguk can feel the whirlwind of butterflies in your tummy under his palms. 

 You nod, blushingly and shy. “Yeah, it’s… yeah.”

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he nods back. The puffs under Jeongguk’s eyes form when he smiles and adds, “This one is my favorite… Gonna make you feel good now, okay?”

 He says it so casually, that you want to laugh a little, but the anticipation it sparks makes you tense. Your pussy clenches on nothing, and you can feel that tell-tale heartbeat pulse between your legs. 

 “Okay… yeah…” you whisper dumbly, trying to hide how eager you are. You slowly open your legs a little wider so you can see him better, so he can touch you better. 

 Jeongguk switches from having one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to it resting palm down on your mons. He uses his thumb to lightly run along your plump folds, up and down. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, and his tongue peeks out to wet his lips a little before he nibbles on the inside of his lip, a soft smile making the corners curl. 

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he says again, his tone playful and a little wistful this time. He kisses just above your slit.

 Past lovers had said your cunt was pretty or maybe perfect when they found themselves between your legs, but Jeongguk has always called your pussy cute. It’s just a thing he does. And you don’t know why, but it never fails to make you blush, a little giddy and shy– something just so simple and sweet about his word of choice. 

 Even now, it has you wiggling and trying to inch your legs closed as you bring your hands up to hide your face. It’s whiny, but you both know you don’t really mean it when you say, “Stooooop” the word dragged out and laced with pleased flattery.

 You can feel Jeongguk’s warm laughter puff over your cunt as he urges you to keep your legs spread. He hums as the giggles subside and says, “Don’t be shy now, I’m just getting started.”

 A wistful sigh sounds, and it’s soft and cute and taunting when you say, “Okay well, hurry up.”

 You shift slightly here and there to get more comfortable, running a hand through your hair as you resist the urge to smile back at Jeongguk when he gives you a look. When you bring your arm down from your hair, Jeongguk snags it, guiding your hand to your cunt. But when you start to play yourself he stops you, tuttingly.

 “Don’t touch, just– open up for me,” he instructs, “Show me.”

 Jeongguk groans under his breath when you do as he says. When he stroked over your pussy lips just a moment ago, they were plush and smooth, soft to the touch with your arousal tucked neatly between your folds. But with them spread, he can see how you’re glossy with slick; so dewy when he’s barely even touched you. 

 “You’re already so wet. How long have you been like this, hmm?” he wonders aloud, gathering a small bit of the sticky clear at your opening with his finger before just barely pushing it inside. Kind of like he’s trying to put the little droplet back where it came from; not let it go to waste. Then he brings his touch to your clit and your pussy slick aids the up and down swipes of his thumb. 

 “Ah– fuck,” you faintly gasp. 

 Jeongguk’s cock pulses as you bring your other hand down, using both to spread yourself open more and pull back the hood of your clit. Making sure his touch is direct and the sensation feels as good as possible. The thought of you already being so greedy for pleasure is enough for him to leak, precum surely leaving a wet patch in his briefs. 

 Even though he’s being gentle, when he rubs over your exposed clit, you shy away from his touch despite being so fiendish for it. Jeongguk babies you with a coo because he knows that you’re probably so sensitive. You gave yourself almost no time to warm up, afterall. 

 “Too much?” he asks you.

 With a shake of your head, you say, “No, no… just– slowly, please.”

 Your words make him smile and he gives your inner thigh a honeyed kiss for being so good. The smile lingers because slow is the pace he always intended to use, at your request or not. It’s how he intends to finish you too. For the first time, at least. 

 Jeongguk keeps that slow speed until your body relaxes and another few drops of clear slick drip for your cunt. The thumb of his other hand rubs softly over your taint as he collects what you leak and tucks it back inside. Your pussy clenches and your hole puckers at the sensation every time, and it makes him fucking throb. 

 The thumb on your clit only speeds up enough for it to not be torturous or agonizingly slow, the pace satisfying but remaining lax and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. Once he finds a good rhythm, he keeps the motions constant and consistent.

 When you start to get antsy and fidget, he smiles to himself knowingly. 

 “Feels good, baby?” he asks you, and when you nod, he whispers, “Yeah? Look so pretty…”

 And you didn’t lie. It does feel good. But he doesn’t go any faster. He doesn’t push the fingers at your opening in any farther. And after a handful of seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours– there still isn’t any indication that he plans to.  

 When you roll your hips, trying to hint at what you want, Jeongguk stops you with a scolded tsk, telling you to stay still. The sound you let out is frustrated and petulant.

 There’s a taunting note in Jeongguk’s voice when he says, “I thought you said it feels good?”

 “It does,” you tell him, “But– faster?”

 Jeongguk’s expression is entertained, chuffed even. “I told you I was gonna take my time with you. Need you to be patient for me, baby–”

 “Please–”

 “Hush, ___.” 

 There’s still lingering amusement in his tone, but there’s also a sharpness, a hint of disapproval and something stern that wasn’t there before. It’s enough of a warning to silence the begging on the tip of your tongue. 

 “I’ll get you there, baby,” he says, his voice sweet again. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

 It’s quiet for a moment. Then–

 “I changed my mind, it doesn’t feel good.”

 Jeongguk doesn’t even look up from your pussy when he asks a preoccupied, “No?” Then he peeks at you, and when you give a pouty nod he hums. It’s smiling and mirthful when he dismisses you. “Well, don’t worry. It will soon.”

 Jeongguk is content between your thighs, still playing with your clit slowly. He only checks on you when your squirming mostly stops and you become suspiciously mute. 

 He snorts when he sees you scowling at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” After a few seconds with no response, he continues with, “Oh, so you’re going to be difficult now?”

 You shrug, snooty. 

 Laughing, he asks, “You’re really gonna act like it doesn’t feel good?” The corners of his lips curl softly and his eyes narrow like he’s scrutinizing you. His head tilts a little when he continues with, “Like you’re not leaking, right now? Like you wouldn’t be making a mess on your sheets if I wasn’t helping you?”

 Jeongguk watches your cheeks steadily turn a deep pink at his words until you look away from him, turning your nose in the air. You probably would have covered your face with your hands to avoid his gaze had they not been occupied.

 He chuckles again when he’s only met more silence. Just the slightest squirm when he tucks another leaked droplet back into your cunt. To make a point.

 “That’s okay, you can be mad at me as long as you’re patient, too,” he says, tone grossly fond and a perfect example of the patience he wants from you. “Still gonna make you cum. Still gonna be good to you and give you what you want.”

 And it seems what people say about patience being a virtue and all that, is true. Because just like Jeongguk said, with just a bit more time and some decorum, it does start to feel even better.   

 Like the way he’s been touching you, the come-up is slow and steady. The hot waves of pleasure that ebb in your lower belly. The rise and fall of your chest that gradually gets faster. The noises that get harder and harder to keep in. 

 Jeongguk doesn’t need to hear you, though, to know he’s getting you there. But he’s enjoying this brattier side of you –he remembers you being difficult every now and then, but overall you were always so good for him; never fought him too hard on things– so he humors you by asking, “Starting to feel nice, baby?”

 Everso tart, you shrug again, looking off to the side. 

 Still, Jeongguk doesn’t need to see your face to know he’s getting you there. Your pussy is a whistleblower, telling him everything he needs to know. Your cunt– leaking non-stop, contracting constantly. Your tiny clit– now puffy and swollen from all his attention. 

 Your fingers holding your pussy lips apart for him have a mild tremor. Your brows are arched when you finally give him your attention again, watching his thumb swipe up and down, over and over again. Your legs are beginning to tremble beside him. Your head is lulling back, and your lungs are exhaling a lewd sigh. 

 “I– I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly.

 Jeongguk purrs, is just about to tease you and your stubbornness with something along the line of ‘Really? Thought it didn’t feel good, ___’. But he doesn’t get the chance because of how close the string in you is to snapping. How it’s pulled so taut that it has you near tears, that slow and steady come-up finally peaking.

 “Oh my god, Gguk– my– my pussy’s gonna cum,” you cry quietly, legs shaking as you struggle to keep them open.

 “Mhm, I told you, baby,” he hums, smug, “Let me see how good it feels.”

 Your face is turned into your shoulder, but you nod for him. Focusing on the ruining, slow, consistent rubbing of his thumb. The pleasure is so mind-numbingly good that, as much as you want to cum, you try to make it last as long as possible. 

 Which isn’t much longer at all, only a few more vertical swipes over your clit is all you can handle before you’re mewing a soft warning and cumming so hard your body convulses.

 “That’s my girl. So pretty, baby. Did so good; always such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk praises, full of lust-filled awe as he watches you finish. He feels your clit pulsing under his thumb and he sees your cunt squeezing repeatedly around nothing and now he that he’s not preventing it, he sees how your pussy cums– leaking everything that he tucked away and dripping down to your sheets. Making a mess like he knew it would.

 He continues to rub your clit until your body twitches, curling in on yourself as you close your legs and bring them to your chest. Wrapping your arms around the backs of your knees and pulling your legs to your chest, you curl into yourself for protection as Jeongguk moves to shed himself of the rest of his clothes. Then he sits on his heels while he watches you, amused. 

 Even though you’ve made a great attempt at hiding your pussy away, with the way you’re positioned it still peeks out from between your thighs. Puffy and shiny. 

 You’re on your back with your eyes closed, still catching your breath. The feel of Jeongguk’s hands on you makes you jump, and when his touch moves form the backs of your thighs closer to your sensitive cunt, you whine, kicking at his arms weakly.

 “Shh,” he murmurs, “I won’t touch, I just want to look.”

 Somewhat soothed by his words, you begin to shift to a more relaxed position but Jeongguk pushes your legs back together and your knees back to your chest. 

 You gripe at being manhandled. “What if I want to see, too?” 

 “You don’t need to see if I tell you what I see,” Jeongguk reasons.

 “It’s mine,” you argue.

 “Ours,” he corrects.

 After telling Jeongguk that he’s dumb and asking him to please shut up, both of you dissolve into a fit of laughter. When you kick again, trying to get his shoulder as punishment, he gets a grip on your leg before you can land the hit and he kisses your ankle. You sigh.

 It’s quiet, and you’re content letting Jeongguk pet at you, listening as he tells you about what he sees. He says cute a few times. Wet, messy. His fingers brush over your folds, even plumper than before, and you can feel the sticky wetness that stays behind when he moves his touch to somewhere else.

 When he uses his thumbs to part your pussy lips, you hear him whine. The breathy noise makes you grin, and you hum lightly. 

 “Still cute?” you ask aloud. Eyes on the ceiling, smile still on your lips.

 Jeongguk knows he said he wouldn’t touch, but he doesn’t think you’re too sensitive anymore. He still bypasses your clit just in case when he slowly runs his fingertip to your opening. When he presses into the second knuckle, you moan sweetly and the sound mixes with the audible wetness. There’s a crystalline string still attached to his finger when he pulls away. 

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk hums, answering your question. “But so messy.”

 You bite your lip when Jeongguk slips his finger in again, a little father this time. 

 “Clean me up, then,” you whisper, airy and wispy. 

 Jeongguk hums and when you look to the sound, you can see him peeking at you over your bent knees that are still pulled to your chest. He scrunches his nose at you cutely, and you mirror the curve of his lips.

 “I guess I should, since I’m the one who made you make such a mess,” he hums, like he’s mulling it over. But the fact that he does so while lowering his face to your cunt shows that he’s already made his decision. 

 In this position, you can’t see him and it makes you tense in anticipation while you wait.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a little mean to keep you waiting, but he can see you so perfectly like this. Can see how you’re trying control your arousal and calm yourself down with deep breaths. He can see how it’s not working.

 “You’re shaking,” he observes dreamily. 

 Your pussy leaks and he watches that glossy slick drip down. He uses his pointer finger to play with the droplet at your hole, swirling the dewiness around the cinched muscle.

 The sigh you let out is stuttered, and your hole clenches under his touch before you force yourself to relax again. You swallow your embarrassment before you admit, “I want it really bad, Gguk.”

 You sound like you’re close to crying and Jeongguk soothes you with wet kisses on your thighs. 

 “All you have to do is ask, baby,” Jeongguk tells you gently. His kisses move till they’re right next to your pussy, his tongue poking out to lick just outside your folds. His thumbs pull you open and he blows lightly.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper. 

 Jeongguk’s voice is full of flirty, mirth when he asks, “What do you say? Hmm?”

 The heartbeat in your cunt is the only thing you can focus on. The pulsing is so loud and strong that it drowns everything else out. You don’t even really hear it when you sigh a hazy, “Please, sir.” 

 Predictably, your words go straight to his cock. But weirdly enough, he also feels them in his heart? He can’t explain it but somehow the lust thrumming through him melts into something fond? A lovesick impulse has him opening your legs so he can slot himself in between.

 He doesn’t lay on you but holds himself above on a braced arm. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek as he looks at you. The corners of your eyes are damp, confirming the tears he thought he had heard in your voice earlier. Your lips are redder and a bit swelled, probably from you pulling them between your teeth.  

 Jeongguk kisses the corner of one eye, then the other, and then your lips. His thumb glides over your cheekbone. He sounds gentle when he says, “No ‘sir’ today, okay? Just Gguk.”

 You nod in his hold. 

 “Good girl,” he smiles, soft and sweet. “I’ll clean you up now, won’t tease you anymore.”

 You breathe a relieved sigh as Jeongguk kisses all the way down your tummy and you think about how good it’s going to feel, after all this time, to have his mouth all over your cunt. To feel his tongue licking into you, deep and slow. To feel his lips wrapping around your clit with light sucks. 

 The closer Jeongguk gets to your pussy, the harder it is to keep still. He smiles as you squirm and you can feel it in the juncture of your inner thigh where his mouth has strayed. It’s not too long before he gets back on track, kissing his way to your pussy till his lips are tucked between your plush folds and the tip of his tongue is circling your clit. 

 Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as you sit up, resting on your elbows to watch him. Just the sight of him is enough to make the first surge of heat curl in your belly. He’s got his eyes closed, lashes sitting pretty on the highs of his cheek as he licks at you. Cleaning you up and making a mess of you all at once. 

 “You look so pretty,” you whisper as you card a hand through his hair, pushing the stands off his forehead and out of his face.

 Without stopping his tongue, Jeongguk glances up at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He moans pleased and happy into your pussy. Only pulls away for a second to whisper a cute ‘thank you’.

 His tongue is busy and so are his hands, running them up your body. When he gets to your tits, he’s harsh. Digging in and squeezing with palms that are just as greedy as his mouth. He uses the hold he has on them to pull himself closer, push his tongue deeper. The harshness of his touch makes you hiss, the hand you have in his hair tugging. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes roll back a little before he loosens grip, squeezing your tits once more, gently this time, as an apology. Then he’s smoothing his palms along your waist till one’s wrapped around your thigh and the other’s resting on your tummy.  

 He pulls away briefly to look at you, offering a sheepish grin before he pecks just above your slit. The hand he has on your belly absently fiddles with your bellyring.

 “Sorry,” he says, “I just– I don’t know, I didn’t notice how rough I was being.”

 You hum while you rest your feet on his back and wiggle your toes. 

 “I think I’ve just been wanting you for so long…” He turns his head and nuzzles into your leg by his head, his hair tickling the sensitive skin. “And now that I have you, I–” His lips graze your inner thigh with every word and when he’s at the softest part, he bites gently. 

 On a sigh, you ask, “You what?”

 Resting where his teeth just were, he tilts his head, looking up at you. “It’s hard for me to control myself. I just– can’t get enough of you.” His words are said with a sigh and uttered in between roaming wet kisses. 

 After he promises he’ll be more careful with you, he begins to lick broad stripes over your cunt. When you spread your legs wider, you can feel the flat of his tongue against your clit. But it’s just slightly, just a brush of his tongue. 

