#valentine's is around the corner... thinking thinking

[writingmochi]

cast: jay ✗ fem.reader (ft. riize's wonbin, aespa’s ningning, enhypen and &team’s 02 liners, and riize's hyung line)

synopsis: jay has always been a loomer, an introvert, and an outsider in a group of people others presumed were bad. looming in the shadows in the corner of the parties full of drinks, drugs, and sex, can only be seen with the flame of his cigarette in the dark. out of the blue, an orange flame is ignited in the dark corner, creating a silhouette of another person, another loomer, standing beside him

genre: lonely people in neon cities, drama, romance, early 00s au, angst, mature content (consumption of drugs, explicit smut)

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "loomer" (1991) (genre: dream pop/shoegaze), movie fallen angels (1995) and millennium mambo (2001)

word count: 28896 (28.8k)

warning(s): domestic abuse, sexual assault (groping), toxic relationship (not jay), infidelity (not jay), possessive behaviour, bruises and wounds, drug consumption (cigarette and alcohol, mention of ecstasy and marijuana), mention of suicide attempt, implication of alcohol amnesia (black out), explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex but also love making, manhandling, hand job (m & f received), oral job (f receive), creampie (if there is something i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

welcome! will be speedrunning the notes: this is set in seoul year 2000-2001 so there’ll be mentions of the 1997 asian financial crisis, BUT since i was born in 2003 and am an asian whose country was affected by the crisis—but not a korean, it’s not gonna be 100% accurate. though, I’ve tried my best with my research, especially regarding the culture of that time. also, this is, more or less, a character study for the main leads so it will be a layer-by-layer discovery from their povs. this is also part of my closed milestone collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! enjoy :D p.s. wear helmets when riding motorcycles!

playlist | visualizer part of the loveless anthology | an entry for equinox: the escapist

even under the closed lids of his eyes, jay could still see the dancing lights contrasting from the darkness.

the sound of the electro music playing shakes his surroundings, joined by the shuffling of people's feet in any open space that they could step in whatever the space's size. a microcosm of the crowds at the night market outside, or even the microcosm of the seoul metropolitan city. his heart beats with the bass thumping from the nearby speaker—transferring the sonic waves of the disc jockey performing on stage across the room. his ears are picking up the grainy scratch of the vinyl disc as the needle reads the printed sound wave, a slightly twangy pitch rising as the bpm gets faster and faster to make the transition to the next track seamless. cheers and exclaims follow from the young people who just a few years ago have just grown into adulthood alongside the new millennium, dancing the night away as they consume any experimental thing they're brave enough to do, even if they might regret it the next day.

jay should also do so. but he is a loomer.

a term coined by himself; an obvious answer to tell if someone asks him what he is doing most of the time. wallflower was a term he defined himself most in his younger years, as it was the only relatable word for him, but he doesn't think he is a flower of some sort. a flower blooms and reacts when the light shines on it. he, on the other hand, takes steps away so as to not be under a small sliver of it. the splash of the club's neon lights is making jay feel farther and farther away from the four walls of the club, mentally and physically. yet he preferred that to the day's sun. he's glad that he can walk around the night as it still acts like the rest of the day; business are doing their best as they recover from the financial crisis that happened before the turn of the century.

the shadow is jay's only haven against the piercing tints of hues that lift the club's atmosphere. just like it, his muted demeanour exudes a mystic aura to anyone around him. no one other than his gang and his family has ever heard him speak. his facial expressions are animated enough to tell what he's thinking—if they can read it under the obscurity of the shadow and the commotion. his black attire from head to toe definitely helps with it too, letting him blend more into the night, even underneath the neon signs of the streets; both from walking on the pavement or reflected on the body of his trusted kawasaki ninja bike.

the moisture produced from his closed eyes makes his vision blurry when he slowly opens them. the sporadically moving spotlights shine their colour-changing beam all around the crowded room. people rubbing against each other—well, grinding for the people who he can predict will end the night together—following the rhythm of the track playing as clouds of white smoke and splashes of alcoholic beverage exude from them. scents of people's sweat combining as they move their heads and bodies along, between them being sober, drunk, or intoxicated by a more dangerous chemical drug like ecstasy. he tried said drug once. and he swore to never try it again after he didn't sleep for the next 24 hours. just like the name "ecstasy" entails; being too high on the substance and it makes him not his usual gloomy self—something he hates to think about after his drug trip. his ribs showed prominently as his sober self felt how sweaty his upper body was all over his skin, never stopping until the chemical was gone from his body from dancing and drinking. even though jay says no after that trip, his friends are still doing so as he's alright with his alcohol and cigarettes—sometimes a joint of weed if nicholas gets a few rolls.

even with the darkness covering most of the club, his eyes have adapted to the dark and can still detect where his friends are: nicholas trading with someone at a pillar beside the bar, jake and euijoo enjoying the girls that their booth's "regulars" every time he and his friends come, while sunghoon is openly making out on the dance floor with a girl he recognized to be the guy's ex-fling. while his friends are doing their usual shenanigans, here he is: in his dark corner, hiding from everyone. each time one of the regular girls comes to sit at his gang's regular booth, his alert self always stands up to walk to his usual spot in the corner—which usually does not take long at all because they could even come before his drink is being served. jay still wonders how his gang still wants him within them, even with his more closed-off demeanour. wealth seems to not be a problem as he recognises his friends are also people with easy access to money—all of them meeting each other when enrolling in an international school throughout their school days—and power is also not it when the balance seems to be fair for all five of the gang. maybe the diversity of personalities is what makes them let him stay; being the only one openly closed off even among the introverts in his gang; which are him, euijoo, and sunghoon.

shaking his head as he lets his thoughts float away, jay pulls out the recognisable thick paper box from one of his pant pockets, flipping the top open as he pulls one small yet long cylinder out. replacing it with a small boxy shape, his calloused fingertip rubs against the lighter wheel before flicking it, seeing the spark fly before the rest of the orange flame lights up as he inhales while placing the flame on the tip. the hot and bitter smoke scratches the back of his mouth when he puts out the fire and pulls the cigarette away from between his lips, slightly opening his mouth as the smoke floats outside of him, even outside of his shadowy corner as the spotlight goes through it. yet, no one seems to notice him at all—a small smile tugging the corner of his lips when he also realised that.

jay's body returns to its original position: leaning against the graffiti-covered wall of the corner as he lets his vision continue on his usual observation night by night, puffing it up and returning it to the side of his body in the usual intervals he often does whenever he smokes. the flying acid-scented haze filters what he sees as his eyes stuck on the booth where his friends are now sitting—both nicholas and sunghoon have returned to join jake and euijoo. all four of them now playing a drinking game along with the girls who seem to snuggle up on the over-capacity semi-circle of the booth's velvet seat. he can see the orange flame crawling inside the cigarette below him as he flicks the burnt ash onto the dirty concrete floor.

then, a small spotlight is suddenly on him, making the boy grimace for a split second from the unexpected shine. anyone might intend to focus on it and find him as a result, but jay didn't detect any signs of that. his friends do just that as he usually sees them looking towards his way once every few minutes, the same drunk-like smiles showing from all of them as they take turns to take a shot from whatever drinking game they're playing. even with it, he can't help the other thoughts from within his mind's vault creeping in. how his friends might let him go someday; how he will be teased again for his quiet demeanor, like what he experienced back in his school years; and many more troubling thoughts that have summed up in his mind since he could remember. he has buried them as best as he can. but a minuscule crack is always enough for it to leak back into his conscious mind.

the flame that illuminates a fraction of his being is enough to let the world know he exists; even with the thoughts clouding his mind. stress and burden seemed to fall away in tiny bits as he could see the flame coming closer and closer to the fingers that he pinched the stick in between. under the layers of booming music from the speaker and his free hand wrapping in front of his torso, he hears a small click and a small orange light coming from the dark side, where it was supposed to be the deepest part of his shadowy blanket.

a trembling breath, a puff, and a hot cloud that flies in front of him later, jay finally turns his head around to follow the trail of smoke and sound.

"fuck! sorry for startling you."

the low-volumed sound waves interact with him first as jay looks to the other orange flame on the blunt end, seeing its source behind the faint light coming from the lit up cig. a tint of green coming from the spotlight beam adds to the visage as it captures one side of the person's face clearer. there is also something glimmering under the light before the beam turns away once again to the heads in the crowd.

"and for smoking…" the person's speaking pace slows, the hand holding the stick suspended in the air. the person's eyes find the boy's more visible side coming from where he is positioned. the dancing crowd becomes a background of his presence as the person, you, are deeper in the corner; resting your head on the other wall that connects the corner together. a few of the light beams that reach behind his head can still help you make out his facial features.

sharp. fierce. cold.

you watch him let out a smirk, one corner of his lips lifted, creating a charming yet smug smile, as he lifts his other hand up and you recognise that burnt tip anywhere, nearly finished as the fire almost meets his skin. he's not flinching even with the warmth inching closer and closer, adding more to his intimidating impression.

"uh huh…" you sounded, tilted your head before nodding as you let yourself take another drag from your own cig. jay continues as he has now realised just how short the burning stick on his hand has become before putting it out by throwing it on the ground and crushing it under his shoe's sole. his hand approaches the box that he pockets and picks up another stick. but when he wants to flick the flame up from his lighter, a brighter orange light comes from beside him. cigarette between his lips, he turns once again to see you and your other hand on your lighter, the flame dancing lightly as no other breeze can affect them inside the room other than people's kinetic movement and their breaths.

pushing the end of his cig to it, jay's eyes observe you who is more visible behind the bright yet small dancing fire: pulling out your own stick from your lips as they open a little bit, letting the hot smoke out before you blow the rest to the air between the two of you. also, he could finally see the glimmering coming from you that he saw a few seconds from when the spotlight hit a tiny piece of you: the silver buckle of your black leather choker.

you quickly put out the lighter as jay discovered how burnt the wrapping paper is from staying on the fire for too long. he clears his throat before returning to inhale and exhale the smoke. from the smell of it, your cig has a hint of menthol that clashes with his woody vanilla-esque smell he loves. you must enjoy sipping a drink along with doing so as the mouth cavity does become "cooler" from the mint-on-cold combination. you were also wearing an all-black ensemble from head to toe, your hair framing your face in a perfect mix of grungy-messy but still shaped enough that it doesn't look as frantic as the other girls he saw wearing too excessive an amount of hairspray to make it puffy. your eyes, however, were moving around to see the view. but it contrasts with how slow you let the smoke out—the way your chest is on a steady, slow pace. jay's eyes return to the view outside of his dark bubble, but he couldn't let go and just ignore the presence of another human being beside him.

the beating bass still fills the room up but jay could still hear you grunt as you pull out your phone from your pocket. it vibrates against your hand as you flip the top open, skim-reading the screen before tucking it back into your pocket once again. your eyes look around in the dark before they met with his, his tongue subtly rubbing against the tar that sticks onto his teeth. your lips formed into a thin line as you threw your burnt cig onto the floor before crushing it in one go with your combat boots. blowing a strand of hair from your forehead, you lean back against the wall to breathe in the club's air—no matter how stinky it is. it all seems natural to you and similar to him. your mannerism, even in the dark, seems to naturally flow; your no-colour outfit makes you try to hide yourself even in a place like this, where someone like you is more approachable than him.

jay now realised that you are also a fellow loomer. though he doesn't know if you know what the word meant.

"sorry for startling you…" he heard mutters to see your lips move along with what you said. your voice is a tad bit raspy from the smoke burning inside. jay lets out a slow nod as your lips settle back into their original structure, a small tug on your lips.

"this is also my favorite corner every time i go here." you continue even with the few seconds of silence between the two of you. "it's dark enough that people can't see you even with one glance and it's not near any of the most populated area of the club." a regular, jay assumed, but he never saw you here before. jay does have a few places he frequents with his friends. clubs aren't his thing even if he visits them often—he prefers to hang out underneath the bridge on the side of the han river—but this is where the gang hangs out the most. a base camp of some sort. though he rests in the shadows, he could still recognise people whom he often views. but with the way your eyes are flicking around the vast chromatic space outside of the corner, you still are confused about the layout of the place. you're not a regular at all.

"though when you like standing idly in the dark, there might be someone that notices you're here…" your voice trails off, realising that you were talking to him, implicitly asking if what you said was also true to him or not. his eyes catch yours as you let your fingers rest beside you, a rhythm created from your fingertips meeting the wall while you exhale and inhale in a slow beat. eyes closing as you lick your lips. the wrinkles between your eyebrows reacting as you were thinking of something, but the way your chest sometimes still staggering in between your calm flow sets an alarm in his mind.

that's when jay heard more shuffling feet than usual around the bar and booths.

his eyes settled on his friends as they all seemed to notice it too. the girls hanging by their sides all cower closer to them as the crowd around the bar stools is still as full, but when it usually moves like the current of the river, now becomes more tense—even he could feel that by looking at their stiff shoulders. his lips pop from tasting the residue of the cigs as his eyes focus on the crowd moving unnaturally. someone must be pushing people around to go past the crowd. squinting his eyes, he could see a group trying to push towards the location where he and you are. and a glimpse of the top of the head is enough for you to grab something the nearest to you: his wrist.

the breathy sound comes back as jay looks at your darkened silhouette, eyes staring at the dispersing crowd. sensing it, you turn to him as you try to compose yourself. but the way your eyes glisten from the spotlight highlights more moisture near your tearducts that send alerts to his consciousness. still frantically looks away at the crowded space, but he sees how your jaw clenches.

"take me out of here." your sight returns to meet him and that's when he fully sees the darkness inside you. not the evil nor the lustful kind. but another intense feeling.

"please…"

fear.

jay reacts as he brushes your hand off his wrist before clasping it with his palm, fingers curling as he drags you outside into the colourful shine. the unexpected movement doesn't hurt his eyes as he sees all the colours blurry. hands locking with yours, he let his feet navigate the outskirts of the dancing crowd, stepping in front of people who were also standing by the wall. some recognise him and some aren't as he gave a small knowing nod with his resting face. his eyebrows furrowed as he saw the doorframe beside the jockey's booth. the lights were flickering on and off, but only people who recognise it can see it—even though it's obscured by the absence of the light.

your body felt light even if he dragged you, quickly adapting to his pace and the path he was taking you. your ears are getting more and more buzzed as the boy drags you closer to the speakers. but even with the bass booming, your eyes still look behind you as you catch the pair of eyes you don't want to see.

"(Y/N)!" though muffled by the music, you can still hear him scream your name as you push the boy forward, making him stagger before you return his icy gaze with your concerned ones.

as they both reach the doorframe, jay quickly wraps your shoulder with his arm as he guides you to the hallway filled with graffiti and a few people making out against each other. his eyes only saw one thing: the door with the neon green exit sign on the top. the back entrance was what the employees used, but he and his friends knew about this after they scouted the nearest exit if a police raid happened—which he had escaped from a few times. the employees doesn't even bat an eye at him as he knows how much he and the gang has spend on this establisment ever since this became their hangout spot, some of the women even give him a sly wink knowing something he subconsciously know after observing his booth so much and the girls hanging out there—thinking you were one of them.

the fresh air was a taste he missed as he stepped onto the alley right beside the dumpster. the exterior lights of some businesses don't reach deep into the alley, so they can let both of you stand and blend into the shadows. but that is still not enough when you recall the person you escaped from was following you. then, the person is definitely gonna know about this back exit.