 “My clit,” you moan, looking down your nose at him, “Play with my clit.”

  He hums, pulling back a little. With your legs parted so wide, your pussy lips are spread just enough for him to see the little bud. He watches you as he uses the very tip of his tongue, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive spot just under your hood.

 Your brows pinch and your legs twitch as they naturally try to inch close, the feel of Jeongguk’s tongue so good and so much that your body is already on the verge of being overwhelmed. 

 “Ah– yeah, like that, Gguk,” you sigh letting your head roll back, basking in how good he’s making you feel, “Keep licking my pussy like that.”

 Your eyes lull shut while you let him make you feel good, and it’s then that you notice his hand on your tummy is still toying with your piercing. It’s distracting only for a moment, only before you realize that every time he does something to your clit with his tongue, he does the same to the dangly part of the jewelry with his fingers.

 When Jeongguk circles your clit, he twirls the charm. When he licks up and down over your clit, the little heart gets flicked too. When he suctions his lips and sucks your clit in and out of his mouth, he tugs gently on your belly ring.

 You can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose. One part of you thinking the patterns match up too well for it to be unconscious, the other part thinking it could just be an absentminded coincidence. You also can’t be sure why the nuanced touches are making the pleasure in your gut curl so tight; burn so hot.

 “Gguk– you’re gonna make me cum again…” you drone, lustdrunk. 

 He smiles while his tongue continues to lick lightly. “Am I?”

 While looking down your body at him, you nod. Your body already pulling taut with the tension that always preludes your orgasms.

 Jeongguk’s lips wrap around your clit and he gives a quick sucking kiss before he pulls away with a little pop! sound. “Not yet, I’m not done cleaning you up.”

 Groaning, you throw your head back. “You said you weren’t gonna tease anymore.”

 “I did,” he confirms, his big palms finding the backs of your thighs and pushing them back, “But not so you could cum– so I could clean up your mess–”

 “Your mess–”

 “Our mess,” he amends, the tips of his fingers straying to the newly exposed parts of you. Jeongguk brushes over your hole, and you suck in a small gasp. “You’re messy here too, baby.”

 Whining softly, you squirm as Jeongguk presses light, sucking kisses into your skin and there’s a subconscious urge to close your legs to keep him from getting where he so clearly intends. At the first signs of subtle hesitance, you feel his hands hold your legs open more firmly

 “Let me?” he breathes, “Please?”

 And something about how his voice is so soft –hazy and dreamy and full of so much lust and desire– has you relaxing, giving in. Docile and pliant in his hands. 

 You suppose some things may never change.

 The first feel of his tongue tasting you where no one has before makes you exhale a shaky sigh. Your hole puckering under the featherlight licks he gives. When he circles the cinched muscle, your mouth falls open and you look down your body and between your open legs to where Jeongguk already has his eyes on you. 

 His eyes get little puffs under them when he sees your reaction and smiles. The confusedly pleasured pinch of your brows. The tense way your hands grip the sheets under you.

 Giving your cheek a quick peck, he asks, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

 It makes the memory of him –hot and hard and leaking with your tongue on his hole– flash in your mind. It reminds you that he knows what he’s doing to you, that he knows he’s making you feel good because you made him feel the same way. Sure the anatomy’s different, but a tongue is a tongue and a hole is a hole. 

 In lieu of being difficult, you answer him with a moan; with your head hitting your pillows again.

 That’s confirmation enough for Jeongguk as he echoes your moan with his own. He wraps his lips around the tight muscle in a nasty wet kiss and then drags his tongue up and along your leaking center till he’s at your clit where he plays until he works you into a whiny mess.

 You’re tensing, and he can feel how your body shifts as your chest expands with the deep breaths you’re taking. Like you’re trying to focus and keep yourself earthbound by delaying the impending high. 

 It’s a high that’s inevitable though, and you have a warning on the tip of your tongue only for it to go to waste when Jeongguk makes his way down again as soon as he senses it.

 And he repeats this– alternating between rimming you tauntingly and eating you till he can tell you’re right on the edge. You can feel how he smirks and you’re sure it’s amusement that you can hear prettying up little noises he purrs. His continuous teasing has you letting out barely contained whiny keens. 

 But Jeongguk can tell you’re doing your best to behave. The brattish way about you from before is nowhere to be seen. Not even when he feels your body slump for the nth time, panting from another almost-orgasm he takes away.   

 “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Jeongguk wonders aloud, pulling back a little to see how your pussy clenches in anticipation.

 He hears you swallow, flicks his eyes up to watch as you bring a hand up to tug a little at your hair. It trembles a little as you bring it down to his locks.

 “I- yeah… just… please…” You tug, pulling him to your clit by the crown of his head and holding him there with both hands. “Just stay there, please…”

 You can’t help the way that you start to roll and grind against his face. Jeongguk’s lips and his tongue rubbing against you repeatedly with the up and down motion of your hips, and his nose bumping your clit a little every now and again. 

 His hands dig into your waist like he’s trying to pull you closer, suffocate himself with your cunt. It’s when he shakes his head with subtle little side to side motions over your clit that your pleasure peaks with your legs shaking before they’re closing around his head.

 You cum hard and quietly, hushed ‘don’t stop’s and ‘keep going’s tumbling from your lips as you hold his mouth against you until you can’t take it anymore. You use one hand to pull him away by the hair, your other coming down to press against your still pulsing pussy. 

 With the hold you still have in his hair, you deliriously guide and maneuver him upwards. You’re still trying to catch your breath, so the quiet awed, ‘Whoa…’ you voice sounds airy

 The position you’ve got Jeongguk in now has him straddling you across your upper torso with strong thighs caging you in. His cock bobbing a little right in your face. Heavy and flushed, the tip an angry shade of pink and shiny with precum. It’s instinctive when you reach out with your small hand to wrap around the base. And again, something awe-filled tumbles from your mouth.

 “You’re so hard…” 

 The words float past your lips in the form of a breathless whisper, your lashes fluttering as your gaze jumps from his cock to his face. Your hand strokes lightly, just your fingertips running over the warm, silky skin. 

 “Missed you,” Jeongguk says with a tiny, unabashed shrug. As if that’s explanation enough for the state he’s in.

 He smiles with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth and you smile back.

 The pad of your thumb rubs at the underside of the crown when a drop of precum leaks, massaging it in messily. “Can I use my mouth?”

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk sounds, not trusting his voice enough to not shake.

 You begin by placing weighted kisses along his length, starting at the base till your lips pucker around the slit. The heady taste of precum makes you purr, moaning softly. Jeongguk’s hips cant forward, and when you glance up you can see how his head has rolled back.

 Smiling at how affected he already is by the smallest things, you run your teeth over the sensitive head. You anticipate the hiss that Jeongguk sucks in. Your tongue swirls around to soothe and to taste before your mouth opens to swallow. 

 The tip of his cock barely grazes the back of your throat before Jeongguke is pulling his hips back and choking just slightly on the whiny gasp that gets caught in his throat. He threads a hand in your hair and tugs you off. 

 Your forehead is resting against his lower tummy, and you giggle a little before you kiss at the slight jutting of his hipbone. His cock throbs, and he groans.

 “What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling into him.

 You can feel his fingers massage lightly at your scalp, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking down at you, lovesick as he rolls his eyes at your playfully. 

 “Go slow, okay?” he asks softly, “Tease me a little?”

 Closing your eyes briefly as you let the sound of his moonstruck voice wash over you, you kiss sweetly at his hip once more before giving small kitten licks to the warm, flushed skin of his cock. He sighs like he’s in love.

 “Like this?” you ask, coquettishly. 

 Jeongguk nods when you look up at him with your mouth open and the tip of your tongue flicking lightly.

 “Lick the tip,” he whispers while he gets a hold of himself and guides it to your mouth. 

 You keep your eyes on him as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue with long licks.

 “Good… that’s good baby…” he says airily.

 Jeongguk glances down his nose at you for just a moment longer before his head is rolling back, and he’s moaning. His little sounds are quiet, but they’re almost constant. And you’re really not doing much, just licking softly at his frenulum, but you can already feel how his cock is getting stiffer, can see how the muscles in his tummy tense and untense… like he’s already getting close.

 Kissing the crown, you pull away, stroking over him lazily. Squeezing at the base when he kicks in your palm. “Already?” you ask gently.

 Jeongguk’s eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but at your choice of words, he laughs lightly. “Yes, already,” he tells you, pointedly. “That’s why I said to go slow.”

 Slow is good for you. Slow lets you take it all in. Take all of him in. 

 Slow lets you tease drop after drop of precum out; lets you coax your name from Jeongguk’s lip over and over again until you’re sure you’ll hear his lovechants in your dreams tonight. Slow lets you memorize the way that his hands twitch wherever they touch you, how he gasps when your tongue does something that feels extra nice, how he whines when you bring your free hand up and roll his balls in your palm. 

 He’s a bit predictable, endearingly so with the blush on his cheeks as he urges the hand toying with his balls a little farther back. You smile to yourself as you touch him, rubbing at his taint and taking a moment to just watch his face. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes are shut, mouth just barely parted. His brows pinch just slightly when you inch your touch farther back and the cinched muscle clenches briefly under your fingertips, before he relaxes. It’s light and hazy when he whispers, “Yeah, baby…”

 The light circles you’re tracing around Jeongguk’s hole have his cock throbbing. You have to wrap your lips around the head to keep him still enough to taste and properly tease, sucking with tiny bobs of your head as you drink down everything he leaks. 

 “I– ___, oh my god–” Jeongguk pants, looking down at you, like he can’t believe you or your mouth, can’t believe how good it feels to have you again. 

 You hum, lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock as you smile up at him as best you can. His chest expands with a sharp inhale when you press your fingers a littler firmer against his hole.

 “Want me to put them in?” you ask between the soft open-mouthed kisses you press to his cock.

 The sound that Jeongguk lets out makes your kisses cease and has you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Your thighs rub together, and your pussy is needy between them.  

 Jeongguk’s never done it before, at least not fully and with someone else. But the thought alone is almost enough to make him finish. It would be a first for you and him, together. Something he’s been wanting, craving.

 He’s still trying to get his thoughts in order when you prompt him with a patient, ‘Hmm?’. 

 “I- No, no–” he ends up saying, “Just– just play with me.”

 It’s sighed, laced with lust and contentment. Having you right now, just playing as he said, is more than enough for him. The anticipation does feel nice though, hot and sweet like a whispered promise of next time. Jeongguk wonders if you’ll ruin him. 

 “You just want me to play?” you ask, “You don’t want to cum?”

 And Jeongguk’s sure you will. Ruin him, that is. If you haven’t already.

 Your voice comes out lovily teasing, and your hands stay busy while you look up at him, eyes big and so pretty. Lips glossy with spit, maybe a little bit of his precum. 

 “Not– not yet?” 

 Jeongguk’s voice sounds unsure in your ears, and his actions contradict his words when you bring your lips to his leaking tip. His hips roll forward seemingly on their own accord, the most sensitive part of his cock rubbing against your tongue that you’ve pillowed underneath the crown. 

 A choked little whine falls from his open mouth before his head is lulling back and his hands are coming to your hair. Humming, you suction your lips around the head and bring the hand you don’t have busy to his hips, urging him to keep rocking his hips, slow so you can keep the pressure from your tongue constant. 

 “Oh my god– baby… baby–” Jeongguk moans, his gaze back on you. His brows furrowed and arched up, his mouth agape. 

 Under your touch, you can feel his muscles tense. How his breaths come out huffed and strained. How he sometimes tries to pull his hips away before he pushes them in like he rethought it, maybe like he never meant to. How no matter how hard he tries to keep from doing it, the stalling pace of his hips picks up.

 And you can tell he’s going to cum. 

 He keeps muttering these fucked out little whispers of your name, of baby, of my baby. Almost like they’re warnings, maybe pleas. But not pleas for you to stop, or tease him anymore. You can hear the difference, can feel it in the way he touches you. Can taste it on your tongue with every heavy drop of precum that he’s leaking.  

 It’s like a string snaps in him, when he groans something deep and dissonant and his hips stop all together and his hold in your hair turns almost painful as he uses his grip to work your mouth over his cock.

 “Yeah,” he breathes, “Don’t fucking stop… Gonna make me fucking cum–”

 His cock is throbbing in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence. Coating your tongue in so many thick, hot shots of white. You hum, moving your fingers from massaging his taint so that you can roll his balls in your palm. 

 Jeongguk’s hand is shaking a little when he brings it down to cup your face, when he gently pulls you off him. His cock still fat and bobbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He guides your gaze to his.

 He’s bracing himself above you with his forearm against your headboard, looking down at you a little sweaty and so flushed. Chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He’s got a little smile on his face when he runs the pad of his thumb over the plump of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively. The little smile on his lips grows before he’s biting it down.

 His thumb presses down on the fleshy muscle, and you naturally let your lips wrap around it.

 “Good girl,” he says, softly.

 His words are tangible, and you close your eyes and you smile as you just let the praise glide over your body. It’s almost like you can feel each letter press a kiss into your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s a copycat as he too presses kisses here and there while he resituates himself. Going from straddling your ribcage to finding his home between your legs. Until you manuver him once more. He’s still home, between your legs, but on his back with you straddling him now.

 Jeongguk doesn’t complain at the manhandling. Just looks up at you, rubs little nonsensical patterns just above the creases of your thighs. 

 “Can we do it now?”

 His laugh is bright and loud at first before he gets a hold of himself, but he’s still smiling as he lets his shining eyes and his hands wander. His fingertips trialing over your skin until his gets his hands to your tits. His thumbs flick over your nipples while he hums, amused. 

 “Now you have to wait for me to be ready again,” he tells you conversationally, still teasing you.

 You pout playfully, letting your own fingers explore, tracing the line of ink where his sleeve comes to an end on his shoulder. “So boring, Gguk,” you jest.

 He scrunches his nose at you. “Why do you think I told you, ‘not yet’?”

 Rolling your eyes, you reposition yourself; less over his torso and more over his hips. “Well,” you start, lowering your pussy down to where his cock lays flat on his tummy, “Waiting doesn’t have to be boring.” You drag your cunt over his still plump, but not-quite hard cock. 

 One of his hands quickly jerks down to get a hold of your hips and stop your movements. He hisses.. 

 He says something about how he never said it had to be boring as you reach between your bodies and get a hold of his half-hard cock. Goes on about how he literally just came and how he needs a second to recuperate as you bring the head to your wet opening. 

 “Can I?” you ask vaguely, interrupting him.

 He doesn’t say anything more, just gives you the littlest nod and he squeezes his eyes shut while you squeeze him into you. He’s not there yet, but he’s still sensitive and its still a tight fit.

 Jeongguk looks down his chest to where you’re sitting prettily on his slowly hardening cock. His eyes roll back slightly before he’s scrubbing one of his hands over his face. “You’re–”

 “Did you watch our video?” you interrupt again. 

 Stuttering a little bit, and winching some, Jeongguk uses the couple of seconds it takes for you to bring yourself down to him, to think. 

 “No, felt guilty… tried to hold out completely but ended up giving in and thinking about you…” he says, his hands finding their place at your hips.. 

 His answer isn’t what you expected but it still has you smiling softly, chest to chest, resting on your elbows, and playing with his hair. “And what did you think about?” you muse, words breathy and flirty.

 Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively dart to your curved lips. “Your mouth.”

 You scrunch your nose at him cutely as you ask, “On your cock?” 

 He gasps when you grind your hips just a little, the movement stiffening his cock up that much more. Jeongguk can feel his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head, the hands he has on your hips moving to your thighs and then back up, squeezing and making little chills crawl across your skin.  