"do you have any trans-transport?" you're holding onto your chest. "fuck- don't mind it. the subway station is near here-"

"my bike is this way." eyebrows raised, you didn't expect him to reply while jutting his chin to the road where the front door is..

the boy's voice is gravelly–influenced by the cig, but it is definitely his regular voice—but it doesn't seem as cold as his demeanour.

it's warm.

maybe the warmest voice you've heard in a while.

jay didn't see the strap of the black bag across your chest before he heard the familiar rumbling, even with the muffled song inside behind the walls. he took the initial steps when he heard your shuffling feet on the same pace as his as you both walked towards the shining neon lights decorating the street. people walking to and fro as he and you blend in perfectly under the white lights of the streetlamps. his eyes peek towards you as he can now fully see you with the light. beside the hair that covers your cheek, he can see the small strip of bandage on the cheekbone area, a scar across the bridge of your nose, and a faded bruise on the corner of your right lip. he chuckles to himself as he stops his hand before rubbing against his own bruise on his left cheekbone—a result of an altercation he had yesterday, the usual gang thing that seems so simple yet all of the people are stubborn. he also seems to be so when he can still feel the scabs on his knuckles to punch the guy that punched him before sunghoon took care of the rest.

both of you aren't that different after all.

your eyes stare at the rows of motorbikes before the boy sets his eyes on one of them. the black color of its body reflects who he is perfectly as you see him tugging his black outer closer to him, untying the black bandana tied on the handle as if to tell people that this specific bike belongs to him. the adrenaline is still flowing in you as you see him pulls the bike backward and straddles into the leather seat. the way his long legs anchor the bike to the ground as he stabilises himself, tying the bandana behind his head and covering the lower part of his face, leaving his eyes visible. the lights at the parking area shine on him and you now notice streaks of navy blue highlights on his hair. it looks like he dyed it without having to bleach it up, making it so that only people who have a keen eye can detect the two different colours.

"the name's (y/n)," you spoke out. the boy turns his head towards you when you tilt your head.

"guess i should introduce myself before you took me away." your face contorts, the pain on the right side of your lips coming up again as you hold your best to not show him that you are still hurting. the dark is friendly enough to not let people know how battered your face is. even telling people asking about you "i'm fine" is getting sickening as you try to escape people you know, especially those who also know him.

"jay," you pick up as he gazes at you before signalling to the space on the seat behind him. you give a small smile as you pluck a cig out of your own teal-accented box—quickly go into the routine as the spark from the wheel creates the fire that burns the cig before you set it off. jay turns the key to the bike as the rumbling machine turns on and combines with the sound of the vehicles on the street. while you slowly climb up the higher back of the bike, the movement makes you have to adjust your choker and you give him a whisper of "okay" before he pushes his feet off the ground and turns the handle, revving the bike as it lurches down the path and to the road.

the way gravity works makes you have to rest your head against jay's back, feeling his spine even under the layers of clothes as you take another puff of your deadly stick. the smoke flies away quickly by the wind that the speed of the bike makes. it's been a long time since you rode a motorcycle, since the last time you remember was back home when you rode it with your mom behind you, guiding you on how to use it as you tried your best to balance yourself. that was years ago, back in high school, and here you are in the big city. the thrilling rush reminds you of home as you breathe in the clear air, missing the smell of salt in the air that usually accompanies it.

your eyes glance outwards as you see jay driving you both through tunnels that cut through the city, swerving around cars and other slower bikes as you let your other hand grip onto jay's waist. the burning ash flies away from the tip from how fast it is as you continue to smoke—eyes were watering too because of the wisps into them. it's very cool against your skin as the only source of warmth is the body in front of you and the burning stick that is on the verge of dying. in a natural for you, you tug closer to the warmth as your other hand now rests around the front of jay, hoping he doesn't mind it.

signs made of glow decorate the streets as you read the writings on them. bars and restaurants names written in hangul and some in the alphabet make your starving stomach react once again. it didn't take long as the boy stopped the bike on one of the parking lots where many motorcycles park. your head lifts up from the broad back as you see the many plastic roofs of street booths, smelling the tasty aroma flowing through the air. after putting out the cigarette while letting jay finish parking the bike, you rub your palms against your arms to send the friction heat streaming through you. the chilly night's air becomes more and more colder as the moon rises, or maybe it's falling down to the western horizon because of how late it is.

the street has barricades to prevent any vehicles to come in to the perimeter. the bustling sounds of chatters make the block alive as the smell of a familiar fragrance enters your nose, making your stomach rumble once again. jay walks from the parked bike and stands beside you, the bandana now pulled down and hanging by his neck as he also encloses more of his black outer piece. roofs of different colored tents reflect the shine on them as if they exude the colour by themselves. the sound of scraping of aluminium against the wok is harmonising with the sizzling. entering through the small gap between the tents from the parking lot, you were met with the nightly food market. rows of plastic-made tables and chairs stretch through the street to accommodate any customers who are eating. most are definitely adults as you also see a few specks of them bringing their little children—the older children have school for the next day and missed out on the delicious cuisine.

footsteps walking nearly in sync as you and he gaze at the kinds of food being sold here. jay has been to this market before—one of his favourites to buy takeaways so that he can stock up for tomorrow's meal. it's also a go-to place for him to buy food before going to the han river and return back into his shadow; especially if he wants more asian cuisine because the snack bar sells mostly westernised food. hunger still exists even in the blanket of darkness, and with both of them fulfilled at the same time, jay feels like a happier man. while one doesn't expect it, he has a very caring relationship with food. jay could remember the memories of seeing his mom cooking something in the kitchen, like miyeokguk for his birthdays or the occasional kimchi that she's mixing before letting it ferment. he still gets kimchi from her once a month, and even that with white rice is enough for him.

"chinese food sounds delicious," he glances at you as you stare at the blue-tinted booth that is nestled in a building with a protruding tent canopy as chairs and tables fill the area. jay stares at the unrecognisable characters painted on the glass pane—he still can't understand it even after enrolling in a hanja class back in his first year of college.

"if you don't mind, of course," you added and turned to him, eyes meeting as jay naturally reacts with a shake of his head before you proceed towards the cook by the wheeled counter behind the glass. hearing you order what you like, especially with how hungry you seem, earns him an achievement for providing something to you as he stood back. your sight shifts back towards him before sliding diagonally down to the menu as he reads it.

settling down at the empty table overlooking the main street where more food is sold and people are eating, jay finally pulls out his phone to see the sms flowing one by one from his friends. the cut-up words look ridiculous, but definitely helpful when you only have limited buttons and characters on the phone itself. he chuckles as he sees euijoo's message on how piss jake is when he realizes that he was gone without telling him. his fingers press on the button rapidly as he follows the words he's trying to write, pressing the button multiple times to find the right alphabet to use as he types the significantly short message to reply.

1 message received

euijoo - 02.48 am a guy walk into de club n start 2 chase sum1 is dat y u run

jay stares at the blinking line of the text as he exhales before texting a "yes". when he wants to press the send button, his eyes lift up to see you who is putting away your bag on the table. seeing the other side of your face, he could see another bruise there on your right cheekbone, creating a line that connects every wound from one cheek to another with your nose as the bridge. his eyebrows crumpled whilst peeking at how your lips are pursing, but also interrupted with how your teeth bite your lip; almost like a soothing reaction as your arms remain still on the plastic table. your darkened, fearful eyes peer around the area, observing the people who are still eating this late at night while still having that alertness. it's like the person who was chasing you might know where you are going to be in the vastness of the city that is seoul.

scraps of movement on the asphalt road captured his attention as the cook came into his sight with two bowls. a jjajjangmyeon for him and a spicy warm jjamppong for you before he went back to provide you with the water pitcher. your hand reaches for the disposable wooden chopstick, letting him see the scars on your hand under the light of the lamp, but also how frail your hand moves. he couldn't see before under the shadow, but jay can now notice how your hand movement looks stiff—only a little amount of energy is exerted into it. jay can only presume two things: either you are actually tired from escaping the club with him, or you are tired in general. and by the look of your bruises scattered around your body and especially your face, the latter thought seemed to be one that added to the enigma that is you in his mind.

the chopsticks mix the sauce with the noodles as slurps fill the air between the two of you. your breath staggers as you take in the spicy broth, combating the cold that grazes your skin, as he hears how you actually sigh unconsciously. but more of a relaxing sigh, like it is a first in a long time you have had chinese food when it is the most accessible one out there—other than local korean delicacies. your tongue pokes out and licks the spiciness across your lips before biting on the shellfish's meat as he focuses on his noodle and takes a bite. the words forming and places on the end of his tongue as it waits for him to finish this one munch out of the others until he swallows it down and fills his stomach.

"who was chasing you?" the boy's question makes you turn your head to face him, eyes finally finding the bruise on his face; similar to what you have. his sight was looking at the street for a few moments before meeting yours. the coldness seemed to melt, even for just a little bit.

"uhm…" you started, forming the words in your head, "i just had to leave someone. just for the night, though. i think."

your words came out full of hesitation and also thoughtfulness, but it is full of something innocent as well—the little "i think" showing it. yet, his eyes still linger on your bruised lips as he could finally notice the little twitch on your small smile, a spasm from the wound that still looks pretty fresh, with the latest it might be is a day old.

"and, when i left them, i didn't know where to go. i don't know seoul enough to get away from them far. so i just go into the next nightlife establishment that we have also gone to, knowing that they would chase me after."

jay could now definitely pinpoint the innocence in your eyes. eyes that were wandering the night market and observing the many people enjoying their time late in the night, instead of staying in their homes to sleep until morning comes. eyes that were looking around the city as he felt your protruding chin moving around on his back as he could see from the rear-view mirror, turning your head to gaze at the big towering buildings that pierce the night sky.

you are not a seoul citizen—unlike him.

then, your hands are clasped in front of the nearly empty bowl of jjamppong. the warmth of the broth slowly dissipates as only a few more strands of noodles are left behind for you to finish. a whiplash on your neck blooming as you stare at jay, yet you don't mind with the rush of dopamine. the way his bike moves around the streets gracefully tells you that he has knowledge of this city's streets and neighbourhoods more than you know. more than the important subway stops you usually get off at and the apartment you live in. more than the streets full of nightlife establishments you frequent to including the club where you found him.

"maybe, you can help me." your voice echoes as it flows to his ears, a slight pout on your lips, "maybe you can help me get to know more about seoul. i- well, none of the people close to me here have even introduce me to the city properly." there is hint of melancholy in your words right at the end, something that tugs his gut as he listens to your proposition.

your figure left him behind as he gazed at you, pulling out your wallet from your chest bag as you paid for not only your meal, but his as well. the cunning glint in your eyes tells him that he knows why you're doing that—the reason why you are pushing him to the corner as he finally takes in your full body appearance; like you have done things like this before to survive. jay has no choice but to repay you now and as you settle beside him once again, you already have an expectant smile on your face, which he replies with nods. because it would not be a gentlemanly thing for him to say "no".

both of you walk around the streets that are dwindling with humans. all who have their stomach filled with happiness as they return to their homes and take rest. nearing the plot of land full of cars and bikes parked, you found the signs pointing you to the nearest subway station as you turned your figure to face him—taking in his handsome yet stern face for the last time. your saviour for the night as he leaned his hips against his angular motorcycle.

"i was thinking maybe we can meet up here tomorrow night? if you don't have anything to do, of course."

jay's mind reverts to his message from his father—saying that he should actually start thinking of taking a job—involving himself in his family's business that had been paying for his upbringing and that will be his inheritance. yet, he only takes little jobs from here and there instead. maybe delivering invoices from one office to another, picking up stuff to be put in the office and more throughout the day, leaving his night free of hanging out with his gang even in that shrouded corner. but your proposal seemed to hit enough of his free time activity criteria.

he has always been more of a night owl—nocturnal, if he could elaborate more. the nighttime is where he felt the most alive as even the cold air still gets sizzled when the sun's rays hit his skin. and when you say to meet him tomorrow night, he can also add to the list that summarises you in his mind that you are also a night person. it is like you have little jobs here and there in the day to pay for your needs, but can feel free in the night to take in the city and release any pent-up emotion you've acquired in the day.

like what he does.

"i can."

"great!" you say with the corner of your lips lifted, the smile reaching to your eyes before you glance down at your feet, noticing the way your boots nearly touch his. "what time are you available? six? seven?"

"after sunset," jay responds instantly as you nod in understanding. your black outfits match with each other as you nod your head.

"seven it is. okay…" you continue nodding as you lightly bite your bottom lip. as you take a step back, he can feel the hesitation coming from you. it is like you don't want this night to end yet. like you are enjoying his company so much even if he stays quiet most of the time, answering in a succinct manner enough for you to understand.

and he also felt it. like he doesn't want to let go.

"i'll see you tomorrow at seven here." your words create a note to pin his mind as he watches your body stepping away towards the sidewalk to the nearest station. and when his eyes met yours, he could see the darkness all gone—now filled with floating saturated colours that only he could see.

"good night, jay." your smile lingers in his sight as you turn your body around, retracting towards the streetlight on the start of the pavement before you step out of the ray of light and into the shadows of the street against the backdrop of windows on the towers littered around seoul. he didn't realise he had a pout on his face until your silhouette finally blends in with the darkness.

"good night, (y/n)." he finally pushes out underneath his breath, turning to go on his bike and turns the ignition as the rumbling sound fills the air. jay already have a place that he could introduce to you tomorrow night after bringing around: his favourite place ever in seoul and a place that you, a fellow loomer, would also love.

-

the familiar smell of geoje's sea is kilometres away from you now: the place you called home before the metropolitan city swallows you into it. you miss the piercing sun as you step out of your house to find yourself across from the beach. your mom is already standing on the sand when she feels your presence behind her, nagging at you that you woke up late before nudging at the motor scooter that is waiting for you to ride with as she would sit behind you—like always when it comes to saturdays.

yet, the sun now felt more like a past memory. its piercing heat stings deeper than only the surface of your skin, sinking deep into your flesh that you can feel it in your bones. it is now an unfamiliar feeling for you, especially after you moved away from the coast. in the van with the familiar rowdy crowd after your mother had pushed you to take it. take the chance to go to seoul.

"you deserve to also thrive in a big modern city like seoul, (y/n). especially after you got the taste of busan," you remembered her saying after you told her of your new friends' proposition. the ones you met when you were already years in deep to doing your work that you have started ever since graduating high school—just a waitress in a plain eatery that overlooks the coast—when a bunch of boys and a girl came into the empty room. their eyes and thoughts were already pinpointed on you as the girl brought you to sit with them.