 “On my lips…” he admits quietly, licking them. “Missed kissing you.”

 With a heart that grows fond in your chest, you lean down and give what he missed. Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, melts underneath you. He cranes his neck and the kiss deepens, his tongue slipping in between your lips. It’s not until you having him moaning softly into your mouth that you disconnect from him and make your way to his ear. 

 “Thought about you too,” you tell him, “touched myself to the thought of you missing me; wrapping your hand around your cock with me on your mind.”

 Jeongguk’s fingertips dig into the fatty part of your ass, latches his lips onto the junctre between your neck and your shoulder. He sinks his teeth in just a touch to quiet his moan. 

 The whiny moise that you let out precedes the, “I fanatasized about the way you would fuck me when you came back to me–”

 “I wanted to, but I just felt so bad–���

 “Shh,” you hush him, “Doesn’t matter now…”

 You finally make to move your hips for real this time, but lifting them has you letting out a tiny hiss of pain that’s followed by a cute, airy laugh. “Almost forgot how big you are.”

 Jeongguk’s heart was just tugging inside his chest but now his cock is throbbing inside of you. Even as he wonders if there’s been anyone since him. 

 But once you get over that first hint of pain, past the initial sting of him stretching and filling you up, the only wonder is how Jeongguk survived without you for so long. 

 The light from your blinds peaks through your hair; wild and messy and draping over your shoulder. The long strands almost act as a curtain, hiding you and Jeongguk away. Spots of sunshine come through here and there, and they hit different parts of your body as your body becomes his body. On the tip of your nose, over the curve of your breast, the tops of your thighs. 

 And Jeongguk’s knows he is so fucking lucky. Not because he gets to have you like this –warmed by his touched and sunlight– but because he gets to have it again. Because he gets another chance at having you at all, after fucking it up once already.

 “Gguk,” you pant, “I feel so good right now.” 

 You’ve gone from bouncing on his cock, to griding on it, feeling his tip rub against the deepest parts of you. Your palms are flat on his lower tummy, and when he grabs your hips, helping you move back and forth on him, your nails dig into the muscle. 

 It makes him moan, quiet like the little sounds that you can’t stop making. 

 Jeongguk knows he was basically on the verge of tears just a second ago, but he is still a man and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Who’s making you feel so good baby?”

 He can tell how fucked out and how close you are because of how easily you answer him. How being stubborn and bratty doesn’t even seem to cross your mind when you moan, “You, it’s always you.” 

 Pulling you to his chest and fucking up into your cunt is much sweeter than it probably seems. He does so to be close to you, to feel your chest against his, to feel how your body shakes as you get closer, to feel how you bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your moans and cries.

 “Yeah–” you sob into his skin, “you’re gonna make me cum– please– please, can I cum?”

 Your words come out staccato and irregular, punched out one by one by his cock as he fucks you faster. But Jeongguk doen’t say anything yet, just focuses on the slick sounds your pussy is making everytime he bottoms out, on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of the slick, velvety heat, on how his fingers sink into your ass as he squeezes and tugs and pulls your cheeks apart to bury himself as deep as he can when he cums with you. 

 “Fuck, baby cum for me,” Jeongguk pants, his words a little rushed as he feels it all come to a head, “Cum all over my fucking cock while I cum in your pussy.”

 You don’t say anything when you cum, and neither does Jeongguk. Both cumming with nothing but gasps. Your’s sounding sweet, almost awed, as you just let your cunt squeeze and contract around Jeongguk’s cock, almost like you forgot you could cum that hard. Jeongguk’s are more guttural as his cock throbs, pulsing with each shot of cum he pumps into your pussy.

 ~~~

 “Your roommates are actually terrifying.”

 The voice makes you smile, laughing sleepily, eyes closed for just a moment longer before you turn your head to see a dishevelleddly dressed Jeongguk, holding a single glass of water in his hand. 

 He shrugs off his blazer that he’s wearing over his briefs (you’ve helped yourself to his button up), and sits next to where you’re laying down. He nudges you his foot till you sit up and take the water from him.

  It’s a content type of quiet while you both pass the glass back and forth, sharing. It only last for a minute or two before Jeongguk is clearing your throat.

 “So… what happened to your plant, hmm?”

 He must have seen the pitiful looking succulent in your living room when he went to get the water. And you know he’s just messing around and that he only said it to strike conversation and fill the silence, but still, it makes something ugly stir in your gut. 

 “You didn’t remind me,” you say, trying to literally shrug it off and give the topic a quick stop.

 But Jeongguk is giggling as he says back, “Oh, so it’s my fault?”

 “Everything is your fault.”

 It’s snappy and said with enough bitterness that Jeongguk is physically taken aback. But then he thinks and then he softens.

 “Hey,” he says gently.

 You look at him, eyes swirling with a mixture of anger and hurt. 

 Jeongguk brushes a little bit of your hair out of your face as he looks you over. “I know,” he acknowledges quietly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but I hope with some time, you’ll be able to see it.”

 You frown a little before giving him a sad small smile and you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. He turns into the touch and gives your palm a soft kiss.

 “I know you’re sorry,” you tell him, “I know you are and I forgive you –my head knows that but– my heart is still sad.”

 Something about how you say it reminds Jeongguk of how young you are. But not in the way it did before. Not like your youth is a burden, or a red flag. It just reminds him that he needs to be careful with you. 

 “I know, and that’s okay… I know it’s going to take time,” Jeongguk gives you a sad, yet understanding shrug.

 And for once, it’s a good thing that time does what time is meant to. It passes and it allows things to grow; for things to heal. 

 “Speaking of time,” you say, lightheartedly trying to change the subject, “How long do I have you?”

 “As long as you want me.”

 Jeongguk’s reply is met with the most underwhelmed, flat stare you have every given him. He snorts before he says, “Till tomorrow afternoon– I have to pick up Nari.”

 His heart feels like it’s going to explode in his chest when he sees how your eyes light up at the mention of his daughter, at how you jabber on with questions about her. How has she been?, Is she talking yet?, Does she still have that narwhal?

 There’s a chance that he might regret it, but there’s also a chance that he might not. 

 So he asks, “Do you want to come with me?” 

 ~~~ 

 However long Jeongguk said it takes to get to his ex-wife’s house, all those months ago, escapes you.

 But right now, it feels like 10 years and 10 minutes all at once. 

 It’s dramatic, yes, how terribly you’ve been fidgeting in the passenger seat of the Mercedes. Even Jeongguk’s big, warm hand petting at your knee can’t quell the nerves.

 It’s making the atmosphere tense, and you feel bad when Jeongguk sounds like he’s walking on eggshells when he tells you, “Thank you for coming with me, I’m really happy you did.”

 You feel even worse when you respond with, “I don’t think I want to go to the door with you.”

 The ever-soothing hand on your leg stutters for barely a second before continuing just as it was.

 “That’s totally fine,” he assures you, eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to, but if you change your mind, you can. It is your choice.”

 The hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly. 

 And it’s quiet for the rest of the drive. Until Jeongguk is pulling into an empty spot in the driveway of a very big, very nice house. Right next to a Porsche. 

 “Of fucking course.”

 “___.”

 “No, you’re right,” you say, raising your hands appeasingly, “You’re right, I shouldn’t even be surprised–”

 Jeongguk interrupts you with his hands on your cheeks and his lips on your. 

 “Shut.” He gives you one kiss. “Up.” He gives you two kiss.

 His affection makes the tension in your body dissipate and your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”

 With his thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks, he gives you a small, understanding, patient smile. Then he asks if you’re sure about not coming to the door with him because he is stupid. 

 You tell him as much as you reiterate how you do not want to go to the door and this time, Jeongguk is the one raising his hands in surrender as he exits the car.

 Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

 Should you get out of the car? Wait inside? Should you have brought Nari a gift? Will she remember you? What if she doesn’t?

 When you hear a distant, familiar baby-giggle, you end up opening the door and standing between Jeongguk’s car and Dasom’s. You feel a little dumb until you hear the pitter patter of little feet on the brick driveway. 

 “I have a surprise for you Nana,” you hear Jeongguk sing cutely.

 And you hear Nari gasp excitedly in response, even cuter.

 As the pair get closer, you can see Jeongguk’s top half over the car, how his arm is swinging back and forth because of the tiny hand that’s holding his where you can’t see.

 Nari is dressed in a black jumper dress with a long-sleeved heart-patterned shirt on underneath when she pops out from behind the car and next to her dad. Kept warm from the slight chill in the air by her knitted tights and her teeny-tiny ugg boots. She’s still round, but she’s gotten taller and you coo softly to yourself.

 But Nari hears the little noise you make and when she sees you, she stops in her tracks. Her little bobble head looking between you and Jeongguk. Then she’s tugging on her dad’s pinky that she’s got a hold of.

 “___!” she says as she nods towards you, like she’s letting Jeongguk know that you’re right there. She sounds sure, almost a little bossy. Doesn’t stutter even a second to remember you. Kind of like she never forgot you. 

 “Ah– what’s with the nodding missy?” Jeongguk tuts, then he looks at you and shakes his head exasperated yet amused. 

 Nari has the nerve to giggle, a big girl no longer brought to tears by her daddy’s scoldings. She looks up at him grinning before she shrugs, like she doesn’t know what got into her. As she raises her little shoulders, her free hand comes up too for emphasis. And gripped tightly in her little hand is her stuffed narwhal. 

 You’re happy.

~~~~~~~~~

aaaaand SCENE. omg heyyyy long time no see girlfriends <3 i hope that u think this was worth the wait but am debilitatingly scared that it did not meet ur expectations so i am hiding <3 im sorry for how long it took but it is here now n that is all my tiny hands have to offer!!  i would love to know what u thought, so please do al the things: reblog, like, comment, send an ask~~ thank u for waiting for me and for reading ily muah :*

[strniohoeee]

Matt with a GIRLY ASS GF, I’m talking feminine energy coquette, bows, pink, I want it ALL😫😫 I can’t the thought of Matt having masculine energy being protective over his gf, I know it’s not a request request more like an idea, you can go about however you’d like, but plssss

Dally

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: A short little imagine about Matt with a girly girl for a girlfriend🎀💞

Warning⚠️: None, honestly I’m not 100% what tf coquette is LOLL, or like being a girly girl, so I tried my best. It’s also super short because it was more of like a blur idea I had, but I hope you enjoy🥹

Song for the imagine: Primadonna- MARINA

Primadonna girl, yeah

All I ever wanted was the world

I can’t help that I need it all

Pink, bows, teddy bears, sparkles, more pink, more bows. I mean that was my whole lifestyle. I loved everything girly ever since I was a little girl.

Most of the time boys ran away when they would see my room. Scared at how girly and dainty it was. However when I showed Matt my room his eyes lit up.

To see this tattooed, rugid, dark person in my bright pink filled room made my heart flutter. I mean totally not his aesthetic, but somehow we worked together?

My room was full of pink and white, teddy bears, there were bows on everything, sparkles, dainty white curtains, light pink carpets. I mean it was like Paris Hilton threw up everywhere. To see Matt look at everything with a smile on his face. To watch him sit on my bed, his black outfit clashing against my bright room.

Matt was so adorable. I mean he’d let me do whatever I wanted with him, but would also turn around and snap someone’s neck for me. He was so overprotective of me, often giving men looks and comments if they ever tried to say anything to me.

But then that same night we’d be laying in my bed as I mindlessly tied bows in his hair to make us laugh. Laughing at how silly he looked as I laid a kiss on his lips while we giggled. And snapping pictures for instagram.

Matt loved buying me gifts, and making sure I sat at home looking pretty for him. I’d wake up to a new package almost everyday. Pink boots, a white shirt with bows, more bows for my hair, a new teddy bear for my collection, cardigans, makeup….I mean everything I ever wanted Matt got for me.

I sat at home primping myself for him as he was out there working to bring home money. I always felt bad, but it was something Matt insisted I do. He wanted me to sit still and look pretty for him.

He used to take me shopping, but the last time we went to the mall he almost got into a fight with some guy hitting on me. Honestly I was ignoring the guy, so I didn’t even know he was saying things to me.

Up until Matt moved me out the way and got in the guys face. I mean security had to step in. That was the last time we went out. Matt said “I can’t have my precious baby getting disrespected by random creeps”. I mean agree, but also I missed shopping

Because of this Matt gave me his card information, so anything I wanted I could just buy. I bought one thing, and I just didn’t like to buy stuff without asking.

However recently I’ve been very into coquette style, and Matt has no idea what that means, so he just tells me to swipe his cards and do as I please. I haven’t because I like to ask permission first.

I’ve been eyeing these shoes for a few weeks now, and they’re $250. Something Matt would say is nothing, but to me that’s so expensive. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them though. I had a tab open on them and stared at them for hours on end.

Finally one day I decided to text Matt

Matt🧸

-Hi babyyyyy :)

-Hi my precious baby!

-I have a question….

-what’s up?

-sooo there’s these coquette shoes I want, and I’ve been eyeing them for sooo long

-what is it with this coquette shit??

-IDKKK, but I love them. They’re the perfect coquette aesthetic

-Coquette this….coquette that…how about you coquette a job😀

-Matt…. That’s not funny😐

-I’m kidding, baby! Charge the Amex. How many times do I have to tell you? Get whatever you want!!

-Nooo I hate doing that. I like to ask permission before buying anything with your money😔

-baby I earn this money for you! I love seeing you in your outfits with your shoes. I love seeing you happy. So please get whatever you want!❤️

-okay baby. Thank you 🥹

-Of course my love💞🎀

Matt was the best thing to ever happen to me. I was able to be me because he loved me for me. And I’m sure he loved me for my pink lingerie sets I always had on deck for him….

The End

Y’all…..IDFK WHAT THIS IS OK😭😭 idk anything about a girly girl aesthetic or coquette, so I did what I could😔. However I hope you enjoyed🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥...• 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jude and the reader talking late at night because they barely got to talk during the day. They talk about the most random things, laughing at each other shitty jokes And stuff. Neither wants to hang up because they love to hear each other’s voice (they don’t confess they like each other just yet. I’m trying to make this a little series)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: none tbh

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is short. There will be more parts but I won't make it a long series. If you have ideas then lemme know

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 800+

I'll be working on my Jude Masterlist

✿﹕ ︵︵✧₊︵︵ꕤ₊˚︵ ૮꒰˵• ᵜ •˵꒱ა ﹕ɞ

The silence was loud in your room as you laid in your bed. Your eyes were glued on your phone sitting beside you, waiting for it to ring at any minute.

Almost every night you would get a call from Jude who is your best friend and has been since the age of 15. You both were miles and miles away from each other.

Ever since he left for Germany a few years ago, you were empty without his presence. He was one of the first people to ever treat you like a human in school. That’s what made you grow so attached to him.

You didn’t want Jude to be so far away from you, but you sucked it up and dealt with it. You knew his career was important and you were always going to support him and never get in his way. You were only his friend anyways.

You were sure you both were going to drift apart but to your surprise you both didn’t. Jude made it his mission to call you and text you when ever he could. He never let you believe you were forgotten in his mind.

The phone rung snapping you out of the daydream you were in. You wait a few seconds So it didn’t seem like you were sitting and waiting for his call before picking up.

“Hi Judy.”

“Hi love, how are you?” you heard the deep, relaxing voice ask you on the other side. You smile to yourself at the word love he always called you and relax into your bed.

“I’m good. Happy I can hear your voice.”

“Good.” You heard Jude chuckle on the other end of the phone. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the sound. You don’t know what was coming over you but he always made you feel like this.

Jude began to tell you about his day and you telling him about your own. That conversation between you both went on for a good hour before it switched to another.

“I miss you.” Jude said making your stomach flip. It’s been a couple of weeks since he last saw you. He came back to Birmingham for his birthday and of course you were there. You didn’t know it but you were the highlight of his visit home.

“I know. That’s why we’re talking.” You laugh. You shut your eyes and wait for Jude to speak.

“No, that’s not what I meant y/n. I mean I miss you. I miss having you here with me being my biggest cheerleader. I’m happy to be following my passion but I miss having you around like the old days.”

Your eyes open at his words you weren’t sure what to say right now but your heart was fluttering in your chest. “oh” you exhaled. “I miss that too.” You say softly into the phone.

“Anyways, no more sad stuff. Me and jobe were fighting about this earlier. Who would win in a fight a lion or a shark?”

You snorted. “Jude really?” “I’m serious. Jobe was thinking so hard about it but I don’t get it. Why would a shark and a lion be fighting?”

You laughed. “Yeah that’s a good point. Jobe always comes up with weird stuff to bicker about.”

Jude hums agreeing with you.

You look over at your nightstand looking at the time. It was currently 12am. Later than Jude should be awake.

“Jude, it’s late. We need to end this call.” It hurt saying that but you had to. “Y/n, it’s fine. We can keep talking.”

“Jude you have to train tomorrow. You need to sleep and I won’t argue with you.”

You heard Jude sigh on the other side. “fine but at least stay on the phone with me love.”

A small smile filled your face. “Ok, fine. Good night Judy.”

Jude said goodnight right back. You both feel into silence and before you knew it you had fall asleep. Jude on the other hand was still awake.

He was up thinking of a way to tell you how he really felt for you. It took him a while of being away from you to realize he loves you in a way that was more than platonic. being away made him come to his senses. You were the one he wanted more than anything in the world he just didn’t know how to tell you that.

“Y/n.” Jude whispers. When you don’t respond Jude exhales. “Good night love.”

[ghostytoad]

hey!! if you’re taking requests, i’d like to request the rottmnt boys falling for a fem! reader who’s basically like your stereotypical raph. she loves fighting, loves working out, loud asf, short-tempered, blunt, sarcastic, cursed with resting bitch face, all that jazz. but, once you get to know her, she’s actually really funny and sweet. NEVER afraid to speak her mind, so she may come across as rude or sassy at times, but she never really means to be. DEFINITELY has mild adhd and is on the autism spectrum. 🫶

Hfhdks yippe, my v first request!! tbh the boys can use a little extra chaos in their life so this was really fun to write abt. hopefully it's decent, i'm still v new to writing this kinda stuff!!

* Kiss with a Fist *

ROTTMNT Boys x Fem! Raph-esque reader who is secretly a sweet softie

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for an intimidating, snappy, but secretly sincere human.

Headcanons for: Raph, Donnie, Leo, & Mikey

Fem! Reader; Romantic; Fluff; Mild violence || Words: 4k

Feel free to send in more requests and prompts!!

Raph:

to be honest, raph was initially intimidated and wary of y/n when they first met

like sure, he's used to his brothers being a bit too curt and impulsive and april can come off as sassy and overbearing but none of that compares to the levels y/n is on

something about how forward she can be really puts the poor turtle on edge

until he starts getting to know her a little better, finding out more about her hobbies and all

after a period of initial surprise, he starts getting used to y/n's presence in the lair

she fits in almost naturally in their family dynamic; she's basically one of them now and he loves having someone around who shares his interests

plus he could always use a workout buddy; not that his brothers aren't good spotters but he could always use a break from their antics

will take y/n to every wrestling event & spend the entire time gushing about his newest wrestling idol and when they're not out and about beating up bad guys or playing video games, he will allow y/n to sit in and spot him while he powers through his rigorous workouts

he enjoys being able to swap workout tips and tricks with y/n; treats every little bit of advice she gives as divine wisdom & he will take it all to heart

he likes to brag to his brothers about how strong y/n is, especially considering that she can keep up with his mutant abilities; everything she does impresses him to no end

opened a jar of pickles without help? amazing

landed on her feet after a pretty high tumbling jump? absolutely incredible

being able to handle his occasional hugs? literally the best thing in the world to him

having y/n around motivates raph to train harder and push himself past his limits

unfortunately, this has led to a few injuries-

"uh oh. y/n ain't gonna be happy to hear about this..."

cue the scolding, the lectures, and the bedrest. y/n's orders. but raph secretly enjoys being doted on by y/n so he won't say no

it didn't take raph too long to realize his feelings for y/n

he'd been picking up on little hints here and there, but he'd talk himself out of that silly train of thought every single time

like when he'd catch her watching him train and could feel that rush of heat burn at his cheeks

'i've just been training too hard and it's way too hot in here'

and when he couldn't get y/n off his mind when she wasn't around?

'i'm just worried about her is all. who knows what kinda trouble her loud mouth might get her in-'

but it was when y/n was comforting raph after a bust mission one particular night that really did him in and confirmed his feelings

It's bad enough when the brothers fail in their latest mission, but to get their butts handed to them by Hypno of all villains? Eesh, talk about major humiliation stink. The loss had them all silently slinking back into their lair, hoping to sleep off the defeat at the hands of their unimpressive foe. Raph was just about to make his way into his room to mop when he spotted Y/N waiting up for them in the lair's living room. It was upon seeing her sitting there with an unreadable, stern expression that a realization hit him. They had plans later.

"Hey, sorry, YN. No Brunch 'n Punch tonight. Raph's a lil' tired..." his low and gruff voice did little to hide the timid air in his tone. "I-I'll make it up to ya though! Promise!"

Despite his stuttered attempt to console Y/N and her anticipated disappointment, his tired expression and wilted posture gave away just how exhausted and downtrodden the towering mutant was. It was more than enough to tell Y/N a few things:

Raph had another rough day.

Raph once again pushed himself and got hurt.

And Raph needed someone to help carry that weight.

Before he could continue his defeated shuffle past Y/N, he felt a sudden tug on the lip of his rugged shell. Not even a second after, he felt his torso being enveloped by the subtle warmth of what could only be a person. Was Y/N hugging him...? Looking down from his stunned silence, he found Y/N with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, face hidden by the jutting ridges of his plastron. Unable to find the words to break the tense silence surrounding them, Raph simply lets out a low chuckle as his hand gently caresses the back of Y/N's head.

"If this is about me bailing on our plans, Raph gets it. You probably hate m-"

"What am I gonna do with you, Raph...? What am I going to do if you won't take care of yourself..." Y/N's voice was unusually small.

"Say what?" The mutant didn't know what to make of the wavering tone in Y/N's voice. Was she mad? Was she worried? It was unlike Y/N to be this... vulnerable.

After a few more moments of silence, Raphael broke out of his confusion with a realization. Y/N was still holding him. The exhaustion and shame began lifting its shrouding curse off of him as his body eased into the comforting embrace. So warm. So gentle. So caring. Everything about Y/N was perfect, even the parts of her personality that she chose to share only with him. It was then that another, more pressing realization came to his mind.

Damn, does this boy got it bad. He's in love.

Donnie

he's entirely put off by y/n's whole demeanor and keeps his distance at first; like raph on his own can be a headache to deal with, but now there's two of them??

he won't outright avoid her, he just prefers quieter company

he can't exactly say they share many similar interests, but y/n's newfound spot as a member of his little family gives him incentive to at least try finding some common ground to bond over

so when it comes to the more physical and brawn-heavy aspect of his work, he can truly appreciate y/n's constant presence

god knows he can't trust his brothers to be careful or attentive enough to help him in the lab and april isn't always around to enthusiastically offer her assisstance when needed... but y/n just happens to be the perfect solution to his otherwise frustrating problem

dare he say it: "she's reliable and more importantly always happy to lend a hand"

and donnie really values the way y/n is willing to listen to him drone on about his latest projects and mapping out his complex thought process; all with very little complaint (a huge plus for him!)

in fact, she even seems eager to learn and is quick to pick up on the nuances of his work. he can also understand/empathize with y/n's misunderstood demeanor when it comes to her stone faced expression ('or resting bitch face, as she so eloquently put it')

donnie's never been good at expressing himself; he knows how vexing it can be when everyone seems intent on misreading one's emotions based on something as fickle as facial expression

and the more time donnie spends with y/n, the more he's able to observe her and her subtle mannerisms

it's gotten to the point where he can pick up on her subtle cues and accurately read her mood better than anyone else. to his brothers, it's as if y/n and donnie share a telepathic connection with how easily they can communicate with a simple glance

it doesn't take long for him to get used to y/n's more rambunctious and wild behaviors; when he's not busy working, he will sometimes invite her on their less eventful missions and adventures

he won't say it out loud, but he's really come to respect y/n's combat prowess and her ability to hold her own

admires it even... one might even say he lov-

'nope. no. nein. not the l-word...'

donnie's always quick to catch himself before he can finish off that thought but he can't help himself; cute and mean are just his type after all

whether or not he chooses to pursue those feelings though....

well, let's just say y/n really didn't leave him a choice after she practically saved his life during one fairly unexpected encounter

It hadn't been a hard mission. The Hamato brothers had successfully thwarted another run-of-the-mill robbery at the appropriately named Run of the Mill Pizzeria. Relishing in their triumph, the four turtles, joined by their newest companion Y/N, decided to make a night of it and order a few celebratory 'zzas. It was as Donnie was making his way to the booth that he was halted by the stumbling grip of an iebriated yokai yanking him back by his shoulder. The patron's swaying form crumpled forward as they tried supporting their full weight on the hand that was still firmly locked on Donnie's shoulder.

"'Ey you.... I know you..." the strong stench of alcohol burned at the turtle's nostrils as he furrowed his brow in confusion, "Yer the guy from that brawl last night. Ya dropped my drink!"

Ah. Mistaken identity. Before Donnie could correct them, the yokai straightened in a menacing stance, lifting their hand's grip from him and balling into a fist.

"You... YOU! You owe me a new drink AND a new shirt! Ya ruined MY GOOD SHIRT!"

Ever the smug one, Donnie simply shook his head and with condescension dripped from his lazy grin.

"Perhaps laying off on the booze might help to improve your memory. You're clearly looking for a fight and I'm not one to hold back in battle." With a wave of his hand, he feigned a dramatic sigh, "But I'd reconsider what would be one too many bar fights. I mean, you've obviously done your brain enough damage."

What followed was the unmistakable and resounding thud of a body hitting the restaurant walls. The remaining brothers watched amusedly from their booth as the purple-coded brother peeled from the newly dented wall and collapsed onto the floor, dumbfounded and only mildly in pain.

"He'll be fine~" Leo mused as he caught sight of Y/N's horrified expression.

"He was kinda askin' for it..." Raph shrugged, unwilling to stop Y/N who was now stomping a warpath from the booth to the drunken offender.