"we won't be able to finish it with only the five of us," she said before introducing herself as ningning, then the rounds started. eunseok, sungchan, shotaro, and the most beautiful boy you had ever seen that time with his acoustic guitar on his lap. wonbin: the same boy you were escaping from that night. the same boy that was once so in love with you that you decided to move across the country because you saw a glimpse of a future with him and the other boys that are his bandmates.

even after many ultimatums of breakups that are his fault for the causes—caught him mid-thrusting into a fan that was cheering on him when he was performing at the backstage room after his gig in the pub and music venue you are working in to get your ends meet—he still as adimant to make it up to you. attached; obsessed. time and time again. sometimes with his sweet words but also with his sharp movements, creating the bruises that still sting your face and waiting to repair itself after you helped it with antiseptics. his friends are no different. from sungchan who he is closest with and turns his eyes away and continues playing his guitar even when he could see the frontman flirting on the stage with you who is sitting there across from it, to ningning who allows you to refuge at her place—unofficially moving out from wonbin's unit nearly two weeks ago—and how your story and warnings to her are met with many dismissal.

"i fucking know wonbin longer than you, (y/n). he is the first person that i am friends with when i moved here from china. he is not like that." yet, she is still much more aware now even if it is not at 50% level, espeically seeing your bruised up face and marred skin combine with how you have reiterate to her time and time again: "i don't have anyone to fucking go to in seoul. it is just the five of you. that's why i am telling you this."

and so, your love for the sun is gone as you felt safer in the shadow. it is safer for you to just observe from the crowd as wonbin has a spotlight on him, playing his guitar on the stage, when you go do what you are good at: serving people their drinks, taking in their orders, and maybe get rope in their booth for a drinking game or two. and when it gets too much—as you watched his lazy smile making a bunch of girls swoon like he hasn't got you wrapped around his fingers already—you left for the nearest club from there. a place that he ironically introduced to you after your second night working in the venue. the rock songs are being replaced with hard-hitting techno as you find a corner and light a cigarette. eyes always fleeting towards the front door to see if he notices and chases you or not. because, per his words: "i won't ever let you out of my sight."

but, for the first time in your life, you seemed to gain hope from the darkness that is usually around you.

in that club, the darkness of the corner of you always obscured yourself in has a presence you only notice recently. you thought maybe it is just the void enveloping you, protecting you from the harms you inflict on yourself and other people inflict on you. maybe, that presence has always been jay; steps away with his lit up cigarette and smokes flying out of the corner with yours.

your boots stamp on the stairs as you climb out from the underground subway station, bag slinging around with your movement as your whole outfit lets you blend into the shadows that will be forming more later in the day. the neon symbols that were hollow when you saw them before descending to ride the train are now clearer as the purple takes over from the orange that only has a trace showing at the western horizon. you eyed the familiar hanging signs that you walk past to go to the apartment unit from yesterday night, now heading the opposite way from the station to go to the street that is ingrained in your mind. a hidden gem you will now always cherish when you are searching for a treat.

the smell of cooking food is already sizzling into the air, still enticing even though you had remembered that you had already eaten some food at the convenience store before riding the train. but the expectation of it lets you focus on the street that is approaching. a few steps and you arrive at the opening, watching people eating their food on the tables and chairs placed down between tents of street food delicacies. some of them are in their office outfits—suits, ties, and miniskirts spotted on the tables as they get their fill of dinner before going back home or do something else as the night has only just started. instead of joining them, you head towards another place; towards where people park their private vehicles.

vehicles, from cars to motorbikes and regular bicycles, are all parked there in an orderly manner. some of the cars are parked parallel while the motorbikes are gathered in one place. yet, one stood out. there, with the familiar black and white bandana tightly covering half of his face, stood your saviour from last night.

"hi!" your words bounce out from you, startling both him and yourself. jay shifts his head to face you and nods before looking down to take your appearance: not much different to the clothes you are wearing from yesterday colour-wise. but you decided to wear a thin long-sleeved black top in place of your crop top t-shirt from last night.

"can i get a smoke break first?" you already put your hand into your bag as you heard him hum, opening the pocket as you pull out your cigarette stick and lighter. the click and sizzle enter his ear as your eyes are focusing on the end of the cigarette that is being burned, inhaling to keep the fire on before exhaling along with the smoke. and you turned yourself around and stepped back to stand beside him, leaning slightly against his motorcycle as you took in the scenery that you had also seen not even 24 hours prior. but it is much more crowded—people know that 7 pm is still too early to end the night full of relaxation after a long day, and it is also too early to start yours.

"we're the same age, right?" you muttered out as jay turns his head to look at you. his twitching lips were obscured under his tied bandana mask.

"i'm 21," he replied as you answered, "same then. are you in university right now or..?"

"graduated early. business major. you?"

"no. i am not…" jay peers down to look at the smile you let out, "i don't have the money. it's one of the reasons why i'm in seoul now..." you take a drag from the cigarette, letting it coat your mouth with the familiar taste before you blow the smoke away, "to find them."

he takes in your words and the assumption he made of you from last night. the little jobs you are probably doing, the innocence you have in the metropolitan city you find yourself in—especially at the start of the new millennium—with everything that this city has been going through. it makes so much sense for someone like you to move to seoul to get a job, knowing the many opportunities it has compared to other towns. you are still wearing the choker you wore last night, like it is part of your identity. like it is a way to make you grounded and not be blown out of the way with the many things that happened in seoul. like it is a reminder for you to stay true to yourself.

jay watches as you throw the cigarette away and stomp them with your sole before pivoting to face him. "let's," you speak out, eyebrows raised as you stare into his eyes. behind the bandana, a smirk rises on his face as he signals towards his bike with a small turn of his head. he catches your smile widening as he gets on the seat, turning on the machine that was already plugged in with the key and revving the engine up.

he felt your chin resting on his shoulder as the motorbike swerved around cars and other vehicles in the streets of seoul. the breeze brushes his hair away as he talks underneath the sound of the engine and other noises, words only reserved for you as he points out the many places you both are cruising by. from the city hall area to the eulji-ro, the palaces then to the ever-crowded and bright myeong-dong with the namsan tower standing like a beacon between the hills that encompasses seoul metropolitan area. from the rearview mirror, he finds you examining around the buildings as their light shines on you. an earnest yet also mesmerised look on your face like a child who has only seen the city lights for the first time.

jay also notices how your chin lifts up from his shoulder when the bike glides on the bridge crossing the han river. the river's surface glimmering under the sky, resembling the stars high up above. he doesn't stop, speaking to you of the many neighbourhoods he is bringing you along. jamsil, samseong, and sinsa encompass the affluent district of gangnam, which even makes the boy feel indifferent as he realises the area he is in, making him ride down the hilly road as quick as possible to get closer to the final place he wants to show you. and so, after the whole introduction to seoul, he brought you to his favourite place in the city.

parking the bike in the empty lot, you already step down as you walk towards the snack bar nearest to his hangout place that overlooks the han river. the park area seems to be full of people riding bicycles for their nightly exercise, but his favourite spot is not exactly by the edge of the river. but a bit further in and right under the bridge. the view looks out beautifully on the city's increasing number of skyscrapers, yet he is still in the comfort of the shadows. the other boys also know about this place—their favourite spot to hang out after school before their parents would call them like crazy to get back home. but with their regular appearance at the club now, this place is solely his to claim as he visits much more often than they do now.

jay raises his hand as you walk back with a paper bowl of french fries before he sits down on the metal bench and the table in its set right underneath the bridge where cars and buses drive above them. your figure approaches and looks up, slowing your steps as you take in the massive structure hanging above you, casting darkness on the spots right underneath them before a clear image on the other side shows across from where you stood. your figure sits beside him on the same bench, placing the fries at the space between the two of you as the darkness encases you from above. the shine from the streetlights only shows one side of both of your faces as you nudge your head from your gaze on the bowl towards him—signalling for him to take one. a smile morphs on your expression when you watch him pinch one cut of the fry and plop it into his mouth. you finally let out a huge exhale and turn your head to gaze at the city that you have called home for one year now. yet, a city that is still so full of the unknown for you.

the skyscrapers' silhouettes are darker than the twilight sky—letting you take in the enormous figures in their entirety when you are so far out from their foundation. gazing at them, it reminds you of the silhouette of the cargo ships across the sea that are going to park by the harbour in busan. its huge shape looks small from where you are standing on the sand, wondering just how many of your bodies should stack with each other to know how tall it is. being in front of the skyscrapers makes you feel like you are facing against giants that roam across the soil, especially with the many development of south korea that you have heard so many times from the radio, talks of the older people in your village, and the glance of the newest newspaper that reaches geoje that can be one day late from the message busan has received.

and here you are, sitting beside the boy who only speaks if necessary—knowing even from your short interaction. his spoken words sear into your mind as you match up the view to the names he had uttered on the ride on his motorbike as you leaned against his shoulder; feeling free for the first time in a long time.

"hmm…" you hummed before chuckling, making him turn his head towards you from your peeking. "do you want to know the real reason why i ask you to introduce seoul to me?"

jay's eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, reading onto your face that is as open as ever for conversation—different to the trembling eyes he had seen yesterday. you were much more relaxed. maybe because it is due to your hidden position that only people who take a moment to wait and search will find the two of you. maybe it's because you are not being chased by someone. maybe it's because the shadow is protecting you, to allow you to speak comfortably.

"i'm… searching for a new job," you finally say, a small pout jutting as you tilt your head to face him. "i work in that pub and music venue near the club where we met, working as a waitress and occasionally hostess. i'll be quitting from there as soon as i find a replacement."

the boy sighed beside you as he continued picking up the fries. his body also relaxed as he already guessed that you are buying it for both of you—like yesterday with how you paid for the jjajangmyeon he ate. but when you mentioned job searching, his eyebrows became slightly creased. yet, your sudden smile calms his heartbeat; taking in just how with the slightest crook of your lips, all the worry in him disappears.

"thank you for that. for all of it. i now have some places that i can consider for my next job. hopefully, they're open to accepting me…" you gulped down before staring back at the snack bar where you bought the fries—one prospect of the jobs you are searching for. the men who serve you your food there seem lovely; the dark night outside of their shining boxes doesn't seem to slow them down with their business, as you read that they're going to be closing at around 11 at night. you recalled how the man by the cashier is looking at the man who cooks, a look of adoration in him as they take their business slow and steady. like it is more of a passion job rather than a profitable one.

"you are a seoul citizen, right? local?" the last word is uttered by you to make the question clearer as you see jay let out a smirk.

"born in the united states, but moved here when i was five years old."

"really? that's cool," your voice pitched got higher by the end of your sentence with your eyes openly marvelling at him, especially now with the bandana off as you could take in his facial profile. from his stern eyebrows to his sharp jawline that actually makes his cheeks warm. "since you lived here most of your life, do you have any thoughts about the city? i'm genuinely curious. especially coming from a local rather than an outsider like me."

"an outsider's perspective is more objective in one way," jay started, his words seemingly speaking like an invitation for you to also join in the conversation with your own opinion. his relaxed body now looks more upright as he leans towards the middle where the bowl rests between the two of you on the bench, "one word to describe seoul: convoluted."

nods coming from your head, agreeing to his one-word description of the city you are now in. "i expected that knowing the many narration of the 'miracle of the han river'"—your hands widens in front of you to emphasize the gradiosity of the era—"from the early 1990s to then it came crashing down because of the financial crisis that even my family back in the village is still recovering from." you let out all the buzzword you have seen from the newspaper and the newly printed textbooks your have to share in the classroom. the rising number of conglomerates and how it has evolved the korean economy back when you were in elementary school. the view of the beach from the fishboats you recognised suddenly gains an increase of bigger steel ships—dominating the shore with more coming to import or export to the countries that have agreed for a trade relation. then, the financial crisis you felt in high school, as your mom was more willing to cook you a doshirak rather than give you allowance money to buy food, with how devalued korean won became.

"but, if i want to describe seoul in one word, like you do," you point towards him using your shoulder, "i would probably say dangerous. i mean, the sampoong department store collapse, the one with the seongsu bridge. it shows how people are willing to be reckless to chase for that 'miracle' and cut corners to gain from them, to upkeep their image as best as they could with cost of being not transparent." your sigh hangs between the two of you as you finally made eye contact with him. "to know that i am scared of seoul in an understatement, seeing the trajectory of it all. and also the divide."

"are you sure you don't go to university?" jay's question makes you giggle as you finish another bite of the fry. you reply by shaking your head, confirming to him about your education status.

"i am just someone who is keen to learn about the world. that's all…" you spoke back towards him before letting out the final words you can't seem to stop, "even if i'm lonely doing it."

jay's eyebrows were raised for a second as you realised he must have caught on to what you said. but rather than pointing him out on it, you stayed quiet, and he seems to follow suit. his hand rummages in his pocket as he pulls out the cigarette package, pushing the box towards you, with you replying with your shaking head as you pull out your own box. pulling one stick out of the box, you heard the click beside you as jay's face is illuminated with the warm orange colour of the fire. his eyes look between the dancing flame and then to you as he is holding on to it.

quickly, you bite the end with your teeth as you let the dried leaves burn—remembering how you were doing the same to him the night before. the smoke flew between the two of you, smelling the different flavours of his cigarette compared to yours that blends in. there are only a few fries left between the two of you. yet jay's posture seemed like he was letting you take in the rest of the food.

"lonely is a good word to describe the people in the city. people like us." jay finally lets out, letting the drag of the cigarette fly between the two of you. the scent of his cigarette is much heavier than your own menthol one—the one that even wonbin doesn't know because you only started smoking when you were separated from him. slowly and surely letting it become your friend that spreads warmth inside you, because alcohol will only make you weep your feelings. you understand that the smell will stick onto your clothes, yet you don't care. even with their cons, the smoke warms your body up like a hug. and with that, you both are sitting beside each other, taking in his expression and implications as he does yours.

"i call myself a loomer. people who loom in the shadow and just observe your surroundings." his eyes met yours as he blew another cloud of smoke out—not bothering you at all as you take in the smoke instead with a small smile on your lips. "you are one."

a thin smile comes out from your lips as you track the verisimilitude in his face. to have a nickname given by a person you can't help but respect in many aspects—education, wealth, and socially—feels like an honour. even with his simple description, you understand what he was saying. that even here underneath the shadow that is a bridge connecting people across the han river throughout the urban area: you both are looming in the shadows and taking in seoul from the little shady corner—another shadowy haven to add to your collection that is the techno club as wonbin destroyed sanctity of the apartment you had shared with him before you moved to ningning's.

"i haven't heard of that word before. but it is fitting. i like observing more as life goes on. knowing that people also live their lives and i can learn more about them by just... taking them in one by one." you uttered back, watching how the one side of his face is more vivid because of the light. and because of it, you can see how his left eye is glimmering—a subtle joy shown from your like-mindedness.

and so, you both are taking in seoul with your own paces. small conversation bouncing here and there, but seoul is also the main character of the night. your eyes follow the headlights of the vehicle on the bridge across from where you are; asking the boy beside about who owns the skyscrapers you both are looking at; talking about his insight on the 1997 financial crisis as someone studying economics. these are many discussions you aren't able to have with the likes of shotaro and eunseok, who are focused on the materialistic side of an argument—the sentence "how much does it worth?" peeling your surface one by one when you talk to the main bandmates outside of wonbin. even ningning is much more open to talking about this, even if it is something she dislikes talking about, because it makes her head hot when she hears how your questions are basically peeling every layer like what an onion has.

the wind wisps against your head once again, feeling his warmth even from his back as he had put your arms to wrapped around his waist. the bike weaves through the emptier streets as he moves towards the direction of your apartment tower. different from the last time you rode the bike before, you lay your head on him with one side turning as you take in the scenery. the many signs of business that added more characeter to the street while the building outlines blends with the darkness when the streetlights doesn't reached the top. as the bike continues on the asphalt road, you catch the familiar sets of buildings zooming past—nearing your destination as you eyed jay who is looking at the buildings to find the right one from the address you told him.

"thank you once again," you finally able to say as you stand beside him, his long legs becoming the anchors of his bike to stand steadily as he gazed at you. your hand rubs the back of your neck, feeling the stickiness of the sweat that perspires from your activities with him tonight. said boy looks at you sheepishly, a curt nod given to you as he finally reaches for his bandana and ties it back onto the back of his head.

"here, let me help." your hands move instantly, reaching to smooth down the upper side of the triangle shape of the bandana that covers the lower half of his face. the boy's eyes peering down at your hands before going to your face, his gaze goes straight to you as you pull back, making a distance between both of your figures as you feel the warmth he exudes scattering from your touch. your hands slowly fall down back to your side as you give him a thin smile.

"good night, jay," you say back to him, the same way you did yesterday.

you walked a few steps back on the pavement as he put his hands on the handles, revving the engine up before turning towards you.

"good night, (y/n)," he replied. and with the way you turn your head to look back from your shoulder, even for just a slight movement, he knows you heard his words—unlike yesterday.

his motorbike scurries off into the shadows as you eyed the red shining glow from the brake lights, getting farther and farther away as it turns at the corner to god knows where he would be going tonight. you exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you turned to the apartment building. the flights of stairs are sticking onto the side of the building as the fences barricade you alongside its half-wall foundation and the canopy above you from the weather outside. the gap letting in the night wind that grazes your cheek as you keep up your breathing pace and walk up the steps to the apartment you share with ningning.

with the key between your fingers, you insert it into the hole and turn the lock open when you feel that it is so light. eyes now squinting, the door was unlocked as you turned your head around the hallway to the other doors where the other tenants live. ningning had said to you that she is going to get home late tonight—doing something other than her job—and she left after you. it is either that she forgot to lock the front door or someone is inside. bracing yourself, you turn the handle and step inside the apartment.

"ning?" you spoke as loud as the night lets you with the limited volume, pushing your shoes off as you eyed the front door cabinet to see that her regular pair of shoes are missing, but instead you found a pair of rubber slippers scattered from one side of the floor tile to other by the front door. a familiar rubber slippers you can already guess as his voice continues to confirm it.

"there you are, lover." his silhouette sits on the couch across from the stack of blankets and pillows you folded up that are your set of sleeping items. the minimal lighting coming from the night outside the window, the warm orange lamp on the table nearest to ningning's room and the ultraviolet light hanging nearest to the television shine on the white of wonbin's tank top and turn it into periwinkle. his long hair frames his small face as his bangs cover his eyes slightly—a look that made you fall in love with him in the first place. wonbin's head turns towards where you stand as he lets out a smirk, pushing his body to stand up as your hand reaches for the strap of your bag; curling around it.

"you've not been home for five days now. i did assumed that you were staying at ning's." his voice reaches you as you could feel the bruises on your face tingling. you had unofficially moved to ningning's apartment nearly two weeks ago and yet he only remembered the last five days? maybe, he had also forgotten about the time when you were picking up your clothes to move to ningning's where you had met him drunk and with a girl bent on her hands and knees in front of him in the bed he had called "ours" with you. his blanked out drunkness became harsher as the girl actually watched you two until your body landed on the ground with a few punches landed on your face. the girl's eyes were looking between you and then at wonbin as she scurried away, half-clothed, and bring your out of the apartment unit instead. she bought you two a cup of ramyeon as you both talked about boys and all other things inside the 24-hour convenience store: you never got her name and number when you both seperated at sunrise.

that was two days ago. the reason why you got these faded wounds all across your face and hands. and he doesn't seem to remember it at all

yet, even with the bruises and all, wonbin's voice still affects you, making you remain standing as he walks closer and closer. there are so many reasons why you are enamoured with this certain park wonbin, and his voice was one of them. bright like sunlight but can be deeper when serious, especially when he sings on stage as the spotlight makes him shine more. but you know your relationship with the sun now as it becomes murkier and murkier—like your connection with him that is getting much messier with the many times he won't stop his escapades and his friends enable him to not stop as well.

his hands that have held your body many times, have placed their mark on you, caressing down your curves in a way that is catered only towards his pleasure. but even with the many times you had seen him cheat on you and how nonchalant his friends are, you realised that you still can't live in seoul independently, because wonbin is the main reason why you came here, following him around as he also helped you carve seoul into your life, adding that you can also help provide for your mom back in geoje also—a mom that wants to think and live big. and that, without him or his friends who could also support a more ideal person than an outsider like you, you would be homeless.

his hand reaches up and caresses down your sleeve-covered arm, feeling the shivers growing across your nerves as he steps closer to you—letting you feel his breath against your skin. but your eyes remain still and only look at one point, which is his chest in your vision. the touch felt so familiar and soft, not the same touch that hit you down on the ground and blooming splotches of darker colours on your face. in his mind, you know that that version of wonbin and this version of him before you are the same person. but if they are, why does your heart recognise his touches and obscure the version that wounded you? like it is telling you that yes, the wonbin before you is the wonbin that you loved. your wonbin. not the one that was hitting you to the ground. not the one that was chasing you down yesterday night.

and yet, when he lifts your gaze with a hand on your jaw, your eyes meet his and you can't help but compare his eyes with jay's. wonbin's eyes exude something so carefully crafted to impress people, like the deities made him to be an adonis that enamoured the human race. there is a romantic glint in his eyes—a look that shows the person before him that he cares for their being. but his eyes seem so superficial when you look deeper and longer. unlike the way jay looks at you with his stare that is much sharper and darker. more brash and yet, jay's gaze seemed warmer.

then, he moved his head to the crook of your neck, his grip moved to hold around your wrist. you blinked slowly, letting the familiar sniffing session come as he couldn't even bear to smell the scent of another person on you. his possessiveness is showing—something you can only pinpoint as the mask is slipping down more day by day.

"since when did you smoke?" he replied after sniffing the scent on you. the scent that you conceal yourself in—coping with his behaviour by taking as many smoke breaks in the back alley of the place you are working as you can, especially when he is performing on stage and openly flirting with the audience; not knowing the boundaries of his on and off-stage personas. chuckles bubbling from you as you sense him moving around your figure. you peek from the corner of your eyes as you are met with his dark, wide eyes staring at you. his puffs of breath create a pattern as he sniffs you more—now on your hair.

"like you care…" you say, so exasperatedly. wonbin doesn't like it if you are giving him "the attitude", as he usually calls it. but you really, really want to spite him by opening your bag and pulling out a cig for you to light up and smoke in front of him—blowing the steam towards his smug face. but you felt how his heat gets closer and seeps into the fabric of your top from how close he is standing. shivers still running as it forms across your spine involuntarily until he lets go, and then replaces it with the way he lifts your hand that is wrapped in his.

slowly, he moves his head and you feel him sniffing down every patch of your skin, starting from your covered wrist. wonbin's hums signal to you that he could smell the tobacco clearly. your palm begins to sweat as you clench your hand with him holding onto you tightly and unmoving, to set you straight as you gaze the other way from him instead. then, you feel another of his hands touching your waist on the other side—his warm palm resting at its rightful space to hold you still. to hold you so you wouldn't leave like the previous two weeks. and just then, you remembered what you said to him: "like you care."

when you feel the tip of his sharp nose trail up your arms, your thoughts about wonbin start to waver. does he really care for your well-being this whole time, like he does when he asks you to come with him? his presence is your safe haven in the scary and cold atmosphere of seoul when you came here, and how you follow along with his movement—because you trust him so much. wonbin has always been possessive over you, especially when someone has their eyes landing too long on you as he glares at them before bringing you into his proximity. but those rose-tinted glasses were gone. openly sniffing your figure felt too much—like he doesn't trust you when you should be the one not trusting him—yet you are here, wrapped around his fingers once again as his sniffs approach your bicep and his other hand moves to hold your hip.

then, the kisses start. wonbin's trails them up your obscured muscles to your shoulders as your body tenses even more. your senses ignited as he pressed closer to you—letting you feel his growing bulge when his hips brushed against your backside side which made your eyes dilate. his other hand moves to the front as he presses down on your lower tummy, closer to your core that he had claimed. your eyes peeked behind you and trembled in confusion. is he actually serious? is he wanting you again? after many months of him ignoring you while you take care of him, he finally wants you. wonbin's kisses trail your exposed skin on the collarbone like a train track with its clear destination. his destination: approaching the crook of your neck.

you felt the plush of his lips finding the skin of your crook, pressing right underneath your leather collar as you had to blink slowly, taking in the sensation you hadn't had in a while—the one that he usually induces. your tense body starts relaxing in his touch. but then you felt his other hand on the front of your neck, holding onto the clasp of your choker.

everything snaps back into you in the blink of an eye.

power flows through as you finally able to push your limbs away from him, pulling away from his embrace you used to love as you turn around to face him. one hand on your choker as the other on the place where he presses near your nether region—covering yourself away from the intimacy you had shared with him. because now: he is a stranger.

you shake your head, gazing at the man you loved and how you felt the shivers slowly turning to dread. gazing in wonbin's eyes, his eyes that were dark and full of lust, slowly changes. the creases on his face transform as he stares at you—the eyes from two nights before when you openly resist him. the look that you recognised has been lingering beneath the surface every time you caught him in the act and how he doesn't even stop.

"what the fuck?" he said, so menacingly that it made you retreated your steps. you gaze at his empty hands that are now clenched. the veins you had adored when you saw him playing the guitar now look like a characteristic for a side of wonbin that you don't like to see. then, he lifts it up quickly, making you flinch away as you hesitantly look at the front door that is now behind him.

taking quick breaths in succession, you push him with all your might as you run to your shoes, quickly slip into them when your eyes look to wonbin's body, who is rising up from the floor because of your force that knocks him. your figure was already shaking and you didn't even care that you hadn't tied your laces as you opened the unit's door and ran down the hallway.

"you can't get away from me, (y/n)!" he shouted behind you as you continued looking forward. your bag bounces beside you as you swiftly take steps down the flight of stairs—his footsteps still chase after you. your breath is staggering as you try to skip a few spaces of the floor to make your distance farther, nearing the entrance of the apartment tower as you finally push away the door. wonbin's footsteps still pursuing you as you could see his figure from even a tiny glance behind your shoulder. your head turns to the numerous ways you could go as you let your feet bring you away.

your stomps are heavy against pavement in the dead of night, running and running as you still give as much space to how your feet landed on the ground so you couldn't step on your laces and tumbled to the ground to then be captured by him. you don't care if you are jaywalking when the road is empty. you just want to get away from him as much as possible. the darkness quickly surrounds you as you pick the road most obscured, hopefully concealing you from him as you could still hear his steps behind you. you don't want to look back—not like this—as you ran as fast as you could. all of the food you ate last time burns up as you take turns in the dark streets and never look back.

you don't know which road you are taking, but the neon signs become your lodestar as you follow them along. finding a large multilane road that still has vehicles on the road, you press the button to cross to turn it green numerous times. wonbin's footsteps haven't been ringing anymore, but you still felt him so near that you had to push yourself to move again. the lights now radiating on you as you could see your black sleeves having a blue tint on them because of the glow. then, your eyes find the shadows of people across from you: a crowd. a busy street even this late at night. and as the walking man light turns green, you push to jog down the crossing and join the group.

lights then welcomes you as you run up the incline, remembering the road before you, as the road you were driving past when you were with jay. the neighbourhood of myeong dong greets you properly after the brief introduction from the ride on jay's bike. many signboards show advertisements of numerous establishments, such as stores that are still open at this time of the night. your vision lets you observe the many people—more are local than outsiders—but they still create a crowd that you can blend in and lose his presence from behind you. this is the first time in a long time that the nighttime lights save you as you get yourself deeper into the street and the large crowd that gets denser.

your legs are burning after running as fast as possible, pausing your body as you could feel your legs trembling before you brace yourself with your hands on your knees—bending down as you take in deep inhales. finally turning around, the crowd had obscured you from wonbin enough that you could finally stand still and take in the scenery of the bright neighbourhood. you know that you had lost him blocks ago. but when you couldn't see his long hair and white tank top, relief spread across your body as you graze your neck once again, feeling the choker safe and sound. spinning around, you read the signs as you try your best to find the best refuge from the night. that is when the golden arches with the red background and the sign that says 24 hours caught your attention.

dragging your feet against the ground, you approached the entrance way to a mcdonalds. the logo hanging is on top of the exterior above the door as you peer into the glass window to find that it still has a few people eating there. the rumbling in your stomach reacts as you recognise the sign that tells you the menu items. and in resolution, you nodded your head: hoping that this is the refuge that will keep you safe, even just for tonight.

-

the familiar darkness now covers jay in his rightful place once again, taking in the flowing sonic waves from the speakers that are playing songs coming from the uk trance scene as he could feel how his head is droning alongside the elongated melody of born slippy by underground. taking another drag of his third cig of the night, he nods his head to the thumping beat as he gazes back at his friends who are doing their own shenanigans at their regular booth. seeing them already in a trance of alcoholic bottles scattered on the table with the regular girls sliding into their arms. but he couldn't help but be thinking of you.

the next day, after the day you and he rode around seoul and went to his spot under the bridge, he went back to the street food market—buying some food to fill in his fridge and put on the dining table—and he was hoping to find you there again. the bandana he wore the day before is now gone from his face and rested as a scarf, letting his eyes peer to the street where the underground subway station is located—the same sidewalk he saw you go back and come from when you two met up. but, after an hour of idly standing against his bike, he realises you aren't coming with a scoff coming out of him. and so, jay walks through the crowded pathway full of people buying and sending foods to the tables towards the chinese food street vendor that you both ate from, making him eating there alone as his eyes continue to be alert of your presence—still hoping that you would come as he waits for his takeaway orders to be finished.

it has been a week since that day and he has never seen you again throughout that week. jake had been the one noticing how fidgety jay has become. his friend observes how his eyes are looking at the view of nighttime seoul across the river for far too long—ignoring the food scattered on the metal table—when he feels jake's presence sitting beside him. and one by one, the others start to notice. how jay's quietness is different from the quietness they are used to; because jay's usual attention will still remain at present time when he listens to his friends talking about their college drama with the people he had encountered with before in some part of his life while taking in a drag of the joint nicholas had gotten for all five. yet, jay's attention is elsewhere. that is when euijoo was the first one asking the question that has been written at the space in front of the rest: "are you thinking about the girl that you were running away with?"

and for the first time in their friendship, he hesitated to let out a direct reply. thinking for a few moments more, even if he answers with just a few nods.

after taking a breath, jay let the heavy bass drummed into his ears as he could feel the wall shake from the frequency waves. his burning stick is getting shorter and shorter as he inhales more, making the fire spread closer towards his lips. then, he heard it. the sound he had expected to hear from the past week when he was standing in this very corner.

the sound of a click makes him rotate around as the orange flame blazes up and your facial features appear—glowing from the little source of light before it. your eyes dart up from the flame, greeting him with one look as you let the end of your cigarette between your lips get burned whilst also inhaling, taking in the smoke as he glances at your face. the bruises and strip bandage are now gone as he can finally scan your natural and healthy appearance. yet, he could actually see clearly how your under-eye circles were getting deeper into your skull. that was the last sight that he etched in his mind as the flame is gone with one blow with your lips.

jay's eyes adjust back to the darkness as he can still see you—and you to him. he peers down to still see the reflected silver buckle across the width of your neck: your choker necklace is still on as it becomes something that he will pinpoint about your appearance every time. but your outfit is much more casual, a t-shirt that is a perfect size for you, which doesn't press down on your skin. but also a jean pants that blends in with your top with its dark colour. taking another drag from your cigarette, your eyes met his as he noticed how you were letting out such a soft frown from your curving lips.