"HEY, ASSHOLE!" were the only words uttered before Y/N's flurry of furious punches unleashed themselves onto the yokai's face. Donnie watched fondly as Y/N's strike after strike seemed to reduce the belligerent patron to a pathetic and unintelligable mess on the floor.

Something about her pose, the way her bruised fists were held up in triumphant victory as she loomed over the monster's unconscious form, seemed to pull at the deepest, darkest parts of the turtle's heart. Was she always this badass and cool? Was it the lighting? Was it the concussion setting in? Has she always looked this cute?

"Wow... You're incredible....." Donnie muttered under his breath with awe.

So much for science being his only love.

Leo:

honestly? the more chaos, the better

raph is great and all, but he always had the annoying tendency to boss everyone around, and his ever-growing worry chasm was really starting to irk leo

so it's great to have someone around that isn't always on his case about his stunts or lecture him on dull things like responsibility and duty and all

while he does take into account the fact that Y/N is a human, she's a special human with special priviliges in his mind; meaning open invites to every mission (no matter how dangerous) and her own front row seat to every single convoluted plan leo's made

he's always there to actively enable her loud habits, he just lives for the banter and drama; he calls it his very own telenovela

obviously he'd never let her get too far into it and when things start getting a little too real, he will try getting y/n to tone down the snark and deescalate the situation

can't have his new bestie getting herself into trouble after all! and he'd never hear the end of it from his brothers if she ever got hurt bc of his encouragement

as boring as he finds training to be, having y/n around really helps to spice things up. he's always calling dibs on having her for sparring partner duties and won't hold back much

on the rare occasion that he's not getting into trouble and causing mischief with y/n, he'll show her around all the best stargazing spots new york has to offer (via portal ofc)

no reason in particular, it's just nice getting to see the stars past the haze of the city's light pollution and it seems like something friends do

'it's totally normal for friends to stargaze alone together, right?'

yeah, no he's sure of it. he just really happens to enjoy y/n's company without the constant interruption of his brothers' teasing

it's not like he's asked her to go with him on a magic carpet ride or anything

oh wait...

right, there was that one time when they decided to stop by the mystic city antiques shop and try out the dubiously named "magic carpet" the shop was selling. how was he supposed to know it was a flying magic carpet?? magic could literally mean anything!

he didn't complain when y/n would hold onto him as they weaved through the skies of the hidden city. and it was cute watching her face scrunch up with laughter every time he made a joke

but that's just friends being friends, right??

'this better not be what being wrong feels like because it's not a great feeling at all'

"Alright, Leo. This'd better be good for you to be calling me up at 3 in the morning." April's voice hissed through the call, still rough with sleep and irritation as Leo had called her up on a school night of all times.

Leo gripped tightly at the phone as if it were his only line of defense from the terrible, terrible ordeal he was about to confide. "Apes, you gotta help me! I think I might be losing my edge or something."

"Your... what?"

"My edge!" Leo reiterated, panic set in his tone, "My mojo! The Leo-factor! I think I might be losing it and I don't know how to get it back!"

A few moments of soft shuffling sounding from the phone's receiver met Leo's frantic explanation. April must've been slowly forcing herself to sit up from where she'd been sleeping peacefully only minutes ago.

"... don't 've time for this..." was all that could be deciphered between shuffles.

The disgruntled girl could only sigh, "Okay. Leo. What makes you think you've 'lost your mojo'?"

Leo paused in thought, humming low as he tried to recall his recent mojo-related blunders.

"Okay, okay, so! You know how Y/N's been hanging around the lair a lot more lately? It's like every time she's there, I get thrown off my game. And I mean, I really get thrown off! With everything!"

"Mhm?" April deadpanned.

"None of my one-liners seem to land with her and it's because I keep forgetting how to talk mid-sentence! So I end up sounding like some stuttering moron! And I keep running into things and tripping over my own feet when I see her like I'm the clumsiest chump alive. And just the other night I was out testing the sickest tricks on Mikey's new board- don't let him know that by the way- when she shows up outta nowhere with her smug little smile and throws me off my moves! I mean, all I see is her eyes on me and the next thing I know, I've got a mouthful of gravel and concrete. It's like she's sapping all the cool out of me and I need it to stop like yesterday!" Leo had to take a moment to catch his breath as he explained his troubling situation, clearly unaware of just how clueless he was. April could only wait silently for the information to sink in, a sleepy scowl painted on her face. God, she could just strangle the boy if he were here.

"So you're telling me that you called me up in the middle of the night to tell me that you have a crush?" she hissed once again, the gritting of her teeth audible.

"A what? Crush? Oho, no no no no." the mutant scoffed in disbelief, "I'm telling you that Y/N could be a witch or some kind of energy vampire or something and we-"

"Leo, let me ask you something. What's more likely: The fact that Y/N is a mojo-sucking vampire witch or the fact that you may have some feelings for her?"

The thought hadn't really occured to him before. Could it really be something as simple as a crush that's doing him in? He had been feeling a little different as of late... But he just assumed it was all from the mutant witch powers Y/N might've been using on him. He took a few moments to contemplate, a dark blush gradually forming across his face the more he thought of Y/N.

Well, what's not to like about her? She's a certified badass, she's cool, she's never afraid to give it to ya straight. And underneath that tough exterior was an equally cool but much softer version that balanced out Leo's more impulsive and emotional side. Could it really be that Leo had feelings for Y/N?

".... Do you think Donnie can run a few tests to find out what kind of witch she is?"

"I'm hanging up now, Leo."

"NO, WAIT, I-" Dial tone.

Crush it is then. Man, did he hate being wrong.

Mikey:

ever the eternal optimist, mikey is never one to judge people and gives them every benefit of the doubt until he's forced to believe otherwise

so when he first meets y/n, he takes to her standoffish nature like bees on honey

instant besties right off the bat, even if they have their differences

he's quick to introduce y/n to everything mutant turtle life has to offer, whether it be inviting her over for a few rides on the half-pipe or introducing her to the cinematic magic that is jupiter jim and its many sequels

no matter what they do, he's always there to make sure she's having fun

mikey picks up on y/n's kinder side pretty quickly too

being emotionally intuitive and a self-proclaimed therapist, he is able to see through y/n's more abrasive personality and finds her gentler side to be just as exciting and fun, if not incredibly endearing

he'll even encourage her to be more open with that part of herself by insisting she join him in his little Dr. Feelings sessions he regularly holds for his brothers (totally not against their will)

during the whole session, he'll check in on y/n and ask if she has any thoughts on the matter

"what about you, y/n? you've been around us long enough to get a say. am i right or am i totally right?"

he knows he can trust her more blunt and forward nature to lay it down as it is

but he can also trust that she won't say anything to hurt them just for the sake of it

so she's a perfect fit for the role of Nurse Candid/Assisstant Tough Love

funny thing is, Dr. Feelings can't really talk mikey out of making a fool of himself in front of y/n

he tries not to be too clingy or push too many boundaries, but how can he resist?

she's like the highlight of his little adventures and he genuinely enjoys having her around all the time that he just *needs* to understand every part of what makes y/n her

together, they'd make the ultimate power couple!

er... power couple business-wise

purely professional in this unofficial practice

'unless.....'

time for the Love Doctor to pay mikey a little visit

"Candles? Check. Fancy silverware? Check. A deliciously decadent three course meal prepared by your truly? Check." Mikey took a moment to look over his fine work as he finished setting up a "platonic-but-can-be-romantic" dinner for Y/N. He'd been hard at work all week trying to come up with the perfect excuse to invite Y/N to the lair alone. It wasn't a date or anything! Well really, that was the trouble with this whole thing. It had to strike the right balance of friendly and intimate. With a hint of romance drizzled in. And a sprinkle of platonic fun. Gah, what a confusing mix.

Sighing thoughtfully, the young turtle set down the two artistically prepared culinary plates on the now satin-draped dining table that sat in the center of the projection room. Sure, it might've been a bit cliche but the quiet ambiance of the room was the best choice for a romantic candlelit dinner. Plus if the whole romance angle didn't pan out the way Mikey had hoped, a movie marathon would surely break the tension and shift gears into friendly hangout mode. Everything about this night had been planned to a T, down to the fact that his brothers were busy on another patrol that was sure to take all night.

The orange-clad mutant gave the setup another quick once over and, satisfied with his creation, glanced up at the clock that sat above the projector screen.

"7:18 and I still got a few precious moments to spare!"

"Spare for what?" a muffled voice asked from the door.

Oh no. What were they doing here?!

"Hey hey, little brother~ Nice setup you got goin' here. Very élégante~" Leo teased with his mouth full of pizza.

"L-LEO?! I THOUGHT YOU GUYS SAID YOU WERE GONNA BE OUT UNTIL MORNING!"

"Uh, yeah? The patrol was supposed to keep us 'til morning." Leo shrugged nonchalantly as he licked pizza sauce from his fingers,"But as it turns out, Donnie isn't the math wizard he seems to think he is."

"SCOFF! My mathematical genius is not to be held accountable for YOUR poor planning!" From behind Leo, Donnie stormed in with an incredulous look as pizza sauce drenched his face and upper body.

"Look, if anything, MY PLAN did not call for explosives. That was all you, buddy!" The twin retorted, poking at Donnie's sauce-covered chest with his trusty odachi. Mikey could feel his right eye twitching as he watched the two bicker and consequently ruin his plans.

He seethed through gritted teeth, "You guys were supposed to be gone..."

The strained response brought the two brothers' attention back to their youngest sibling, both raising a brow in question.

"Oh yeah, what IS with this setup?" Leo's cocky smirk did little to hide the teasing behind his question. Did he know?

"Oi, guys! We still gotta clea-" Raph stumbled in, wiping his body down with a red soaked towel as he was presumably the most sauced up of the three. "Woah. Whatcha got going on in here, Mikey?"

Great. Just what he needed. As he did his best to keep his composure, all Michael could do was groan and slump down to his knees, withering with embarrassment before his brothers. "If you guys MUST KNOW, I had a very special night planned for me! I was gonna have a nice dinner with Y/N before you came back and messed with m-"

"Woah woah woah, are you telling me that my baby hermano has a date tonight?"

The heat suddenly rushed to Mikey's cheeks, taunting him and exposing his true motives to his brothers of all people. Raph and Leo compounded that humiliation with their slew of 'aww's and coos. Donnie simply gave his little brother an approving nod and thumbs up as the duo's teasing continued.

"I-It's not what it looks like, I swear!"

Oh, it absolutely was.

"It's not that I like her, I just-"

Want her to be mine.

"I just needed to figure out how I feel!"

But he already knew. He was hopelessly in love.

[pastel-peach-writes]

i absolutely adore your caitvi fanfics! do you by any chance can do cuddle headcannons with the two? thank you in advance : D

hi! thank you sm! here's your request!

Marshmallow Pillows | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of cuddles with CaitVi.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Needs A Part Two, Fluff, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– ohhh my goodness

– one, cuddling with them is like, the best thing ever???

– obviously we knew that, but come on

– at the beginning of your relationship, cuddling is a little awkward.

– none of you have been in a throuple before and with the different heights, you didn't know which cuddle positions were best

– additionally, vi hasn't had physical touch in so long.

– she almost forgot what it felt like

– though she craved physical intimacy, she was almost afraid of it.

– now now, hear me out. I know vi hugs and clings to cait all the time, but to her, that was the light stuff. it wasn't anything serious

– now that it was serious, real, and not something her delusions made up, she was scared.,

– she didn't know how you'd two react to her rough hands or her bulky muscles. some people didn't like the feel or touch of them!

– you two reassured her otherwise and told her she could take her time and go as slow as she wanted when it came to cuddles.

– it took her three short cuddle sessions and all of a sudden, she's attached to yall by the hip.

– caitlyn was more open about cuddling

– naturally, she thought of herself to be the big spoon

– but just because she was taller than average, didn't mean she couldn't be held either!

– you and vi make it known that you want to pamper her and hold her

– sometimes even baby her and watch as her cheeks turn red and she has nowhere to hide.

– it's literally the cutest thing ever and sometimes, she giggles!!

– sounds like heaven on earth if you ask me

– as for yourself, if you're not a touchy person, they let you know you can take all the time you need and to let them know when you're not comfortable

– if you are a touchy person, they're sure to reassure you with touch in moments where you couldn't cuddle

– okay but enough backstory! let's get to the good stuff.

– caitlyn has long legs and she uses them.

– like a fucking koala, she wraps her legs around you both and squeezes tight on whomever she's holding

– she likes to snuggle her face into you two and often times than not, a relaxed, almost comedic, sigh escapes her lips.

– whenever you two can pull her away from working late and force her to lay down, she's the first one out

– you like to move the hair out of her face while vi whispers praises about her

– "she's so angelic like this." "she looks like a baby" "would it be wrong to draw an ass on her cheek right now?"

– violet.... seriously.

– when caitlyn goes to bed, she often wakes up moments later beciae of stress, so you and vi quietly chatter until she falls back asleep the second time.

– so a night of cuddling goes, caitlyn falls asleep, you and vi talk, cait wakes and falls asleep again, then you fall asleep, and once vi makes sure you're both secure and deep in your sleep, she'll fall asleep

– she has this thing where she has to fall asleep last.

– she doesn't care if you're out late or up late working, she isn't falling asleep

– well, unless you make her but even then that's rare

– if something happens to you two while she's asleep and you're not, she feels like that's on her.

– it's her responsibility to protect you guys, even if you don't need it.

– speaking of vi though, she has some sleeping and cuddling habits of her own

– like if you three fall asleep cuddling, you'll wake up to vi sleeping on her side alone.

– and it's never anything personal. her body literally shifts to her side every time.

– she can't stop it and she doesn't know what causes it

– vi prefers to be holding at least one of you, but doesn't mind being the little spoon in super. special. occasions.

– like if she's sad or really had a rough day.

– ngl though, she absolutely loves it when she's in the middle and you two are clinging onto her from either side.

– it makes her feel warm, safe, and she's reminded that she doesn't have to be the protective one all the time.

– another thing about vi is that she'll tell you about her day if it helps you fall asleep.

– the same with caitlyn!

– their voices are so soothing and relaxing.

– have you heard vi's soft voice?

– have you heard caitlyn's soft voice?!

– hellooooo. they should be making asmr videos.

– ...

– i digress.

– when they tell you stories, they'll stroke their fingers along your back, play with your hair or bonnet, massage your shoulders, and they'll even run their hands along your thighs

– stopping this right here because i don’t know how else to progress, but i have a lot of ideas so i’ll might make a part two!

[bestpigeon]

Any chance we can get a Lucifer x platonic sinner reader who sees the king of hell as a father figure? Perhaps reader was like Lucifer’s personal guard/assistant who arrived in hell over a century ago, and has been loyal to the Morningstar family, over the years seeing him less as his king but as a father? And during Lucifer’s mega depression time, always gave his best to cheer him up. Reader never admits it, as he feels he must know his place, and not overstep, but Lucifer starts to view reader as family too.

This is an amazing idea omg, thank you sm! Also, I did see your other request, this will be x platonic male!

-------------------------------------------------------

-A NEW FATHER-

Lucifer x platonic male sinner

Warnings - none?

Words - 1.2k

___________________________________________

___________________________________________

I have been working for King Lucifer for a long time. Around a centry to be exact, so a long time. Im simply just a worker. I pass on messages and help Lucifer when he needs. Kind of like a personal assistant. When i first fell upon hell, i landed in a pickle. I landed and crushed, two out of multiple imps. They weren't pleased and started attacking me, Lucifer was quick to the rescue. I've been working with him every since.

Lucifer had just received a call from his daughter, Charlie, and is currently walking around his room rapidly. He's stressed, worried, excited, and clearly overwhealmed.

"Charlie wants to see me! but what if i mess up? oohh no, i can't. i have to impress her-" He says. He was basically talking to himself. i walk towards him in an attempt to comfort him.

"Sir? There's nothing to worry about, i can assure you, everything will be fine." I say as a hand moved to his shoulder. He sighs and stands sationary, finally. I smile at him, and he just rubs his forehead.

"Yeah - yeah, just dont want to embarrass myself, yknow?" He says, i think for a while before opening my mouth to speak, but i get quickly interrupted.

"ooh! what if you join me? Im sure Charlie would want to meet you, and you always help me calm down." He says as he moves to put both his hands on my shoudlers and pulls me down to his height. I didn't really mind the idea, but i didn't want to be a burden.

"i mean, sure? But i wouldn't want to get in the way-" I say before he shakes me rapidly.

"It'll be fine! Go get your stuff, " He says as he walks out the corridor and into his bedroom.

"My daughter wants to see meee!" He says as he dissapeares into his room. I smile and leave to go pack. I couldn't help but feel excited. i mean, I've always wanted to meet Charlie, and it's like a free vacation! Me and Lucifer have been close for a while now, so him picking me to come with him is understandable.

I pack my stuff and me and Lucifer leave together. He opens a portal and knocks on the front door to a hotel. I've heard Lucifer talk about this place a lot. He breags all the time that his own child runs it, and he's proud of her. I couldn't help but appreciate his passion and love for Charlie. I've never really had any type of parental figure, or at least we dont talk to me anymore. I dont even know where they are. they could be in heaven. Either way, i can't help but feel attached to Lucifer. Almost like he's replacing my father. He treats me with care, and i just can't help but feel like he's more than my boss, a father almost.

Of course, I'd never tell him that.

The door opens, and Lucifer walks in. He automatically hugs Charlie and looks around. I step in quietly and just observe. I make eye contact with Charlie, and i smile. I turn to her while Lucifer is on the ground talking to a cat.

"Hi, Lucifers told me lots about you Charlie, its nice to meet you." I say as i extened my hand out for a hand shake. She smiles widley and grabs my hand, and rapidly shakes it.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you!" She says with a big smile smothered on her face. It gets interrupted by Lucifer standing between us, putting a hand on each of our shoulders. He smiles widley at us. This trip is going to be fun.

-3 days later-

It's me and Lucfiers' third day staying in Charlies hotel. It's been quite pleasent so far. Appart from the Lucifer and Alastor tension. Me and Charlie have been hanging out a lot too, talking, walking, laughing. I enjoy being around Charlie, shes lovley, probably too nice to be hell, but i probably shouldn't judge a book by its cover. We are currently chatting in her office, mainly getting to know each other and sometimes throwing in a bit about how lucifers been.

"So, my dad saved you, and you've worked with him ever since? wow, you're really loyal." She says as she leans on her elbows on her desk. I smile at her and nod.

"Yeah, he treats me like a friend." I say, Charlie nods and sighs.

"Thank you for taking care of my father.. and are you sure you just see Lucifer as a friend?" She says as she tilts her head while keeping eye contact with me. I sigh and look down at the floor.

"Um, well.. i mean, he's like family to me? a father, maybe." I say. Charlies expression softens, and she smiles.

"That's okay! I mean, you being my brother sounds nice. Why dont you tell him? You're basically family to him anyway. He normally isolates himself." She says as she leans forward. We keep eye contact for a while before i smile and then nod.

"That.. dosent sound bad. I dont think he sees me as a son, though, so can we keep this a secret for now?" I say as i stand up. It was quite late and i needed some sleep. It's been a long day.

"Yeah, of course! Go get some sleep, todays been exahasting." She says as she waves at me. I smile and wave back before leaving and shutting the door. I get jumpscared but Lucifer, who appears around the corner.

"Hey! You and Char-Char seem to be getting along!" He says as he approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I smile at him softly. He really is the best father figure i could ever ask for.

"Yeah, we have. Were good friends." I say. Lucifer smiles at me. He yawns, and i chuckle at him. I could see the eye bags under his eyes.

"That's great, and I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight, kiddo!" He says as he walks away.

"Night d- Lucifer." I say, quickly correcting myself as i go towards my room.

-Next morning-

I awake and walk out of my room. I walk into the lobby and grab water from the fridge. I see Lucifer and Charlie chatting on the sofa. I make eye contact with Lucifer, and in unison, we smile. "Morning," He says.

"morning dad" I say as i drink the rest of my drink. I didn't even notice what i said. Lucifers eye widened, and he said something to Charlie before approaching me.

"you- why did you call me dad? do you see me as a father?" He says as he taps my shoulder. I panic as i realise what i said. We just stare at each other in silence before i finally speak.

"uh- yeah..i didn't mean to, i didn't want to make you uncomfort-" I say before i get interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug. I gasp, and my eyes widen slightly. I look at Charlie, and she gives me a thumbs up.

"It's fine! You're like a kid to me, my kid! I dont mind, " He says as i hug him back. I smile and chuckle. What a father figure i have, huh?

Charlie approaches me and joins in with the hug.

"I've always wanted a sibling! And a brother, now i have both, how exciting!" She says with a smile. I chuckle, and so does Lucifer.

"And I've always wanted a son,"

___________________________________________

Thank you for the recommendation! This was a good one.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Coming To An Understanding #2

Previous

“You got any plans for Saturday?” you ask, digging in your bag for your phone to show Melissa the lunch menu for the new place you’d found online.

“I got a thing,” comes the snapped reply.

You frown, not used to this sort of reply from her.  “Okaaay…like an all day thing or..?”

“Just a thing, okay?” she says without looking at you.

You shrug, not willing to fight over nothing.  “Fine.  You mind if I invite Jacob over to mine and we watch the Mandalorian then?”

“Do what you want,” she says making a vague gesture with her hands, still refusing to look at you. 

Pulling out your phone, you leave the tab for the restaurant open, but instead open up your messages, doing your best to distract yourself from the red head’s snippy mood.  Part of you wants to press further and ask what’s got her being so short with you, but you quickly decide whatever it is, you don’t need to pry.  If she has a thing she wants to keep private, then that’s up to her.  If she wants to tell you, she’ll tell you, but until then there’s always that level of Match 3D on your phone you could never get past. 

*

In bed that night at your apartment, you still haven’t got past that damn level of Match 3D and at this point, you’re starting to doubt you ever will.  To stop yourself throwing your phone across the room you’d swapped your phone for your book, letting yourself get lost in another world for a while.

You’re so engrossed that you almost miss Melissa setting down her own phone with a sigh.

“I’m going to the hair salon on Saturday,” she says quietly.  “Getting a few touch ups.”

Looking up at her, you smile.  “Okay.  You want me to meet you after?  Or we could maybe do breakfast beforehand if your appointment isn’t too early?”

She just looks at you, as though waiting for something.

“What?  You want me to be shocked?” you ask, putting down your book and turning to look at her properly.  “I know the rug doesn’t match the drapes, Lissa.”

At this, she rolls her eyes, letting out a huff.

“Are you getting something different done?”

“No,” she answers quickly.  Almost too quickly.  “Just touch ups,” she adds rather defensively, before looking away, fiddling with the blankets.  “Why, would you prefer I changed it?”

“Melissa, you know I’d love you no matter what colour your hair was, right?” you ask, waiting until she meets your eyes before continuing.  “I mean, do I think the red is hot?  Yeah.  But it’s hot because it’s on you.  If you wanted to go blonde, brunette, hell green, it wouldn’t change anything.  I want you to do what you want.”

She looks thoughtful for a moment.  “Even if I didn’t dye it at all?”

That’s when you see it; the hesitation, the worry.  “Have you seen Paget Brewster lately?” you joke, knowing she’d made fun of your reaction to the new look a certain Emily Prentiss was sporting.  “I think you’d rock whatever look you decided to go for.  And I’d love you all the same.”

You look down as you feel her toy with one of your rings.  “Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

She lets out a sigh.  “I know you know how old I am, but I just…well it just felt easier to keep that kinda stuff behind the scenes.”

“Stay here,” you tell her, clambering out of bed and heading for the bathroom.  Grabbing the couple of boxes of hair dye from under the sink, you sit on the edge of the bed.  “You think mine is natural?  I pick whatever colour is on sale and takes my fancy that day.”

“Well, there ain’t exactly much down there to compare it to,” she smirks.  “Wait, you don’t even use the same colour?”

You can’t help but laugh.  “Like you’ve never noticed it’s been about twenty different shades, none of them exactly natural, since we met?”  You gather up the boxes of hair dye, moving to return them to the bathroom.  “You can even pick the colour next time if you want.  Though full disclosure, I’m working on a totally natural Cruella De Ville stripe and when that comes in properly it’s getting left well alone.”

You hear her chuckle from the bathroom and when you return to bed, she’s put her phone away and has already turned off the bedside light.  She opens her arms to you, letting you cuddle in close.

“Sorry I was snarky earlier,” she says softly in the darkness.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you reply.  “Thank you for telling me though.”

“Thank you for putting up with me,” she says finally after a long pause.

Pressing a kiss to the closest patch of skin you can find, you tighten the arm around her waist.  “You got the rough end of that deal being landed with me,” you say, smiling as you feel her press a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Next

[shanesbluechicken]

Taking Sam to the mines

Shane

TW: none

Buckle up, because this is going to be quite a ride

In my opinion, he is probably going to do great, but only after a while. The poor man has to get used to the monsters first, because WTF NO ONE TOLD HIM THERE IS STUFF ATTACKING YOU DOWN IN THE MINES

Farmer: Why do you think I always bring a sword with me then?

Sam: To feel cool?!

Insists on accompanying you as soon as you tell him about this, because now he can't let you go by yourself at all. Sam is simply too worried to just sit around and wait for your return. That also means that you can't go to the mines when he's at work and such.

You tried going once without him and it was the last time. It's not like he started a fight with you, but he was so incredibly upset that your heart ached from merely looking at him.

Now as I said the beginning is quite rough, since he didn't even know there are any monsters in general. So nothing could have really prepared him for what he's going to go up against, even tho you did your best to do so.

The first couple times you have to interfere with the pickaxe. Sam isn't sure if you killing these horrible looking creatures is hot or terrifying. (Both, both is good.)

But to your surprise he learns super quick! And I mean in the speed of light. It's as if he just switched up his entire fighting style over night. Had an entire arc going on while you were asleep smh.

You notice that his footing is completely different and his stance looks more confident. That precious boy is COMMITTED on keeping you safe.

Not only is he an amazing mining partner, but also great company. His jokes and big smile make the mines seem less dark and lonely. Just now you realize how isolated you actually felt whenever you came down here by yourself.

The two of you tried hard to keep this a secret from Jodi, but she found out eventually and was anything but happy about it. You couldn't blame her trying to talk Sam out of it and you didn't stop her once, but it became obvious to her pretty quick that her son doesn't plan on backing down.

Vincent on the other hand was absolutely thrilled when he first heard about it. He and Jas literally track you down to ask if they can join so you and Sam have to regularly sneak around town to avoid them. Your giggles almost always blow your cover.

Masterlist

[siyooungi]

HAII i love ur works sm THEYRE HONESTLY WELL WRITTEN. NO THWYRE A MASTERPIECE i always smiliny n shi everytime i read em🤭

i act have a request!! can you please write a idol!huh yunjin x yn. theyve been in a relationship for almost a year. ANDD yn is a shy person,she rarely talk cause shes insecure w her voice and the way she pronounce stuff(she has lisp? she can’t properly pronounce the letter S” so means yunjin rarely heard her voice.

yunjin did try to convince her multiple time that yn voice is the most beautiful sound in this world,its like a lullaby to yunjin.

THEN on their first anniversary,yn decided to suprise yunjin. yunjin woke up to a singing vd by yn HSJSHSHS OMG the vd is like this https://youtu.be/V-1vBrlD0Bc (lets pretend thats yn???!3!3!3)) YEAH so maybe you can come up w rhe ending cause i act dont have any idea for that hehe. THATS ALL FROM ME THANK YOU SO MUCH MY BRO ILOVE U SM (you dont have to do the request if youre busy<3 it just at thought from my brain hehe)

A/N: Awww, thank you so much!! That really means a lot. Although the video was unavailable, I can only imagine how amazing it sounded. I really hope you like this then!!

Pairing: Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Idol: Huh Yunjin (Le Sserafim)

Warning(s): None!

Yunjin is someone you’d consider your greatest supporter and hype-woman, as there was not a single day that passed where she wasn’t treating you like you were a prized possession. She loved everything about you, everything, from all of your little mannerisms to the beauty you possessed. On top of that, she made you the happiest girl in the world. Some might even consider her the ideal lover, a role that suits her entirely.

You, however, despite all of the never-ending praise and love she showered you with, were burdened by a deep insecurity that prevented you from fully expressing yourself. You dealt with a lisp, which made it difficult for you to pronounce the letter 's,' becoming a source of self-doubt and unease.

Yunjin, being the loving and supportive girlfriend that she was, had repeatedly reassured you that your voice was a treasure, a melody that resonated deeply within her heart. She cherished every hum and shake of the head that you used as substitutes for words. Hell, she even got excited when you spoke a few words. It was all she would typically get when you spoke to her. Despite Yunjin’s best efforts, you remained hesitant and continued to limit your speech, unable to believe in your own voice's beauty.

As your first anniversary approached, you did your best to overcome your fear and surprise Yunjin with something you’d hope she’d feel proud of. Considering you don’t speak often, you figured the least you could do was use your voice for your anniversary. Although she adapted to your lack of vocalness, that didn’t mean she didn’t want it. She’d made it clear every time she tried to evoke more words out of you. Whilst you were more quiet, you expressed yourself through actions. That was something she was always grateful for.

On the day right before your anniversary, while Yunjin was away at practice and you had the place to yourself, you mustered up all your courage to do what you had been planning for awhile.

With trembling hands, you composed yourself and positioned your phone before hitting the record button. Taking a deep breath, you began to sing.

The sweet, tender sound that escaped your lips filled the room. Your voice carried a vulnerability that mirrored your own insecurities, yet it was also infused with a profound love that only Yunjin could truly understand.

When you felt that you sang enough and brought the song to an end, you stopped the recording. It wasn’t necessarily long, but it was more than enough. Well, at least that’s what you hoped.

Feeling satisfied with the progress you made, you locked your phone with a smile. You would send this to Yunjin when she headed off to sleep. She was going to stay the night with her members and drive back to you on the day of your anniversary.

Fortunately, that day arrived rather quickly. You were still asleep by the time Yunjin had awoken. She wanted to wake up early so she could get a gift for you and then head your way, hopefully arriving before you woke up.

Yunjin’s alarm went off, waking her up and earning a groan in response. She picked up her phone to look at the time, squinting her eyes as they attempted to adjust to the brightness of her screen. As soon as her eyes were used to it, she did just that and while doing so, she noticed a message in her notification center. Wondering who could’ve possibly texted her while she was asleep, she unlocked her phone and checked.

It was from you, morphing her confusion into exhilaration. She clicked on the message and saw that it was an attachment, returning her puzzled expression as she sat up straighter and tapped on the video.

The sound of your voice filled the space of her room, bouncing off the walls and gracefully entering her ears. The latter couldn’t help the emotions that washed over her at that moment.

Yunjin's eyes welled up with tears as she listened, captivated by the beauty that resonated within every note. Your voice washed over Yunjin like a gentle wave, drowning out any doubts or insecurities. In that moment, she realized that your voice was not just a lullaby to her, but a symphony of love and vulnerability that transcended any imperfections.

The video eventually came to an end, causing her to quickly wipe her tears away and jump out of bed, forgetting to respond. She rushed to get ready, nearly tripping over her pants as she hopped on one leg to pull them up.

She was ready in record time, putting her phone in her pocket and grabbing her bag. She quickly double checked the bag for the necklace she bought you before closing it and running outside. Her manager knew that she was planning on getting you some flowers, so they already had the car ready by the time she made it outside.

Yunjin hastily got into the car and closed the door. Sensing the younger girl’s urgency, they sped off and headed to a local flower store. As fast as she entered the vehicle, she exited just as swift.

She searched the shop for your favorite flowers and and grabbed them as soon as she spotted them. Not wasting any time, she paid the owner and sent a thankful smile their way before rushing back out.

It didn’t take long before she arrived to your place. Thanking her manager as she got out, she made her way to your front door, knowing you’d still be asleep. She had the spare key to get inside, anyways.

Once inside, Yunjin took the small jewelry box containing your necklace and put it in her pocket, as well as placing the flowers on the counter. Yunjin tiptoed through the hallway, careful not to make a sound. She gently pushed open your door, revealing a scene that melted her heart. There, lying peacefully under the covers was your sleeping figure.

A tender smile graced Yunjin's lips as she observed her sleeping beauty. She couldn't help but feel a rush of overwhelming love and admiration. Kneeling beside the bed, Yunjin reached out to caress your hair, her fingertips gliding through the strands with utmost care.

As if sensing Yunjin’s presence, you stirred, slowly awakening from your blissful slumber. Your eyes fluttered open, and a tired but content smile adorned your face. Seeing Yunjin before you brought a spark of joy to your eyes.

"Hey," You murmured, your voice filled with warmth and love.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Yunjin whispered softly, her voice carrying a gentle tenderness. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Your smile widened as you stretched lazily, reaching out to pull Yunjin closer. She intertwined her fingers with yours, putting your hand on the pillow and leaning in for a soft kiss.

"I am really lucky to have you," You murmured, your voice laced with sincerity. "Thank you for being in my life."

Yunjin stayed close and she looked you deeply in the eyes, smiling fondly. "No, thank you for making every day brighter, for being the love of my life." Her voice was filled with a deep affection that resonated within their shared space.

“And thank you for allowing me to hear that beautiful voice of yours. Best thing to wake up to.” You felt your flush from realization. You completely forgot you sent her that video of you singing before you went to sleep.

“Ah..”

“Well, second best thing to wake up to. You’re first.” Yunjin spoke as she used her free hand to caress your cheek. The reason behind your flushed face was no longer from embarrassment, but instead from your girlfriend’s words.

“Just come in the bed..” You mumbled, patting the space beside you. If she wasn’t within such close proximity, she wouldn’t have heard you. Smiling, she did just that and laid on her back, turning her head in your direction. While you were beneath the covers, she was on above them, considering she was already dressed for the day.

You observed as she got comfortable before inching closer, wanting to be as close as possible, evoking a chuckle out of the raven haired girl. She happily embraced you, allowing you to rest your head on her chest.