"where-"

"i'm sorry for not reaching out," you said in only a whisper he could hear. the smoke coming from your burning cigarette decorates his view as he throws the end to the ground and crushes it once again. yet, the slight spotlight grazing the corner where both of you stand lets him gaze at your features once again. the frown slowly morphs into a smile—a reassuring smile.

"i got a new job though." words come from you as another inhale of the poison lacing your stick as you drag it so deep, some come out from your nostrils before you let your mouth agape, letting the smoke out before blowing the rest. in a way, jay had felt calmer than before. that whatever he did days before—ever so minimal but still in the spirit of concern about you—goes away as he watches you become seemingly happier in return. it is like you have let go of some weight, even if he could detect a few hypothetical ones that are still doing a balancing act on your shoulders. nevertheless, the way your eyes twinkle as you told him makes him feel a sense of pride that you are sharing—a thing that repays every time you pay him food and his action of helping you run from the unknown person that was chasing after you.

"this calls for a celebration," your voice rang out as you peer once again at him, his lips pursed; contemplating your simple proposal. jay's eyes go to the booth where his friends are sitting, noticing jake already looking back when he nudges euijoo beside him: the ones who had directly asked him why he hadn't come to the club recently and know about who you are, even from the short sentences jay tells about you. smiles stretched on both of their faces as they moved their heads in sync—communicating with him in nonverbal gestures visible from where he stands.

jay's head turns towards the back exit beside the dj booth. the trance music continues whirring in a basic instrumental as people are still taking a rest from the beat drops and breakdowns. he returns to face you before pointing at the doorframe with his chin. "take the lead," his gestures said, making you put out the cigarette on the wall beside you. with a brush of a hand that he captures so messily, jay follows your movement as you brought him down the back exit once again. your head turns on a path hastily—seemingly remembering the path down the halls to find the door with the green exit sign. the breeze hits both of you when you open the door, eyeing the alleyway as you retrace the steps that you were taking last time—now with jay towing behind you.

his kawasaki ninja is parked perfectly with no other vehicles parked near it. jay's stride becomes wider as he reaches the bike first, as only a few of your curved fingers are connected with each other. rummaging his pocket for the key, he is one step closer to mounting the vehicle when he hears the sound of quick steps—making him pause when you stand between it and his figure. jay tilted his head at you before scanning through your nervous yet determined face. that twinkle in your eyes is still visible as you pivot your head to the side when you catch onto the motorbike's figure.

"can i control your bike?" your request is simple, but when he starts to let his doubt show, you continue your words. "i ride them back home ever since high school. though i am used to riding scooters, i think i should still be able to find my balance with it." your head gives a small nod at the vehicle behind you.

jay could see the wonder in your eyes that was being blended with a tinge of melancholy as you asked your question. he remembered your words about work, about home which you haven't mentioned where exactly. but, it is your celebration when he voluntarily follows you. he also has a role that helps you get a job now, and this is your way of saying thank you. and so, he walks around you and mounts the bike, pushing the key into the hole. but when you turn around to face him and expect to hear the ignition starting, he kicks the foot peg up and scoots a bit back whilst balancing the bike; leaving the front empty space for you.

"come," he says, eyeing you as you let out a smile when you didn't expect it. slowly, you climb in front of him very awkwardly until both of your feet are on each side of the ground and balance the bike perfectly. the engine roars when you turn the ignition key as you hold the handlebars, familiarising once again with the feeling before you push the bike and turn the handle—letting the bike lurch into the night's streets.

as you lean forward near the gas tank, hands holding tight onto the bars, the velocity makes jay have to lean against you. it feels rare for him to be in the backseat of a bike—especially being the only one among his friends who ride them because they prefer sports cars. so, he gently places his chin on your shoulder; not only because he wants to see how you are handling his bike, but he wants to hear your giggles clearly. the wind brushes both of your hairs back as you follow the lines of the road, even though you can also swerve from the left to the right lanes because there are no other vehicles on the road. then, you eyed the tunnel at the front as you twisted the handle more, feeling another kick from the engine as the bike went into the opening. the growling machinery bounces against the long walls as he observes how your eyes are peering out on the street. his hold on your waist is becoming a little tighter and you don't seem to mind it

then he realised by the euphoric look on your face as you take streets after streets of just sightseeing: you don't know your destination. you still don't know seoul's streets like he does, even with the public transport you are using, which only brings you to certain neighbourhoods that have heavy pedestrian traffic. and so, jay leans into your ear and says, "there's this bar i sometimes go to. do you wanna go there?"

"tell me the path to go there," you reply with a higher volume as he knows that you felt his nod beside your own head.

the night embraces both of you as the lights decorate it. from the business signs to billboards—all have their power on under the raven sky to capture people's attention. but jay's attention is on the street before him and you who is driving the bike. he signals with his voice by your ear on the streets to divert to as you follow along, tailing behind a bus before taking a turn on a smaller street. the bike sounds bounce against the buildings around as the lights here are more subdued. the bike is getting farther and farther from the main streets. and he signals you to the side as you see the small parking lot.

he is the one who steps down from the bike first as you push the foot peg down and turn the key for the ignition off. mounting off from the seat, you let out a big whoop as you tidied up your ruffled hair that is blown by the wind, hearing chuckles coming from jay when he watches your joyful exclamation. slowly, you stand close beside him and tuck your arm with his—letting him take the rein once again.

jay brought you towards the door that blends in too well with the grate that covers the closed small businesses around it. a security guard nods at jay—recognising the boy—and you, who is his plus one, as he pushes inside. dim lights outline the path of where you both are going as you both trek into what looks to be a small and dark bar. an orange light shines around the bar area as you both take a seat on the stools there. the lights shine on jay's side profile, the shadow casting on his sharp and angular face perfectly as you take in his jawline while he is talking to the bartender on what he would like to order before he turns to you.

when his eyes are on you, you can feel how your heart is pulsating. his cold gaze to others is warm to you—like a flame being lit up that attracts you like a wanderer in a dark forest walking closer to a burning campfire. it feels like a refuge, a refuge you could trust yourself to be comfortable with after the past days where you had to gather most of your things and move them away to a location that ningning, and especially wonbin, doesn't know. tiring away your days and nights from practising with your bosses on how to work the ice cream machine and how to deep fry stuff—helping them with their businesses until late at night and even until closing time.

"i'll go with the same," the bartender nods at your impromptu response when you realise that you took too long to answer the question. and with him leaving, you and jay remained there quietly. the place is bustling with mostly the sound of music playing that is nearing the end—but it is a place meant to be used to socialise quietly, unlike the pub you worked at before or the club you and jay meet. there is a shine of uv lights on one side of the room that makes it purple, creating a beautiful contrast with warm orange light. as you heard the song vibrating around the room, you glance around to find a bright jukebox near where you are both sitting—the sound coming out from it.

the bartender set down the glasses of daiquiri before you both as jay's head shook rhythmically whilst listening to the jazz song playing from the jukebox. you pick up the glass and immediately take a drink as you feel the icy liquid freshen you up, looking at the beverage glass you sip from before turning towards jay, who is only onto his.

"ah, sorry," you push the glass to meet his with a little clinking sound as you reply with, "cheers."

jay blinks his eyes, but he grows a smirk on his face before taking a sip of his own daiquiri. you both were sitting there peacefully, even though it seems that you two are in a more casual outfit than the other patrons look like. the bar does seem to be more or less like a speakeasy would look like—hidden with not many people knowing to keep that exclusivity. with the brashness of the pub and music venue you frequented for work or to gaze at the performing band, this is the place that you've been searching for to mix up your nights. a place that lets you drink, but still lets you think alongside it. abling you to think about everything you need to figure out in your life, especially with your relationships and all. to, at least, balance them all as best as you could.

"(y/n)," the deep voice calls for you as you glance at jay—his face already fronting yours as you see his irises flickering up and down, taking in you clearly with the better lighting. "why'd you need a new job?"

the question is so profound for you, as with only a number of people here you personally know in this very city, they never ask you about many of your reasons for decision making. why did you move away? why did you join them? what will you do? your beating heart continues as you think of your answer, a succinct yet understandable one.

"well," you lick your bottom lip. "as you know, i'm not from seoul. i'm from a little island near busan called geoje, and uh…" you let out an exhale, "i moved here to help get money for my mom. my dad passed away when i was still in middle school, so she is the one taking care of me until i graduated, while taking jobs here and there. and when i had the opportunity to go to seoul, she pushed me to do it. and here i am now." nods of your head ended your words as you take another sip of your cocktail, letting the alcohol buzz you. your hand gestures an open palm to him—an offer for him to continue the conversation.

"you know that i'm a business major. it's because my family owns a business here. logistics." you look to his eyes, the way they scrunch alongside his nose. "we're not chaebols, though we do work with them. but honestly," he shakes his head before peering back to you, "i don't really like that side of the social world."

you scoffed as you play with the rim of your glass, tracing around it that you can already guess costs a huge amount of heat temperature to shape them. "funny how different we are economy-wise. yet here we are, in this chaos that is seoul. running around nocturnally because the day stings us."

eyes looking at how his smirk widens and nods his head as he agrees with your words—letting the bar's atmosphere swallow you into its depths. your stool had scooted closer to him, letting your forearm which is resting on the counter brush against his. you noticed how his knuckles have scars on them and the calluses on his fingertips that is so familiar to wonbin's. those fingertips were the ones you noticed on him when you first sat down at the table with the rest of the five during your slow shift at the eatery, brushing your fingers against wonbin's unconsciously as your marred hands join in with each other's. and you do so with jay.

your fingers reach between his, brushing the calluses on his fingertips as you feel the electric spark. none of you are talking about anything as the silence clasps you both—talking isn't really the defining part of your relationship when you can understand his intentions just by gazes and non-verbal gestures. then, you felt it. how his fingers are also moving to brush against yours, slotting themselves between your fingers before curling against them: locking you into a small yet assuring embrace that tells how he is there for you—no matter how unconventional.

senses heightened as you felt his warmth transfer onto you, but you can also feel how your heart is clenching because of the familiarity. your acute hearing now makes you realise that the music had stopped, making you glance towards the jukebox as you let go of his small embrace; startling the boy when you stand up and stride away from him.

with a hand inside your bag, you walk by to see the jukebox's intricate design. a line of vinyl discs waiting to be picked as you pull out the coins and plunge them into the coin slot. the machine whirls on as you see the lights by the number pad. randomly, you pressed down a number as you see the machine pushing out the disc you pick. a metal hand picks it up and places it on the turntable, seeing it spins as the tonearm moves above the vinyl disc and pushes down—letting the needle read the grooves on the disc as you read the spinning album name in the middle while a loud guitar melody plays.

the beatles' rubber soul.

you have heard of the beatles numerous times because of wonbin. many times he had said that the beatles is his favourite band of all time, but he only had three of their albums. rubber soul is not one of them. yet, the sensation of how you are trying to forget about your ex-boyfriend instead is being torn down when you hear the familiar voice of paul mccartney. and combining that with how tipsy you have gotten from the near-finished glass of your daiquiri, you knew that you needed to get out of this place and get out of that space your ex-boyfriend brings you every time an item reminds you of him.

get out to run from ever thinking of everything as wonbin even when you are not near him—physically and emotionally.

and so, you run. the sound of someone's voice calling your name brushes away from the gush of speed as you retreat the steps you have gone through, climbing up the flight of stairs with floor lamps on each side of the path before being met with seoul's cold night atmosphere once again. with your tipsy vision, you are attracted to one side of the road where the lights are shining bright. the nearest subway station should be that way as your feet brought you towards it in auto-pilot—like a moth flying to a flame that is getting brighter and brighter with blue fire—much more attractive but also more dangerous. tears are free-falling down your cheeks as you mentally slap yourself on why you are thinking about wonbin when you are with jay.

you should be fucking ashamed of yourself. jay doesn't deserve someone like you, who can't even separate your ex-boyfriend from yourself.

footsteps are chasing after you—reminding you of when you escape from your apartment tower before wonbin ever catches you—and with a surge of adrenaline kicking in your tired self, you push yourself to run. but the footsteps behind you were quicker and you felt yourself being enveloped in a full-on embrace. the quiet cries you were letting out, turning into wails as you hold onto that memory, the boy that you once loved now hunting you down throughout the city as you feel more and more unsafe. that is when you heard jay's voice coming from your right ear.

"i'm here," he spoke only to you as your head lulls, body trembling whilst he holds you upright. lifting your hands up, you cover your face and let the dark consume you once again. yet, his hands don't let go. every touch on your body that reminds you of wonbin is all being cleared by jay, especially when he scented you that night. you turn around his arms and wrap your own around him, feeling his broad shoulders as you hide your face into the crook of his neck. jay's hand brushes down your spine in a soothing way—the same way your mom gave you when you hugged her for the last time before joining wonbin and his gang in their van on your way to seoul.

even if jay was looming over you like a shadow, his embrace feels like a blanket against the cool temperature. you brought your head beside his ear, whispering, "bring me to the spot under the bridge," and you felt him nod against your shoulder.

riding behind him once again, your blurry eyes take in the seoul streets as you hold onto him tightly. your trembling body becomes unnoticeable in the velocity of the ride as the lights then go out of your vision and are replaced by the streetlights as the road goes downwards from the hilly areas. the glimmering highrises look like stars from far away as the bike arrives at the parking lot of the river. you eyed the snack bar near the pathway beside the river's edge as you stepped down from the bike and rushed past jay towards the bench under the bridge, finding solace in being undetected as your body continues to shake.

jay follows you as your hand leans on the metal table before bringing you to sit on the bench, hands finding your waist as he lets you snuggle into him once again. under the bridge, you both sit there as the void of the night tells you both how alone you are. under the vastness of stars, light, and raven-colored sky, you only have each other.

he felt your hand lift off as jay turns to look at it, moving towards your neck as you tug on the choker that felt more tightening than ever. so, jay reacted; brushing your hair aside as he found the clasp that looked like a belt buckle and gently took it off. you take a huge inhale when you feel the tightness off of your neck as he pulls it into his palm, making you turn your head towards him with his free hand on your jaw. jay looks downward at the neck, checking for any marks on your neck that are a sign of the accessories being worn too tightly. instead, he found a mark that rested in the middle between the two edges of the choker; the colour of the skin is different from your natural tone. the line is small across the middle of the neck, but it's wider nearest the middle. then, with his widened eyes, he realised what the mark meant.