“Do you want your gift?” Yunjin asked quietly, playing with your hair and looking up at the ceiling as she waited for your response. You hummed, not wanting to get up.

“Not at the moment. I just want to cuddle for awhile.”

Pleased with your answer, she planted a kiss on your forehead before resting her head on yours. Your breathing synced up with hers and you closed your eyes, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over you again. She knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, so she closed her eyes as well. You both would be able to further enjoy your anniversary when you woke up.

A/N: Thank you for the request, and love you too!!! <33

[ritsusakumawife]

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

Fluff to Angst (?)

Synopsis: Meeting Kamisato Ayato was both a dream and a nightmare

Warnings: Minor swearing, ooc, cringe, bad grammar, not proofread

Meeting Ayato completely changed your life

Before meeting him, everything was the same

Wake up, eat breakfast, get ready, work, eat lunch, work some more, go home, eat dinner, and sleep

The cycle just repeats itself over and over again like you’re stuck in an endless loop

But everything changed when he came to your humble shop and bought almost everything might I add

“These..Items..Are unexpectedly high quality but yet you sell them for cheap, why is that?”

‘Huh? What do you mean ‘unexpectedly'?!? Who does this man think he is to just assume my things aren’t high quality'

“Oh, I just happen to have a great luck at picking out items, I guess..?”

“So, you just happen to always get high quality items when shopping? I find that quite hard to believe”

“Look here mister! I don’t know who you think you are but if you aren’t here to buy then please kindly get out.”

“I’m just a simple average human doing my best to survive in this world”

“And to answer your question on why I sell them 'cheap' it’s because that’s simply the price I paid to buy them”

“I’d be a horrible person to inflate the price a whole lot y’know?”

“Pfft..”

‘This guy..Is he seriously holding back his laugh?!’ (๑•ૅㅁ•๑)

“Alright alright, I’m not here to fight”

“I’ll buy everything from here to there”

‘What—’

“Thoma, make sure everything is safely delivered to the estate”

“Yes, my lord”

'LORD??? JUST WHO IS THIS MAN?!??!’

After that horrible first meeting with Ayato

He came back a few times to buy some things he needed. What did he do with them? You don’t know, and honestly? You didn’t care. Business is business

Due to his constant visits you soon found out his name was 'Ayato'

With time you and Ayato grew closer with each other

You honestly didn’t get why he decided to come to your shop in person when he could’ve just ordered his people to buy the things he needed for him but hey, you can’t say you dislike his presence, in fact, you like it

He came almost every single day that he just became a constant in your life

Oh how you wished he just hadn’t come to your shop that day

Fast forward to when you and Ayato started dating

You noticed a lot of people started to stare at you. And no, it wasn’t just a glance or something. It was full on staring

They always gave you judgmental looks

You always heard them criticizing your looks, voice, posture, the way you talk and walk

You didn’t know why, until Ayato decided to tell you why, that is

And so, you found out that the man you’ve been dating was none other than Kamisato Ayato

Truth be told, even after he told you his full name you still didn’t know who he was. He had to explain to you about his family and etc.

He found it amusing how you had a lot of knowledge when it comes to material things but know almost nothing when it comes to socializing, politics, and all that business stuff. He almost believes that you really are just lucky to have survived this long all by yourself

Ayaka having heard of the news of you dating her brother decided to officially meet you

Ayaka has known about your existence due to her brother always telling her about you and because Ayato always comes to her to ask her opinions on what to get you as a gift

She was a bit cautious at first, making sure you weren’t just using her brother, but it didn’t take long for her to trust you

And it also didn’t take long for both of you to become best friends

Since it was basically public knowledge that you and Ayato were dating, you had to move in, in the Kamisato estate to protect you from possible assassins that may take your life

It took a lot of time for the people working there to get used to you. They were also of course a bit cautious of you since they’ve seen many people try to seduce their lord

In the end, everyone was divided in two sections.

One side trusts you and are willing to serve you like you’re also their lord and the other side doesn’t trust you as much and still remain a good distance away from you

But it was alright, you told yourself that as long as you have Ayato you can make it through their judgmental stares and comments

Love really does make a person a blind..

The dating stage was..Like a dream, you couldn’t believe you managed to snatch yourself a lovely caring man like Ayato

The newly wed stage was like heaven on Teyvat

The married stage was a nightmare alright

Everywhere you went you felt stares

Their stares

Always judging and criticizing

It was never ending

You thought it might die down after a bit

You told yourself that they’ll stop after a few more months

The people just aren’t used to it yet

You get it, you really do, Ayato is a person of high status so you understand their criticisms

After all, you were just an average person living their regular life then suddenly you were dating one of the most famous people in the land

This particular day was worse than other days

Everyone was much more unbearable it didn’t help that your husband was busy for the rest of the day, again

For the past 5 years that you’ve been married to Ayato you can’t remember a single day where you had spent one day together with him. Just him, no work, no nothing

Hell, you haven’t even been able to sit and eat at the same table during these years you’ve been married

Sometimes you wish you just hadn’t gotten married at all

At least back then you were actually able to see Ayato and eat at the same table as him

Now that you’re married to him you can’t even see him due to work

And when you do see him it’ll either be because you got a glimpse of him through the door before it shuts or if there’s a social party that you need to attend in

Every single promise was broken

“I’m sorry dear, I’ll make sure to eat with you today”

“I can’t just 'relax'! Sigh Please get out I have work to do”

“Next time, I promise”

“Ah yes, about our date today..I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel it. I have a business meeting today”

“Day off? I don’t have time for that”

Your once happy dream life turned dull and unhappy

You kept telling yourself that it was alright, he was just busy with work and will make time for you when needed. Being the Yashiro Commissioner is a stressful job so it was understandable

But..With every single passing day it was hard..It kept getting harder and harder to stay upbeat and think positively

Again, it didn’t help that others was still judging and criticizing you. You honestly thought it’ll only last for 1-2 years at most but no, they’re still nitpicking at every single thing you did

Calling you a commoner, gold digger, snake, slut, manipulator, and a whole lot of other things

Things got worse when the vision hunt decree came

He got more busier and busier and even had to leave on some sort of “trip” without telling you

You didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, is he doing alright? Is he still alive? Surely he didn’t get assassinated right?

It was all just so..Unbearable

You wanted to leave

You needed to leave

Staying in that estate was taking a big hit on your mental health

It’s always been taking a hit. You just hadn’t noticed and continued to look through rose tinted glasses

Your thoughts were spiraling down into the deep depths

You knew you needed to get your shit together

And so, you tried your best to reach out to Ayato

But of course, you couldn’t get a hold of him at all

So you decided to just leave for the meantime

You’ll deal with the paperwork and everything else once he comes back

For now though, you just decided to reopen your shop, get business running, and try to live your best life without him

Maybe once Ayato comes back and you get divorced you’ll try traveling? It’ll be hard to do so with the Vision hunt decree but you were sure you’ll be able to make it work somehow

Maybe an old friend will be willing to help

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺

Hihiii I’m sorry if this is just absolute trash

This is definitely not the best of my works so far but idk (◞‸◟)

I’m not sure if this even is considered angst or not tbh

I have more ideas for this butttt I just can’t fit it so I apologize

The end..Definitely wasn’t what I had in mind though

Who do you think the old friend is? (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Part 2

[soulofapatrick]

I Would Wait Forever - Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You and Matt have been friends forever and one night, after mutual pining, Matt takes a risk

Words: 3k

Warnings: none 

Y/N’s POV

I’m jolted awake by the sound of the front door shutting, a dark figure moving around almost silently as if he was trying not to wake me, masking being put down. Matt’s back from being Hell Kitchen’s vigilant, the famous Daredevil. We’ve been best friends for years so of course I worked it out quickly. Well, let’s just say Matt forgot to his suit somewhere other than his wardrobe that I constantly raid as his hoodies are so soft and fluff so of course I’m gonna steal them. 

I gather my thoughts, trying to steady my heart after waking from a nightmare and I can’t stop the small flutter in my chest as Matt steps into the moonlight streaming through his floor to ceiling windows. He looks exhausted, his suit torn and bloodstained and he practically collapses into the couch, head falling to my shoulder. My heart rate skyrockets and I’m groaning as he’s laughing, soft and warm before pressing a kiss to my shoulder where my shirt has slipped down. His lips feel like a spark of electricity, causing me to shiver as his lips ghost my skin. My mind is racing as if try to savour the feeling, storing it away for a future moment. 

We’ve always had a close relationship, but lately it feels like something has changed. There have been moments I’ve caught him looking at me in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. I know he can’t see me in the way but it makes me feel like he’s looking straight into my soul and it has made it hard to keep my feelings in check as I don’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing how I feel. I reach up, running my hands through his fluffy hair as I ask, “Rough night?” Trying to keep my voice steady. 

He nods, letting out a sigh, breath ghosting my neck, “It’s never easy out there,” His voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, “But I can’t just sit back and let those bastards run rampant.”

I understand his drive to fight for justice but the thought of him getting hurt or worse, losing him, makes me want to stop him leaving every night. I know I should tell him how I feel about him but I’m losing him in anyway so I just stuff those feelings to the back of my mind and focus on being there for him as a friend, “You want me to run you a bath?”He’s nodding, moving his head from my shoulder so I can stand and he holds his arms out with a pout of his lips as his deep chocolate eyes are on my face but slightly too far up for him to not be blind. It makes me laugh how cute he can be as I take his hands and pull him to his feet even though he can very well do it himself. 

I head to the bathroom to run the bath, knowing he’ll go to his bedroom to grab some clean clothes and a towel so I barely bat an eyelid when I hear him moving around while I turn the faucet on and get the temperature just right. Matt uses echolocation of sorts to sense his surrounding, listening intently as to how sounds bounce off objects and from that he’s able to paint a pretty accurate picture every time. He’s more than capable of sorting himself out due to this but I like doing this for him, being able to show him how much he means to me with my actions and I know he doesn’t mind it either. 

As the bath fills I can hear Matt making his way towards the bathroom so I put some of those sweetly scented bath salts into the water, watching them sparkle and shimmer before disappearing and giving the bathroom a faintly cherry smell. Fuck it smells so good, cherry being one of my favourite scents. I’m turning the taps off when the bathroom door creaks and Matt is hovering there, a change of clothes and towel in his hands and he’s in nothing but a pair of boxers, making my mouth dry at the sight of him. His toned muscles and defined abs are on full display, thick thighs making me swallow hard before I’m clearing my throat and composing myself because what the fuck am I doing? A flush spreads across my cheeks as I force myself to look away, not helping when I steal another quick glance as he is so goddamn attractive and seeing him practically naked does things to my body that I can’t ignore. 

I’m clearing my throat again, moving aside so he can enter the bathroom as I say, “It’s ready for you,” My voice coming out a little breathless and there’s a shit eating grin on those pretty lips, “I’ll just uh… I’ll be in the kitchen.” I’m nodding more to myself that him before I quickly turn and speed walk out of the bathroom, back to the kitchen where I put the kettle on needing a coffee. The bathroom door is sliding closed behind me and I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to catch my breath. Seeing Matt practically naked always leaves me feeling a little flustered and it’s harder to hide my feeling for him, as if he’s being affectionate and all those accidental touches weren’t so accidental. No, of course I’m just overthinking and overanalysing all of this, my heart seeing what my heart wants. 

The sound of the kettle bubbling interrupts my thoughts and I prepare myself a mug of coffee, adding two sugars and a splash of milk plus a little caramel sauce that Matt keeps here for me. As I take a sip I can feel the warmth spreading through me, calming my nerves and clearing my mind. The time flashing on the clock has me groaning as it’s almost five am and the sun is starting to rise and I should be in bed but making sure Matt’s not dead is more important. I can’t sleep until I’m sure he’s safe, hence why I let myself into his apartment and fell asleep on his couch. His couch is looking rather comfy again as sleepiness clouds my mind a little. 

As I walk to the sofa I can hear the faint sound of water splashing and Matt humming to himself, drawing a smile from me as I know he’s relaxing after a long night of being the hero Hells Kitchen didn’t’t know it needed. I settle on the couch and grab my book, trying to distract myself and pass the time until Matt’s done. But, of course, my mind keeps wandering back to Matt and how he is so special to me. I can’t help but think about how much I care about him, how much he means to me and how much it hurts to see him come back battered and bruised. I don’t think he feels the same way so I keep it all to myself, wondering what it would be like to be with him, holding him close and kiss him. 

I’m vaguely aware of the book slipping from my hands and my head falling back to the arm of the chair as my eyes are slipping shut, the thought of Matt being mine on my mind. The sound of the bathroom door waking me suddenly and Matt’s silhouette appears in the doorway, hair damp and skin glistening in the morning light. He looks undoubtably ethereal, rather quite the opposite of his vigilant persona. He’s smiling at me still on the couch, book on the floor now and I’m letting my head fall back on the couch, watching as he runs a hand through his damn hair, leaving it sticking up in odd directions as he speaks, “Hey,” His voice soft as he makes his way over to me, “That was exactly what I needed.” He leans down and places a kiss to my forehead, causing my heart to try take up skipping as a hobby, “And now what I need is you in bed with me so we can get some sleep before Foggy or Karen comes yelling in about…” He pretends to look at a watch on his wrist as if he would be able to see one if he wasn’t blind, “Four hours.” 

Before I can make any response he’s leaning down again and scooping me up, throwing me over his shoulder with a shriek from me. As he carries me to his bedroom I can feel the strength of the his muscles beneath my body, his back and shoulders are broad and defined and I can feel the firmness of his biceps as he effortlessly carries me. It’s no surprise that he’s able to move with such ease, even as a blind man. He’s trained to navigate the world using other senses, his body honed for strength and agility. He’s throwing me don into the soft mattress, a laugh rumbling his chest when I let out a yelp. 

His bedroom is simple yet elegant, with dark wooden furniture and navy blue bedding, the walls are a light grey with a few pieces of artwork hanging here and there. They’re my favourite shade of grey, Matt having made me pick the exact shade of grey as if he knew I’d be here a lot. The smug bastard. The bed is large and inviting with plush pillows and a soft comforter that looks like it would be prefect place to spend the rest of the day so I’m shimmying out of my sweatpants and before I can reach under my shirt to undo my bra nimble fingers are there, breath warm against my neck, sending shivers and goosebumps after the brush of his fingers. His touch is gentle yet confident, moving away too soon so I can slip my bra off under my shirt before laying back in the soft bed. 

Matt is joining me, the bed dipping behind me and I can’t not wonder if this is what other best friends do. Do they share beds? Do they cuddle like Matt is doing now, calloused hands finding my hips and pulling me back into his chest. He settles, the warmth of his body seeping into mine, sends waves of comfort and security over me. His breath tickles the back of my neck as he whispers, “What’s on your mind? You’ve been deep in thought since I got back.” 

“Just thinking about life, ya know?” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, “The usual stuff really.” 

Matt’s grip on my hips tightens slight and I feel him press a soft kiss to the back of my neck, “Hmmm, what about life?” He has to be teasing me, there’s a small smile as his lips are pressed against my shoulder as he raises himself on one elbow to look in my general direction. I take a deep breath, unsure if I should share my thoughts with him, even if he has always been my confidante and safe space. 

“I… I don’t know Matty,” I say, voice barely above a whisper, “"Sometimes I just feel like I'm stuck. Like I'm not really living, just going through the motions. Do you ever feel like that?”

His hand moves from my hip, tracing soothing circles over my stomach and it’s a little ticklish and he knows it with the smile pressed into my shoulder before he replies, “Yeah, I know what you mean,” His voice is just as quiet as mine, “But you know what they say, life is what you make it. Maybe we just need to shake things up a bit, try something new.” Try something new… I turn my head to look up at him, his face only inches from mine and the way the light from the bedside lamp is hitting his face… I’m shaking my head, trying to clear my not so best friend thoughts about Matt as he doesn’t feel the same for me. No way he does, but he’s moving closer, voice low and rough, “I could try something new with you.” 

I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest as Matt’s words sink in. Did he actually say that? My mind racing with a hundred thoughts and questions but I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence as much as I try so I’m being stupid and turning my head away from him, trying to hide the blush that’s spreading across my cheeks. He seems to sense my hesitation and pulls back slightly, hand still resting on my stomach, “Hey lovely, it’s okay,” He speaks softly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