"i haven't been truthful with you," you can now say as you watch his eyes focused on the mark left behind on the column of your neck. the memories—remembering your trembling hand as you hold onto the kitchen knife against the skin, ready to end it all. slowly and slowly, letting out your truth, understanding that you are comfortable to make him know.

"i worked at the pub with the music venue near the club, where my ex-boyfriend performs. he was, is…" you shake your head as jay moves to cup your face, brushing your tears away as you didn't realise more of the fat drops coming out. "i don't love him anymore. yet, he is still stringing me around, giving me hope and breaking it all the time until i had enough. so, i decided to get a new job to leave him behind and i have been going to the club when i had the chance to get away. to your club."

"not my club," he instantly replies.

"you know what i mean," you answered back as he nods—how you refer to the club as the place that you both meet, "but yeah. i'm trying to live my life here and away from him as possible if i could. it also means doing activities at night so that i can't go and find him fucking someone at the venue."

jay takes in your words and arrange them carefully to make all of it makes sense. that you are from geoje who goes to seoul to find a job to help your mom back home, working in a pub where you meet your boyfriend there and he seems to be the cheating type, especially if the mark on your neck means something that he was thinking. his eyes study into yours, dilate with wide pupils as you take in as much of the light as possible from the darkness—the darkness that you deem to be a haven. under his embrace, your presence shakes him so much that he worries about your well-being. he is then being reminded of the scars that bruised your face when he first noticed you, adding that to note when you mentioned this ex-boyfriend of yours. a beautiful face undeserving of being marked that way. and also, to the way you could still understand him even with how minimal he talks, as he only opens his mouth if necessary—information exchange, guidance, greetings, and farewells.

the loomer that jay is now recognises that you are a full loomer like him—to escape whatever life you are living in the comfort of the dark—adding to that is your mindset that he has been piecing together like puzzle pieces, creating an image he can identify. you had lived an interesting he wished he had lived. but there is more to it when all he wants to do is to stay by your side and be with you in the many life-changing decisions you are going through right now.

jay also realises that he has fallen in love with you, that he wants to protect you and become your comfort. it's the reason why he is the one leaning forward first, connecting his lips to yours as he closes his eyes.

the sparks you felt when you brushed your fingers with his now turn into megawatts that could light a huge advertisement billboard when he kisses you. your eyes are still open, staring into his closed lids as you can't believe what is happening. from your mind, even with the encounters you have that can be counted with fingers, you know he isn't someone who expresses his feelings freely. it's the reason why his company—including his ignorance of you when standing in the same corner as he is—still feel as comfortable as ever. because he isn't nosy like other boys who see you as a target. yet, you felt something deeper with him when he wants to help you evade wonbin, when he wants to help you explore seoul and find a job; though you aren't fully open to the circumstances that you are in. something that is so unconditional that you haven't felt in a long time. and here you two are, kissing under the bridge beneath the stars that shine on seoul.

with your heart now beating not out of fear, you close your eyes and move your lips against his, taking in the way he moves as you let him take the lead—eyelashes caressing his and a hand resting on his nape. jay's hands move to cup both of your cheeks so delicately as your lips move to accommodate him. more and more sparks continue to pop and you feel shivers running down your spine. it spreads wider as you sense one of his hands move under your jean-covered thigh, signalling you to move as he pushes you so you could straddle him. the sigh coming out of between your lips makes him push his tongue to greet yours. kisses now opening more as you also try to suck on his tongue. his hands move to splay across your shoulder blades as yours move to brush his hair.

the fresh air skims against your skin when you perceive the coolness of both of your salivas on your lips. jay's head moves downwards, to your jaw and then to your neck. he focuses on there, kissing your scar numerous times from one side to another as you let out a sigh, leaning back to give him more expanse of your skin as you lightly bite on your lip, eyes gazing at the steel bars holding the structure upright above you, before glancing to find the lights on the other side of the path under the bridge. yet, they couldn't distract you from jay who is kissing your scar like crazy. like he is replacing that scar with his kisses instead, and you like it.

pulling him away with a tug of his hair, you push your head downwards as you places your forehead against his. and finally, he opened his eyes. the whites in them are nearly overtaken as he darts up at you, taking breaths to stabilize himself while you gaze into the beautiful darkness of his eyes. you take in jay's scent—the familiar woody cigarette scent now adding to your comfort trigger as you slowly brush his hair with your fingers. your eyes are slowly tearing up as you blink them away, glancing at his temple instead of his face.

"thank you," you state, not knowing what to say with the overwhelming emotions you are experiencing.

"i'm here for you." jay echoes what he said the last time when he embraces you, adding more to the list in your mind that compares him and wonbin. and so, you let out a small smile and hug him fully. his head resting beside yours on your shoulder as his cuddle continues to relax you. yet, the tears in your eyes continue to form and now fall down from the brimming eyelids. jay could definitely hear your sniffers as you felt him squeezing you tighter. but when he realises that the tears that wet his top are because you can now cry cathartically—he was wrong.

from your standpoint, the tears that have been falling from your eyes ever since jay hugs you are definitely full of joy, the first real joy you had felt in this city. but it is also the tears that have a tinge of guilt because you know that this could be the last time you feel his warmth again—you won't be able to when you go home.

-

jay had never been so dependent on his cell phone since the first time he got it back when he was in his freshman year of university the gloomy green hue of the screen stares back at him in the dark as he had always expected your message to come in. in regular intervals like the documents coming in from the fax machine full of reports that he had to scan through. as promise from last week, you had been keeping him up with texts and he to you as well.

(y/n) - 10.55 pm ive dun my shift

words that he could easily decipher, knowing that sms are being counted per character you are sending and the limited keyboard options, such as no apostrophes and periods, unlike the keyboard wired to his computer.

you have always been a part of his life ever since you told him of your job—well, when he discovered your job by himself. his eyes widened as he finds you manning the counter of the snack bar nearest to his regular spot at the han river bank—telling with your eyes that "yes, this is the job i told you about." ever since then, whenever his gang wants to buy food whilst hanging out and smoking joints on their bench underneath the bridge, he is the one that is coming there; letting your presence enter his grace as he points out the orders his friends are wanting from the back of his mind.

yet, you haven't kept up with him anymore today. all constant text you have texted in regular intervals disappears in an instant. the last message sent was from last night, 10.55 pm, when you finished your shift.

he pulls his cell phone out and looks down to find no notification number with your name attached to it, letting the booming techno music enter one of his ears and go out the other. jay blinks slowly, hoping that after his singular blink, he could see your name inside the shaded rectangle and a "1" showing up alongside the word "message received". but none came at all. and so, he leans back against the wall once again. the burning cigarette was nearing the end as he could feel the heat getting hotter and hotter close to his fingers.

as he crushed the cig under his foot, jay thinks back on your words from last week. how he felt something even when you only looked at him in a glance at the snack bar whilst taking care of many orders, to the characters of your message that entered his phone and how it also reflects how you speak in real life. a voice full of curiosity, yet it has a tinge of tiredness as well. his eyes landed on the exit sign above the main entrance. to the establishment you had spoken about near this very club.

for first time in a while, jay voluntarily steps out of his shadowy corner.

the boys also seem to notice it, eyes sticking onto their friend's figure who glides on the floor towards the entrance, moving in tandem with the crowd so he doesn't bump into them, and jay disappears into the other side of the room. the boy's eyes met the bouncer—who looks at him weirdly for going out so early in the night—as he gives a curt nod. he pulls his cigarette box, pushing one of the sticks out as he bites it between his lips. hands expertly moving to grab his lighter as the familiar click rings to him, letting the blunt burn as he peers from side to side—knowing the venue you meant as it is something he had gone past many times. with a step forward and another, he takes off into the shadowy night.

the orange flame on the end of the cigarette tells everyone outside of the vicinity of the shadow of jay's presence. his footsteps clear on the silent asphalt street where most of the people are inside the building; dancing, drinking, and fucking the night away. but his eyes are focused on one side of the road, looking between the entrances of buildings that are closed for the night to scan the ones in between them. from small restaurants to other club entrances.

his eyes landed on one with spotlights shining on the wall, posters of up-and-coming bands plastered there alongside their schedules—seemingly like regular performers as he couldn't see a specific date on the texts. only hours and days. he heard the sound of guitar strums muffled by the layers of walls. jay looks up and down at the entrance's appearance, seeing the name of the pub that you had mentioned before—confirming that this is the place you have talked about numerous times, even if it's not directly named. the security guard at the inside of the entrance stands as jay shows him his ID, before he moves sideways to let him in.

walking through a short hallway, the guitar sounds get louder and louder when he is met with open space. the bar is nearest to him as he looks at the other side of the room to find a performing band standing on stage. a four-person band, two on guitars, one on bass, and one on the drums. one of the guitarists seems to be the frontman with the mic stand erected in front of him as he sings into it—his bright voice constructing a source of light in the otherwise dark room. his hair is long with his bangs floppy near the corner of his lips, making the audience whoon as he swipes it away behind his ear. a smug showing in his face, yet jay's mouth could only taste bitterness.

that guy was exactly like how you mentioned your ex-boyfriend to be.

taking a few steps forward, the stage expands as jay continue to watch the band playing. the frontman playing the guitar so loosely, he couldn't help but compare it to how he plays guitar in his spare time. like it had become such a routine, the frontman doesn't need to exert more of his passion into it. and as the song comes to an end, the band plays a few last notes before ending with a huge ending for a flashy performance. cymbals ringing alongside the guitar chords before it stops, and is replaced by the cheering. audiences' hands raised up from clapping to waving as the frontman flips his guitar behind him, unplugging the amplifier cable before bowing his head to the audience. then he steps away as jay's sight continues to follow his figure. walking to the side of the stage when he finally sees two girls standing side by side. one with a smile on her face and the other has an indifferent expression.

you.

everything that he sees is behind the layer of shadows—ignored by the spotlight that is fixed to beam the stage. the frontman walks to approach you as jay can see your every expression with another step forward. the plain look on your expression is imbued with a little melancholy as you then smile when the boy stands before you. then, he hugs you first, your head appearing by his shoulder as he watches how your arms wrap behind the boy's figure, eyes looking at his head from the corner of your eyes before letting yourself close your eyes. jay's breath hitches as he continues to stare, eyes looking at your face with closed eyes when the frontman pulls back and pushes you again. now: to kiss you.

even from afar, he could see how you reacted. your hands gripping onto his shoulder as the female friend steps aside from the two of you, making him press you against the wall as the boy's body covers most of you. and as the band members collect their money alongside the female who moves away, jay's eyes are still on you as the boy moves you around so he could see the sides of both of the figures. then, he turns you around, pushing his chest to your back as his head moves down to your neck. his hands move to the waist that jay had held before to then as he sees the frontman's hand rising up to your black tank top. the lines on your face creased as jay could see the boy's hands giving a squeeze where your breasts are, making your hands reach up to them.

jay's body is now shaking, watching as you fall into the arms of the frontman—who he now knows is what you claimed to be your ex-boyfriend. yet, an ex should push away whenever they touch you. but you don't?

his eyes become seethingly blurry with how hard he squeezes his hands. nostrils flaring as he watches how you let yourself go in your ex's embrace. he shakes his head. surely not. surely you don't only see him as a rebound? is he a rebound? his heart aches more and more as jay continues to look at your face. the face that has been crying and smiling in his arms is now unfamiliar. that is, until he sees you tilt your head to look straight, opening your eyes to realise the location you are in, before letting them wander and meet with his sight.

the tears start to form instantly in your eyes as you look across to see jay. his nose crunched up as he examined between you and the boy who was groping you. jay nods his head before stepping away to the entrance. a dread made of an imaginary ice-cold water flows down onto your body as you quickly grip and claws wonbin's hand, disgust overwhelming you as you can't believe yourself for falling back once again in his embrace. you were so strong, yet you limp in his arms when you only wanted to be there to say your final farewell—to put this all in closure. to tell him to stop tracking you down again, in the nicest way possible. but it is impossible to do so with him when he still knows that you haven't fully let go of your wrap around his finger.

with a surge of shame and rage, you turned around and pushed wonbin away, staggering him as he was taking more time to balance himself with his guitar on his back. a smirk showing on his face like he knew, he knew what he was doing by taking advantage of you. and, it seems like he knew about the existence of jay, too.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" you screamed, catching the attention of every one in your vicinity. you take a few steps as you point to his chest multiple times.

"we're done and i should've said it yesterday," you said succinctly before walking away from—finally—your ex-boyfriend as you chase down jay's figure that must have been where you were minutes before. hurried walks claim you as you jump and skip towards the entrance and find the front where the performers' posters are stuck. eyes wandering around on the street as you picked up your phone, clicking the button open to press the number listed first in your contacts.

the line rings as you press it up against your ear. bottom lip slowly being bitten as you just want to know where he will be going—scrambling your mind and awaiting for him to pick up the call. it rings longer and longer as you realise he is not picking up and you dropped the hand holding the phone. then, you gaze at one side of the road; the path that you have always recognised when you need to escape this very place. and you run.

shadows surround you with streetlights becoming beacons, yet your feet are stepping onto the clear road swiftly, making the light unable to capture you anyway. you eyed the shiny entrance of the club. the familiar bouncer greets you as you step inside.

techno music makes the room vibrate as you have to wrap your arms in front of you. feeling your exposed shoulders brushing against people's bodies as your eyes are stuck to one corner of the room, a corner so dark to see from the outside. yet, you are very much attracted to it and the boy who resides there.

as you step into the barrier of darkness, his name flew out of your mouth.

"jay?" it rings. bouncing on the corners of the wall as your hand reaches out, trying to feel something warm and sturdy. but, you are instead being met with a rough-textured wall on the side where he usually stands. the side where he is so close to the barrier of the corner, the dj booth becomes a background of your view of him. panic began to show up as you turned around to look outside of the shadow, eyes seeing the booth with faces that you had recognised from meeting time to time in the past week. jay's friends.

as you approach, you see two of them making out with girls who are sitting on their laps. another wiping their nose of powder, and the one by the edge of the booth holding onto his glass full of vodka with coke on the melting rocks. his eyes, as well as the girl that snuggling beside him, look towards you when you approach.

"(y/n). right?" the last guy you noticed asks.

"yeah…" you looked around the booth as you scanned the view of it all. the boys all dress like how jay dresses, yet their behaviour is more open, extroverted—especially in contrast to the way jay lives his life. jay is the darkness that supports the neon colours of his friends' presence behaviour—creating the completeness of their friend group.

"do you know where jay is?" the question easily slips out of your lips as the two couples who were making out had stopped. one of the boys, who is letting a girl kiss him down his jawline, nudges the friend who was asking, like he knows some information and for him to say it.

"i don't know. he just went outside. earlier than what we used to see," the boy says, making you nod your head as you gesture back to them with an open palm to your chest. a small "thank you" coming from you as you turned back towards the entrance of the club.

if jay was not in the club, he must be somewhere you know—a place you and he have familiarised with. his favourite place in this hellhole of the city.

the nighttime's darkness permeates across the tunnels connecting the nearest exit to the concourse of the subway train. the usual crowded hallways are now filled only with you. your feet walk you down the path you are used to, standing on the moving escalator that runs between pillars that are holding the building above to not crush at the place you are standing. the whirlling of the machine enters your ears along with the sounds of the footsteps and the air conditioning fan that lets fresh air into the underground.

your eyes continue to look down on your sneakers-covered legs even as the train is moving. your body's buzzing all throughout because you are still, deep down, hoping that jay will be where you guess he will be. his motorcycle can take him anywhere he wants, from myeong-dong to gangnam to the hidden bar you both find yourself in for a different atmosphere take you haven't fully taken note of the location yet. and as the sound of the announcement rings through the near-empty train cars, saying the name of your stop, you push yourself up from the seat and let your body move on autopilot. down the familiar hallways, to the step out to the concrete ground outside, and finally, the path with trees and shrubs around it.

finally looking up, you gaze upon the beautiful view across from your figure; of the buildings with lights on, showing their occupancy even if there is no one in there for the night. you eyed the small shack you have called home for a week now—figuratively and literally—as you peer towards the open space under the bridge full of benches and tables for people to shield themselves from the sun, the rain, and the city. your eyes glance at the spot under the bridge, squinting your eyes ever so slightly to find something that reflects the light in the dark of what looks to be a white takeaway plastic bag. a smile grows instantly on your face before it falls as you take a deep breath and move forward.

"jay?" he could hear your voice calling from beside him, yet his eyes were stuck on the blinking needle on top of the tallest tower across the river. yet, you won't stop even if he doesn't answer.

jay sensed you sitting beside him, your thighs touching his as on his face formed a faint scowl that hurt you more as he continued to—softly—ignore you.

"i'm sorry," your words caught his attention, making him peek at you from the corner of his eyes slightly before returning to the scenery, "for making you see me that way. it's my fault i accepted it. And yeah, who you see with me is my ex-boyfriend, wonbin. the one that i told you about."

your hands grasp each other on your lap and you continued with your eyes closed shut, "i'm sorry for lying to you. i only had broken up with him officially right at that moment when i noticed you were there. i'm sorry for guiding you along like that. for the texts i have been sending to fill with only half-truths. for the many things i have to hide, knowing that everything i talked about will then be spread like what my friend says to him and-"

you felt warmth on top of your hands, looking down to see jay's on top of yours, curling his fingers to clasp onto them. "one by one," his comment so simple as you nodded. and so, you tell him everything. everything that you have been planning for the past week or two since you decided to live separately from wonbin's unit. context that will paint your situation for him completely, with no remorse.

"i am collecting enough money to fulfil my target for my mom and then go back home to geoje. seoul is not for me at all. i miss the slow pace style of living, thinking of trivial things on a daily basis. to be greeted by the sea every time you wake up and look out from your window." you gulped down. one explanation down as you skim at jay to find him looking back at you.

"i met wonbin, his bandmates, and their female friend when they were on a trip to geoje, finding themselves in the eatery i was working in. i was the only one on that shift with the owner as the chef alongside the barista for the drinks." a small smile grows on your face when the memories of the first encounter plays in your mind. "they were all so lovely, asking me to sit with them as we converse when i see that this particular guy—wonbin—is staring at me. so, i know at that moment that he is attracted to me. they asked me about many things and they came to know me well from the information they gathered. how i speak, how i think, how i perceive. especially wonbin, who could read it like it is written with big and thick-styled penmanship. so, they asked me to go to seoul with them when they're going back."

a scoff coming out of your lips as you remember more from that to continue, "i was thinking they were only kidding me. but i realise that they were serious, specifically after they all see this metaphorical glow when wonbin and i converse because we find a lot of things in common. i discuss with my mom about whether i should move away or not and all its many factors. i know that i still also some opportunities if i stay to work in busan, closer to my mom if she needs anything she can't get it herself so i could get the earliest bus and ride it to geoje. but, she convinces me to go to seoul. saying to me about bigger opportunities and such, but also taking risks for my life as well. so i go and as a result, wonbin and his friends are my lifelines here."

peeking back at jay, he had already turned his upper body to face you, his eyes telling you to continue on as you nodded, "wonbin and i established ourselves as officially dating when we arrived in seoul. though i do think the way he is seeing me transforms into a groupie persona towards the last few months. he never treats me seriously and only thinks of me as, like, this doll he owns. placing his hands on me whenever a customer gets to close to me whilst i was working at the pub. as months goes, i realised that he is very unloyal, fucking other girls behind my back even if we are in the same vicinity. it makes me feel so… limited." you rubbed your hands, "that people aren't on my side even when i talk about it. so, i started pushing the limits and went to the club that his friends introduced me to after a gig. during that escapade alone, i stayed in that corner a few times. not realising you were there with me."

you quickly put your hanging back on your lap, feeling your shoulder becoming lighter from the weight. "i realised i was at rock bottom. no other friends to confide in. no known familial connections with. no money for myself because i have to take care of our day-to-day lives. killing myself would probably be the easiest way out because i don't have anyone else here other than wonbin and his friends also enabling that, even the female friend who i wish would understand me more. one night, i decided to pull out a kitchen knife and," your hand forms into a gripping motion, placing it by your neck, "put it right there on my skin. the sharpness pierces through the surface as i felt warm blood flowing down. thinking about the hardships overshadowing the opportunities, about not being able to explore, and being stuck like i am in a cage."

with a hiss, you dropped your fist. "then, my mom's face shows up, she who is alone in geoje only with my extended families, expecting me to have fun and live my life happily here. i realised that i was selfish for wanting to go when i still have someone who is looking forward to my future no matter how it goes. so, i stopped and quickly wrote a letter to be sent to her, saying that i will be going home in a couple of months."

you brush your hair, feeling the cathartic turmoil that itches your skin as you are pouring everything out to jay; letting him know every truth to him. "then, around last month now. i decided to move out of wonbin's place to our shared female friend's unit. sleeping there at night but still getting my clothes and belongings out of his unit one by one when i found him fucking someone on our bed. he was blacked out drunk and pissed and so he beat me down, bruising my face that even his fucking paramour pitied me so much she rescue me from him. the next day, i walked away from the pub as we had an argument and how he doesn't even apologize to the bruises i have on my face. so i went to the club and to the corner when i finally realised you are there. that's where you come in, saving me as wonbin is chasing me down."

a chuckle came out of you, "the day after it, when you brought me home to the apartment tower and i told you about finding a new job, he tried to fuck me and my body is struggling to held on the morals i have set. to stop him. so when he found me living in his friend's place, he pushed himself on me. i realised that whatever plan i try is not going to work anymore and i have to act quick. i refuged somewhere else that night." jay's eyes shook as you told him what happened after he left, his head tilting down to cower himself before you.

"when i got the job at the snack bar, i realised he was tracking me down. so, every single thing i own in his apartment that i have taken out has to also move as i don't feel safe in that apartment tower anymore because he shows up again the next day and hangs out with our shared friend like nothing ever happened between us. i try my best to be hidden from him—sneakily sneak off in my shift until i secured the job and told the manager at the pub i resigned—and many more things. you and your friends are the only ones who know i work in that snack bar." you look at the small building across from you, feeling how his hand is staying still in yours.

jay is sitting there in silence, head tilted back up to glance at you. his hand move to curl more against yours as he collects the words he wants to say, but first and foremost, the word that you deserve to hear after every single puzzle piece is now here and how he solved it fast—seeing the bigger picture.

"i'm sorry for not protecting you enough." his words enter your ears, making your body tense as you peer at him, feeling the walls that are making you so sturdy melt away. jay flips your hand and lets his fingers lock in between yours. "where are you staying?"

"well," you eyed the shack near the river once again before turning to him, "come with me."

the boy lets you guide his movement with the interlocked hands, walking closer and closer towards the building you work at, where only the exterior lights are on—telling its presence there for the night owls like him and you. jay looks down and notices the glint of light in your hand as you both walk toward the door labelled "staff only", putting the key into its hole as you turn it and hear the clicking of the lock. pushing the door open and walking inside, a small luminescnet orange light greets jay as he surveys the room. the shelves nearest to the door have items labelled ranging from flours to oils—the area is where the snack bar stores its inventory. but behind that small lamp is a dark corner of the room. his familiar eyes to the darkness let him find a few bags and a suitcase residing beside a makeshift bed made of cardboard, a pillow, and a towel for the duvet. the space between his eyebrows wrinkled as he turned back to you, making you let out a thin smile.

"i convince my bosses i can open and close the store because i practically have nothing else to do. i've been staying here and they don't know about it." jay walks closer whilst hearing you talk, examining your living conditions now when he sees dried wax from candles gather into one spot, making him turn towards where the light comes from to see it being a candle placed on a small ceramic plate. "i've been using a bunch of candles so that they couldn't detect that i'm staying here by the electricity meter." you spoke out, looking at the corner you've been calling home. even with its less-than-likely situation, you felt safer here than staying at ningning's when wonbin could just barge into the room.

"i wanted to buy some groceries for myself today when i came across wonbin. he's egging me on again about me 'not being confident in him' and all that stuff. we are technically separated, but not once have i verbalised that we are over because i just think that he had already stopped seeing me that way." your expression becomes a faint frown as you sigh.

"for one last time, i trust him, so he brings me back to his friends and to the venue once again. them asking about my whereabouts and i had to stay as quiet as possible so they couldn't track me down for him. love is finicky when you still feel the feelings for the person you love so confidently in front of you. wonbin is better at performing than the first time i saw him and i'm very proud of him for that. but, my body is just…" a huge exhale came out of you, "too familiar with him that whenever he touches me. like a snap," you say while doing a snap!, "i lost control. i realised i have never been in control when i am with him, but then i saw you and start to think about the things i have taken control for myself to get rid of him. the last one is to reclaim that control of mine on him. and so i did and chase down after you."

you turn around and face him, stepping closer as you look at him with remorse, "you've been the most supportive person i have had in a while. i apologise for stringing you along for whatever has happened in this short relationship we had. you're my saviour not only from wonbin, but from the harshness of seoul. you've made me less lonely, though i know you like to be alone even under the neon signs at night. i don't know if you still want to be friends, or whatever this is, with me. but i thank you for that. and when the time comes and i have enough to meet my financial target, i will buy the first ticket back to geoje no matter how expensive-"

his body acts after you say your last words, leaning in to kiss your breath away. your eyes blink into close as your frown fades and are replaced with furrowed eyebrows before he lets go. his breath blows on your skin as he glances you in the eyes. "i don't know if i could let you go that easily."

jay moves his head back to let you see his face as a whole, words are forming on the tip of his tongue, of something he wanted to say to you. "i have fallen for you, (y/n). i have fallen for your enthusiasm to learn, your bravery, and your resilience. as i said the last time, i'm here for you." his hand connected with yours. "you can stay with me. live with me and we will see how this goes for us."

"i don't want to burden you like that-"

"you won't be burdening me," jay replies immediately, a smirk shows on his face as he continues, "you've been making me less lonely as well."

a tear fell down the corner of your eye and when you wanted to wipe it away, jay beats you to it as you felt his thumb pressing down your cheek. "let me help you." he mumbles of for you. and with a long breath, you nodded at his words as you leaned into his hand that was cupping your face.

jay mounted the bike first as he put your travel bag in front of him, the plastic bag of the takeaway from the chinese food street vendor hanging on his left handlebar, and you carefully mounted the vehicle behind the suitcase to create a barrier for him and you as you stood with your heavy backpack—slowly hugging the huge bag and to some of its space on your lap as you gently move on the seat.

"will you be okay?" the engine revving by him at the front, as you're scared the bike will tumble out of balance.

"i'll keep it slow," jay replied, and with a push, the bike lurches. the way jay rides the bike is very clean; gone are the swerves between cars as he stays in one lane the entire time, even if the streets are mostly empty. but the wind still blows against both of your hairs as you look around the cityscape of seoul. the buildings that were were getting denser and denser as jay brought you to his neighbourhood, further away from the main streets.

parking at the residential parking lot, he helps you with the suitcase as you carry the travel bag and backpack full of your important belongings. you both enter the apartment tower and realise how clean it looks. no cracking walls and chipping paint, the tiles are placed so smoothly that you couldn't see the edges of each individual tile. the flight of stairs from your last apartment tower is replaced by a lift replaced as he presses the button open for you. silence spreading against the surfaces as you stood beside each other, sensing the floor beneath you ascending to the destination.

jay walks before you, dragging the suitcase by the handle as he stands in front of a door, pushing in the key before unlocking it. stepping inside, the first room you see is dimly lit with a tint of blue from the luminescent light—similar to the ambience of your space in the storage room of the snack bar. but, as you push your shoes off by the front door and step onto the floor made by wooden panels, you can see the room expanding. a kitchen area by the door that houses a little aquarium with a bunch of colourful small fishes. a personal computer sits on a desk near a window overlooking the view of the streets down below and the skyline visible from this floor.

the boy steps aside as he lets you look around the space. your eyes studied the surface of the coffee table to see documents, numerous documents of black ink on white paper scattered around. many of them are pristine printing, but some have some handwriting on them—like a study case for someone who is learning. you then move towards the window of the living area, finding a desk full of CDs in their cases and two guitar cases beside it—both electric and acoustic—making a pout form on your face.

"water?" you heard him say beside you as he hands you a glass of water. picking it up, you drink it down and don't stop—not realising how dehydrated you have been. you gulp all of it down until there is nothing left before placing it down on the coffee table. turning back towards his figure, he had pulled off his leather jacket and placed it on the couch, letting you see his build in the black t-shirt. how sturdy his shoulders look as you have leaned on them time to time on the bike that he rides.

your hand reaches out to him—fingers moving from curling to stretching—as he turns and meets yours with his. that is when he pulls you in and makes you stand before him. his free hand spread on your back, pushing you against him as he looks into your eyes with his own that is full of something that you have never felt in this way. wanting to see them closer, you lean your forehead against his, taking into consideration his confession as you give multiple nods.

"yeah," you started, "i like you, jay. i was thinking we were just friends, but that kiss last time changed that. and this time too. i know that i'm not going to be a perfect companion for you, but i wish you would be here with me on my healing journey."

you look downwards at his face to see his smile that has lifted up his lips, a smile with beautiful dimples on both cheeks. your hand moves to his nape, playing with the ends of his hair as you lean in closer, lips against his ear.