With that he’s going to move away but I’m reaching up, fingers finding the stray tufts of his very fluffy hair at the nape of his neck as I roll onto my back so he’s hovering over me. My hand moving to his face, fingers gently tracing over his features and he lets me. I take int he strong lines of his jaw, the slight stubble that has started to grow and the way his cheekbones seem to be carved from marble. His nose is straight and prominent, giving him a rugged and masculine look and his eyebrows are thick and wee defined. But it’s his eyes that I always get lost in, a mixture of cognac and chocolate that seems to change depending on his mood but they’re always so warm and inviting when he’s facing me. Then there are his lips, full and soft looking with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners as he kisses the pads of my fingers when they trail over them. 

This small action breaks my resolve and I’m suddenly grabbing his jaw, surging up to slam my lips into a kiss that pours all the pent up emotions I’ve been feeling for him. Matt’s surprised gasp turns into a groan as he responds eagerly, arms wrapping around me and pulling me closer. The warmth of his body envelops me, making me feel safe and loved, and I can't help but deepen the kiss. Our tongues tangle together in a dance that feels familiar and new at the same time, and I realise that this is what I've been wanting all along. 

We’re finally breaking apart, panting and I can see the same desire on his face as he drags his bottom lip through his teeth, “Y/N,” He’s murmuring, voice rough with emotions, “I have been waiting for you to do that for forever.” 

“You knew?” The moment is broken as I glare at him incredulously from where I’m laying below him, sinking into the soft pillows and probably looking no way as intimidating or mad as I hoped I would sound. 

Matt’s face softens and he’s moving a hand to cup my cheek, thumb rubbing gentle circles on my skin, “Of course I knew,” He replies softly, “I can hear your heartbeat remember. I just didn’t want to push you, I would have waited forever for you to be ready.” My heart swells at his words and the warmth of his hand on my cheek. All the doubts and fears that had been holding me back melt away and I’m putting pressure on the back of his neck until he gets the hint, his face breaking out into a huge smile before he’s leaning down. 

My heart flutters in anticipation, lips meeting lips and it’s better than I could ever have imagined. His lips are soft and warm, moving perfectly against mine and I can taste a hint of the peppermint toothpaste but the overwhelming taste of everything Matty is intoxicating. His hands cup my cheeks as mine tangle in his fluffy hair, pulling him as close as I can. Our bodies are pressed together and I can feel the warmth and strength above me, his body fitting perfectly above mine and I can’t get enough of him. The kiss deepening, hands starting to roam and explore. 

His hands move down my sides, feeling the dip of my hips before he’s gripping them and pulling me closer. I’m running my fingers over his back feeling every ripple and dip of his muscles. His skin is warm and smooth, fingers running up his spine, feeling each vertebY/N and the muscles on either side as he shivers. The sensation of skin against skin combined with the passion of the moment is electric and exhilarating.  It feels like time stands still and the world around us doesn't matter anymore. We break apart for a moment, gasping for air, and our eyes meet. In that moment, I know that I want to be with him, that he's the one I've been waiting for. 

Matt leans down to kiss me again, and I can feel his smile against my lips. His hands move to my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, and it's like we're two puzzle pieces finally fitting together perfectly. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss even more. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to be with him like this. The kiss continues, and I don't want it to ever end but eventually, Matt pulls away, a small smile on his face again as he moves back to my side. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his gaze never leaving mine. "We should try and get some sleep," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. I nod, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me. As we curl up together, my head resting on his chest, I can feel his heartbeat under my ear. It's a steady, comforting rhythm, and I know that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, his heart my own lullaby drifting me to sleep within the safety of his arms and a promise of a relationship. 

---------------

Marvel Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

[cumulo-stratus]

Glitter Girl [p.g]

Penelope and her best friend share some banter over the phone

WARNINGS- none

Platonic!Penelope Garcia x gn!reader//fluffy Drabble//masterlist!!

a/n- this was such a cute request but it ended up being more of a drabble haha, hope anon enjoys!

0.5k

*brinngg*

*brinngg*

*click*

“Penelope Garcia, knower of all knowledge, and answerer of all asks- what can I do for you today?” 

Penelope Garcia was sitting in her batcave, an Earpiece resting in her ear while she spoke. You on the other hand were across the country in a small police precinct in Colorado. 

Your feet rested up on a desk, and your back was leaning back in the old office chair. Spencer was across from you, shaking his head at your smirk. He was sat at a desk similar to yours, except his was stacked with books he’d picked up from a local library to help with the case.

Garcia’s classic quip made you chuckle before speaking, “hey glitter girl- I need information on an edward mulligan- and you're on speaker by the way!”. Your intonation went up at then, a teasing lilt to your voice. Spencer only sighed and shook his head. 

“your pretty glittery yourself there beautiful, now- edward mulligan looks like this guy has- oh my god..”

The way Penelope said “oh my god” was so rushed that it blended into one single word of surprise, and dread. 

“It seems like our guy Edward has been dipping his toes in some naughty videos- and by dipping his toes, I mean diving in head first. I'm talking chat rooms, subscriptions, downloads- the works.”

You sighed, “what kinda naughty stuff we talkin ‘bout pen?”

“Some not so glittery stuff, we're talkin hardcore bondage porn, and many other things I don't want to talk about,”

You could hear the sound of your best friend sighing, the click clacking of keys, and the meows of what could only be kittens. In that order. 

“Enjoy the kitten videos pen and get back to me when you've de horrified yourself,” you chuckled as you spoke, practically hearing the smile on Penelope’s face as she hung up.

Spencer, from across the desk chuckled at the well rehearsed banter between you and your best friend.

You smiled back at him, “you know Spencer she I does actually wear body glitter, I got it for her as a birthday gift,” when you spoke Spencer gave a puzzled look. 

Then asked, “body.. glitter…?” You laughed lightly at Spencer's lack of knowledge, pulling out your phone to show Spencer a photo example. And text Pen about this new development. 

Needless to say your phone rang almost immediately after the text had been sent. “Oh my goodness I can't believe Spencer didn't know- that's so cute!!” Your best friend's voice was up at least 2 octaves in excitement. 

You winced at her volume level, pulling the speaker slightly away from your ear. This caused both you and Spencer to laugh out loud at the situation. 

“I know right?? He's such a little cutie pie,” you spoke into the speaker, which was now back resting against your ear. 

Spencer couldn't help but sigh and shake his head at your nickname. At least they weren't as bad as the nicknames you called Penelope. But they were all in good fun, it was you way of showing you love her, and vice versa. 

“Ugh we have to give some to Spencer when we get back, help put it on!” Penelope giggled through the phone. 

The End

[blossominghunnie]

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩

Pairing: Ricky x fem!reader

Summary: Ricky and Y/n go on a holiday trip with their friends and fortunately, or unfortunately, they have to share a bed.

Genre: F2l, fluff

Warning: None

Notes: Ricky has been bias wrecking me lately so I thought about this for a few days now and since I love this idea, I had to write my own jsjs. 🥸 A little bit longer than what I usually write but I had inspiration. :)

“How could they have gotten the reservation wrong?” Y/n asked while gripping her hair in a distressed manner.

She and Ricky were standing side by side looking at the big hotel room in front of them.

“I don’t know, maybe because they have too much work?” Ricky tried to reason. “Anyway, I tried to talk to the front desk to change it for a suite or whatever room that had two beds but the hotel is fully booked because of the holidays.”

The girl sighted and walked towards the furniture that was by the door, placing her stuff there. Ricky doing the same.

“Okay, that’s okay. We can make this work.” Y/n tried to be positive. “You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa, it looks cozy enough.”

“No, no, don’t be a dummy.” The blonde shook his head. “I’ll take the sofa and you take the bed.”

“Why don’t you just share the bed and problem solved?” Another voice joined the conversation, it was Gyuvin, who was standing by the door.

“When did you get here?” Ricky questioned. “And how long have you been listening?”

“I got here like two minutes ago, while you were flirting or arguing or whatever.” He shrugged.

“We weren’t flirting, Gyu.” The girl rolled her eyes.

“Why did you come?” The blonde asked, a little irritated with his best friend.

“Oh, yeah. Just came to tell you that we’re all going to the pool later on and then we’ll get dinner, so be ready soon.” They both nodded and the brown haired exited the room.

A silence followed, the pair in deep thought.

“Maybe Gyuvin is right, it would be easier for us to share. Only if it’s okay with you.” Ricky spoke.

“Y-yeah, sure.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Y/n was laying on a sun lounger by the pool, by her side were Zhang Hao and Matthew, they were talking and joking; the boys teasing her.

“I can’t believe you got stuck in that situation and to make matters worse, with your crush!” Matthew giggled. He found the situation hilarious.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh at my misery all you want.” The girl pouted.

“Things would be so much easier if you confessed to him, but you’re a coward.” The oldest spoke, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m scared of being rejected, okay?” Y/n crossed her arms. “Things would be so awkward if he didn’t feel the same.”

“I’m almost 100% sure he likes you. Like, he laughs at your jokes, which are awful by the way.” He got hit on the arm while Zhang Hao laughed. “It’s true!”

“He also blushes when you smile at him, which never happens with other people. And haven’t you noticed how he’s super sweet and attentive with you?” The Chinese questioned. “I could go on and on.”

Both of them made good points. To be honest, she had noticed some things like how he liked hugging her a little longer or how he held her pinky when there was a crowd around.

Y/n never thought much of it since they had a very close and tight friendship.

But now she started to wonder for how long he’s been acting like this and if it had another meaning than only been a good best friend.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe he likes me and I’ve been clueless the whole time.” Y/n looked at them while getting to that conclusion.

That conversation gave her courage to talk to Ricky.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

After a day full of fun and delicious food, the friend group returned to their hotel rooms.

Ricky and Y/n said goodbye to Taerae and Hanbin, whose room was across, and entered theirs.

The pair took their shoes off and the accessories they wore and sat on the bed, a little bit far from each other.

“Do you wanna watch something?” The blonde asked after a minute of silence.

“Sure.”

He grabbed the tv remote and turned the tv on. He searched until he found a Christmas movie that he knew she loved, The Grinch.

They watched it for a while, well, Ricky was, Y/n was lost in her thoughts trying to find the right moment to confess to the cute guy next to her.

She finally decided it was now or never and spoke.

“Ricky?”

“Yeah? What’s up?” He looked at her, all her attention was on her.

“I have something to tell you.” She fiddled with her shirt’s sleeve. “I-I like you.”

The boy was stunned, he was processing what he just heard. He was hopeful that his crush liked him back but it still shocked him.

Meanwhile, Y/n couldn’t even look him in the eye, a lot of scenarios were running through her head since he didn’t answer right away.

“I like you too, Y/nnie.” He took her hand and caressed her cheek. “And I have for a while now.”

The girl was red, not only because she was lucky enough that she wasn’t rejected but because of the placement of his hand.

“You look so cute when you blush.” That only deepened her blush.

“Stooop teasing me.” She whined making Ricky laugh, she was adorable.

“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s the truth.” He moved closer and hugged her. Y/n melted in his arms.

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“I would love to.” They smiled and the girl took the initiative and kissed his lips softly.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Zb1 masterlist || Main masterlist

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not a Bad Holiday Season

Hey! I hope you had a great holiday season! I was wondering if you could write something sweet about Virgil and Logan after the secret Santa episode. No pressure ofc, Thank you you’re the best <3 – lapassemirrior

Read on Ao3

Pairings: none

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1225

“No, but that doesn’t work within the context of the other clues…”

Virgil smiles as he ambles down the hallway, listening to the soft mutterings on the other side of Logan’s door. From the sounds of it, Logan’s hardly stopped to breathe since he figured out that the newspaper wasn’t just a newspaper. He hesitates for a moment, just a moment, before knocking on the door.

“Come in?”

“Hey,” he says as he steps through, “wanted to check if you—whoa.”

He thinks he can be forgiven for truly coming to a dead stop when he sees the fucking conspiracy board Logan’s got where his whiteboard usually is. The original newspaper is still on his desk, the eye in the hurricane of notebooks, pens, and paper strewn about, but he’s made copies of certain parts and pinned them to a corkboard. Fucking hell, he’s even got bits of red string connecting picture to picture—if he didn’t know any better, he’d ask if Logan were working with Roman or Remus on some film noir idea.

“Virgil?”

He snaps himself out of it. “Sorry, I, uh, I guess I’m glad you’re having fun?”

Logan’s face splits into an almost manic grin—shit, maybe he really has been spending too much time with Remus. “This is incredible, Virgil, I can’t properly express my gratitude until I’ve completed your puzzle. I have to ask: did you do all of this truly by yourself?”

Virgil scratches the back of his head. “Eh. I may have gotten Princey to help with some of it.”

Logan frowns. “Roman?”

“Well, yeah, he is Creativity too. And he’s—okay, I’m not gonna spoil it ‘cause it’s his idea, but he has this thing he’s doing right now that’s gonna be really, really cool when he gets around to showing it off, so—“

He trails off when he sees Logan still frowning at his desk. He takes a step closer, nudging him with an elbow.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It really is nothing,” he says, “I suppose I’m surprised that Roman would be willing to…help you with such a thing.”

Virgil frowns. The irritation that Logan had expressed when he’d first looked at the newspaper, the almost resignation he’d had when he’d immediately moved on, it’s starting to show in his face right now.

“L,” he says, trying to get his attention, “why is it surprising?”

“Well,” Logan huffs, adjusting his tie, “you know.”

”I don’t. Can you tell me?”

“It’s Roman.”

“Yeah. Creativity. Making things. Doing stuff for us.”

“For you,” Logan corrects, still not meeting his gaze, “not necessarily for me.”

That’s funny. As Virgil remembers it, Roman had been hesitant to help him at all until he’d told him it was for Logan. Then he was practically climbing all over him to help out.

“But perhaps in the spirit of the holiday, then—“

“Logan.”

Logan stops. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. Virgil lets him, waiting until he’s put his glasses back on and sat down. He leans against the edge of the desk and waits.

”That was unfair of me to say,” he mumbles, “wasn’t it?”

“Maybe a bit.”

“I…didn’t mean it to be spiteful.”

“You sure?”

“…maybe slightly.”

Virgil chuckles, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know you and Princey have your moments.”

“But I have those with everyone,” Logan continues, staring off into space, “even—even with you. When I didn’t realize what your gift was at first, I…”

“Hey,” Virgil murmurs when Logan’s breath hitches just a bit too much for his liking, “you’re okay. It’s—look, the holidays are a stressful time for everyone, it’s not fair of me to hold it against you.”

“Thank you.”

“And, uh, I think any ARG that loudly screams hey, look at me, I’m a big fucking puzzle kinda fails at being an entertaining ARG—“ Logan snorts— “so I don’t blame you for taking a second to get it either.”

Logan hums, leaning against Virgil’s side. His glasses squish slightly into his ribs and he turns to fix it. “You’re right.”

“And hey, you really look like you’re enjoying it.” He gestures to the board. “You got your red string out and everything.”

“Well, I realized that I could take notes on my computer or in the notebook, but…” He can hear the moment the smile curls up his face. “I decided I might as well have fun with it.”

“That’s the whole point.”

“Thank you,” he says, softer now, turning to look up at him, “I really do like the present.”

Virgil chuckles. “I got that. Glad you’re having fun. What part are you at?”

“Part?”

“How much of it have you solved already?”

“I’ve just gotten to the QR code you managed to hide inside the picture—how did you do that, by the way? No, no—“ Logan holds up a hand as Virgil starts to explain— “don’t tell me just yet, I’ll make a list to ask you once I’ve finished everything.”

Virgil just grins and holds up his hands, stepping back as he watches Logan get up and start working on something again. He wanders over to the board after a moment, looking at all the pieces. Shit, he knew Logan would be good at this, but Janus would pop up if he said he’s a little disappointed that some of the puzzles didn’t take him longer.

Though, he notices with a grin, it doesn’t look like Logan’s cracked the big one yet. That’ll be something to look forward too.

“But enough about that,” Logan says, “did you come here for anything specific?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Pat and Princey are making a fucking feast for dinner and they’ve asked the rest of us to put together a movie marathon. If you, uh, if you’re willing to step away for a sec?”

“Certainly. Give me one moment…” Logan scribbles something else down on the piece of paper and pins it to the board—damnit, he got that one too, he really is good at this, maybe he should’ve made it harder— “there. Alright, what is everyone thinking? There are a few generic thrillers that have come out recently, Remus was talking about a disaster movie—“

“Wait, they made another one?”

Logan rolls his eyes as they head out to the hall. “It’s quite a profitable genre, despite the rampant suspension of disbelief that’s necessary for full immersion, so yes, I’m sure they did.”

“I don’t know about you, but I think not having to think too much sounds like a good thing.”

Logan chuckles. “Yes, well, you’ve been kind enough to give me quite the puzzle to keep me entertained for a while.”

“I really am glad you like it, L.”

“May I be honest?” Virgil nods and Logan glances around, leaning a bit closer. “Even if it had just been a newspaper, I still would have appreciated it as it came from you.”

Well. Shit. Now he’s blushing. And Logan’s looking at him like that and yep, they’re going to find the others right now.

All in all, not such a bad holiday season.

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