"i'm yours, jay. i'm yours to protect. yours to care. and i will do it back for you, if you let me," you mumbled, every breath you push out gracing his skin as you felt him nodding his head. that is when you felt his hand cupping your face and guiding your face back in front of his before pushing forward to let both of your pairs of lips kiss. your breath is taken away instantly as you feel the sparks between you explode your heart in a blooming fashion—unwrapping the rope that was holding you to that ex-boyfriend of yours and replacing it with a beautiful string to connect it with the boy in front of you.

the emotion that jay exuded whilst he was looking at you is lust with a hint of something emotional. something you replicate with your action as he guides you, licking your lips to make you open your mouth wider. he pushes his tongue to meet yours and to dance with each other. your other hand is grasping onto his shoulder blade so tight that you don't want to let him go right now—after everything clicks into your mind that you do have someone supporting you unconditionally. pulling himself back, you felt the coolness around your lips that was smeared with each other's saliva. jay's hand that is on your back guides you towards the open doorframe as he wraps himself around you from behind.

he guides you to sit on the bed as the light of the outside enters through the window covered by the sheer curtain. the view from the bedroom overlooks a huge street that looks so high up as you pivot back to face him. your palms are pushing yourself to sit upright as you bite your lip, staring up and down at how jay is pulling off his t-shirt, letting you see his tan golden skin even under minimal lighting. his arms are muscular and flex when they move, as your eyes are trailing from them to his torso and find the faint lines of his abdominal muscles

he's beautiful.

with a surge of confidence, you pull the hem of your tank top as you take it off upwards, feeling how free you are as jay looks at your exposed torso area. standing up, you step before him as you reach to the front of your neck, feeling the clasp of your choker as you pull it off like a belt. the skin breathes when it becomes loose before you pull one end with your movement. jay look as you show him the scar—the fear of exposing it is gone when it comes to him—as you drop the choker on the floor with his t-shirt and your top.

with another step closer, you felt how his chest grazed against your covered breasts. looking deep into his eyes, you speak, "i'm yours-"

he cuts you off with a kiss and you can feel the push of the skin-to-skin contact: goosebumps growing on your arms because of it. when you felt him moving his kisses down to your neck, your hands reach behind your back to unhook your bra as the cup falls from going lax—letting him pull them down as he kisses down the valley between your boobs. your hand reaches for his—the rightful person to touch you like this, as jay's touch replaces everything that was before it. his breath against your nipple makes it getting perky, a chuckle coming out from him as licks it before giving a suck whilst his hand reaches and plays with the other. your head leans back as your breathless moans come out, curling your fingers in his locks of hair before tilting down to watch and focus on his movement that is pleasuring you more and more.

jay takes the lead when he pushes you back onto the bed, making you move until your head finds his pillows when he climbs on top and kneels between your spread legs. his hand smooths down from below your boobs before meeting your navel and then the button and zipper of your jean pants. nodding your head, he pushes the button open and zips down the zipper before dragging them down your legs alongside your underwear. pushing them to the ground, he stands up by the front of the bed. you bit your bottom lip harder when you watch as he peels off all of his lower clothing pieces—letting you see just how big he is as he wraps his hand around his member—seeing how it grows bigger with just a few strokes. in return, you lick to of your fingertips and open your legs for him, feeling the coolness of your pre-cum as you slide your fingers against your slit while the other brushes against your boob—making you more aroused as you can't help to roll your eyes when you felt how sensitive your clitoris is.

he lets out a growl before lying down by your core, littering your thighs with kisses as you squirm underneath him. you put your forearms beside you as you push up, viewing how his eyes are looking at you as he finds your lower lips and licks around them. your hand moves back to your core, letting a finger dragged up from the top of your opening towards where your clit is—pushing it down as you let out a gasp, telling him where it is located as he replaces it with his thumb. jay presses down on it hard, making your body quiver as your jaw drops and gasps coming out of you.

when you felt his tongue dragging against your opening, you let out a moan that made you cover your mouth up—having never felt this as your ex-boyfriend only ever cared about himself when you both were having sex. your fingers found his hair once again, holding onto them as you look at how he is enjoying pleasuring you.

"jay…" you moaned out in a sigh, letting your head fall onto the pillow with your legs moving to lie on his upper back, making him grip onto your calf as he pushes you wider for him. then, you felt his finger prodding the hole and caressing the rim before pushing in, making your walls clamp on him as he groans at the tightness.

"please…" another moan left you as you look down to meet his gaze, making him pushing another finger in as he widens them and pushes against your walls.

"preparing you for me," he finally spoke, making you wetter than ever as you can feel him opening you up and even motioning as you hear the moisture sound coming from his fingers penetrating you. jay's tongue returns as he licks and give a slight suck on your clitoris, using every might of his to be patient—but also a revenge for making him worry and even mad at you.

"i'm ready- c- cum-" you voiced out as your legs tremble and a white flash goes over your vision, feeling another gush of arousal coating his fingers as he licks the lips up, letting him taste your cum and making him hum. then, his fingers are gone as you whine out with creased eyebrows. then, he climbs fully onto the bed and kneels between your legs. his fingers are shining from your release as he lets the same hand wrapped around his shaft—now hard and veiny—before stroking it to let the blood flow more.

as your hand finds his back, you reach up to give a single kiss on his lips. then, you wet your palm with your saliva and help stroking him, feeling the bluntness of his glans as you felt his pre-cum coming out—making you spread them down his hard cock. the width of your palm is only able to wrap around half the sixe of his penis length as he helps with stroking the other half. with his hand wrapped around the base as you let go to lie fully down on the bed, you hiss as he playfully drags the head across your opening. playing around by tapping it against your clit as your breath becomes more unstable. and when he claims you by pushing his cock in, your heartbeat's pace becomes quicker.

his hips move slowly as he looks down on you, watching as you nod your head and mouth "yes" on repeat. your eyes flicking back into your skull as he pushes in deeper and deeper—more than half of him now inside you. your walls continue to clamp down around him, making him catch his breath as he finally fully enters you. your hand teasingly lifts up to press down on the hardness beneath your belly button, making both of you moan as you can feel him within you and he can sense the pressure of your hand.

"fuck!" he retorted as you nodded at him.

"move, please. make me yours," you let out, putting your trust in him. you felt him pull out halfway before plunging back inside, again and again, until he felt your arousal coating him and making it smoother to slide in you. it continues until he sees the pain fading from your face and he starts adjusting the pace. the moans that are getting louder and louder make you cover it with your palm before jay removes it and muffles it with his lips. continuing as the pace gets faster and faster and how you wrapped your legs behind him.

sweats start to form around your and his bodies as your forehead sticks against his, feeling how his face scrunches as the pleasure kicks him too. your hands clawing on his back muscles as he swallows your moans that are getting more frequent. your walls forming to accommodate his shape as the moist sound continues on. then, he starts to change his pace—focusing on thrusting slowly and deep as his tip even slips out of your hole, making you grab his now wet hard cock and guide him as he thrust deep until it reaches your cervix, brushing your g-spot.

lust dissipates in his eyes as you cup jay's face with your hand. now, all the love that is hiding beneath it shows up as he leans into your touch. his hand that is resting beside you on the pillow moves to the back of your head and pushes it up, making your body fold as you see him sinking himself deep inside you. the pleasure spreading across your body as you see how he dissapears when you become full, eyes looking up at his face that as he also watches the way his cock enters you.

"i'm not letting you go easily," he whispers to himself, but with such a small distance, you can hear it as you continue to nod, eyes staring up to meet his as you reply with the way your eyes gaze at him. groans and moans decorate the space between the two of you as he reads your body language, taking your physique into his mind so he could remember every aspect of it.

with every push, you are getting closer and closer to reaching the peak that he is taking you to, making you relax on the bed as he brushes his body against you. chest to chest. hips to hips. you give him a lasting kiss as you mouthed "cum" against his lips before your jaw drops. white flashes show up again as he holds your back as you arch into him. a moan coming out loud as he slams his lips onto yours, his pace is getting faster as you enter overstimulation when you feel his groan against your lips and his few thrusts become so deep yet erratic. then, you felt warm liquid spurting against your walls.

you both breathe out heavily against each other. his hands massaging your hips as you felt his release, making you feel so full inside as it flows out to the opening of your hole. your face furrowed with many emotions swirling around as you hug him, feeling his kisses stained across your scarred neck as you can't help but to sob. jay doesn't need to ask you anything about it and he lets you have this release, making you anchored against him as you echoed what he whispered before towards him.

"i won't let go of you either."

-

as he opened the closed lids of his eyes, jay blinked as the sun glistened on him and a small smile formed on his face.

he looks outside the window beside him, your head resting against his shoulder with both of your hands linked as the trees and plain greenery greet him along the train track. a rare scenery to admire when he found himself growing up in a concrete jungle. the view slowly morphs from an overall green-colored view to specks of houses adding in. lone houses stand between fields of what looks to be rice and root vegetables before the tunnel consumes them in the darkness. the chugging of the train continues as it navigates the shadow-covered tracks, when he sees the light seeping into it from the side and expands as the view before him makes gasps coming out.

hills full of buildings on one side as the more the train goes on the track, the more he finds numerous towers showing—not as high as what seoul has to offered, but still enough to instill in him the urban area you have mentioned to him numerous times about this city. as the track continues to run into neighborhoods of people on both side, jay watches them living their lives as he hear loud giggles when he sees children waving towards the moving train—greeting the people into their hometown. then the sign tells him he has arrived at his destination.

busan.

the morning after you decided to stay with him, jay had called his dad about the busan office he knows his family's company have—as it is one of korea's main hubs for trading, especially with ships to and from japan and other countries reached by sea. his life, which was full of darkness and uncertainty, has obscured much of what he wants in his future. but now with you by his side, the misty path becomes clearer as he could sense his dad's surprised joy as his son wants to take his job seriously. but on one condition.

"can i work at the busan office?" he had asked, eyes on the living room as he heard the sound of the shower water running with you inside, cleaning yourself up.

his dad's agreement continues with a few more questions as he finally tells him about you and also his tiredness of living in a swift-paced seoul. and so, after two months from that night when you lived with him, he decided to move away with you. other than his seriousness in this relationship with you, he also wants to explore more of korea because seoul is not everything. jay was too young when he lived in seattle and that made him only have vivid memories when he remembered living there. and because of the unreclaimed memory, he now pushes himself outside of his comfort zone. to create new ones that could elevate him and let him explore more.

when he drags his suitcase and carries his travel bags as you do your own, you both walk towards the arrival area. then he sees you speedwalking in front of him, swerving around the sea of people as you rush forward and let go of your bags you are holding with your hands. arms opened wide to hug an older woman who is much shorter than he and you. jay approaches as you turn around, wiping your tears as the older woman stares up at him.

"this is my mother. and mom, this is my boyfriend," you say with your arms wrapping her in your embrace. jay could see your features in her face as a shocked expression shows up when she gazes at the boy before him.

"you didn't tell me he is so handsome!" she says before grasping for his hand, making him let out a small smile.

"my name is jongseong, ma'am," he replies as your mother steps forward, eyes glimmering with joy before looking back at her child, who is just looking at her sheepishly.

"oh yes, i do know your name. believe me when i was surprised to see a beautifully aggressive motorcycle arriving in front of my house with the name of park jongseong attached to it." her giggles come out as he pinpoints another similairty your mom has with you before glancing towards you who has widen eyes. "no worries about it, jay. (y/n) did mention it in the letter she sent to me a month ago. nice to finally meet you, son," her voice calls to him before she helps with your and his travel bags. the motherly instinct kicking in. "well, we don't want mr. jeon to wait for too long. he still has a job to do," she states as you three walk toward the departure.

your voice clashes with your mom, how she says that she is preparing your favourite food of hers back at your childhood home—which he couldn't wait to taste. jay had heard many stories about geoje from you, from how you and your friends are riding around the scooter all around the island and visiting the towns on one side and the other side of the island. he wants to do it too, riding around in nature with his bike and you behind him showing the road.

"and how about the house?" she asks.

"we still have to go meet the realtor in two days to get the key and documents. jjongie here has to also adapt to his job at his new office because he will be working there next monday. and after we moved into that house, i had to find my own job. but at least, i am closer to you, mom." you said so eloquently, using the nickname you made for him after he had told you of his birth name.

turning your head, you find him smiling at you as he puts his arm around the back of your shoulders whilst you follow your mom, who is guiding you towards the sedan car with your neighbour waiting to drive the two of you back to your childhood home. in his mind, he can already imagine the trees covering the house and the roads. replacing the neon lights with streaking sunlight as he and you ride along the roads with his bike.

finally, for the first time in a long time, he lets the sun shine on him once again. the light embraces your looming selves—knowing that both of you aren't so lonely anymore before when you have each other.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @hearts4yawnzzn @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @fancypeacepersona @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @sunpov @ineedsomezzz @reallysmolrenjun @stealanity @deobitifull @gandaengene @kristynaaah @m1kkso @nyxtwixx @shinrjj @kookthief

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[summercreolefanfictioner]

06. of ikebana and messy rouge stains

A week before Valentine's Day, he specifically sent a request to Gojo if he could go out during the said event. After the whole snow incident, he exchanged numbers with Y/N, and she asked if she could drop by his school to give him chocolates. But because they were keeping the marriage under wraps, Toge offered seeing each other elsewhere. He texted, "I'll ask my teacher. No one will know." The next day, he received an "Okay" from her, so he thought this could be fine.

Or maybe not.

Gojo scratched the side of his head, reading Toge's request as some sort of gateway to trouble. He couldn't disclose the fact that this was a part of Toge and his fiancée's trial courtship period, courtesy of the entire Inumaki-Hanagawa union. He sighed, wondering how he could tell the principal, "Toge's going out on a date with the Hanagawa lady on Valentine's like all those silly lovesick teenage boys do on February 14th." Besides, his family would find out about him sneaking out to go on this date.

"I'll figure something out, okay?" Gojo winked at him. "Just stay back in your seat and relax."

Toge nodded. "Shake."

And he waited for three days before Gojo went back with good news. Yes, he could freely go out after classes on Valentine's Day. Bad news? Well, his request is under the pretense of him running an errand with Gojo. Of course, Gojo will let him be alone so he could enjoy his date, but they only have an hour limit. After all, it was a strict rule of Toge's grandfather that their courtship must only take place every weekend at the Inumaki residence (the exception being the Hanagawa residence in case Toge decided to visit her).

Maki, Yuta, and Panda soon learned from Gojo about this request. One day they were having a random lecture when the Six Eyes user mentioned "Toge's gonna be busy during Valentine's and the upcoming weekend, after all" like it was friggin' normal. How could Gojo think this was not unusual behavior? This was weird. Toge being busy on Valentine's, of all days? They were all supposed to have a movie/karaoke night in Yuta or Panda's room, though. Why is Toge suddenly ditching their plans? And then Yuta secretly overheard Principal Yaga and Gojo talking about the approval of Toge's request to leave the dorms on February 14th.

There is a girl.

They watch Toge from the corner of their eyes. The Cursed Speech user was just zoning out, staring out the window and fully unaware that his friends were keeping an eye on him like he was some suspicious criminal.

Yep. No doubt. There's a girl.

...

But who?

They tried taking turns, doing random stuff that could make Toge spill out about this random girl he was hiding from them. They even relied on Yuta to make him open up a deep conversation or have Panda answer a few of his questions during one of their sexy talks. Maki can make him say more things, but she doubted Toge would talk about it because they all knew Toge could read a few of her non-verbal gestures, and it might turn the tables on her. After all, Toge could be mischievous as hell, and worse, he might give an answer just to make fun of them.

"I remembered when Rika-chan gave me chocolates for Valentine's Day," Yuta reminisced, secretly trying to make Toge soft and talk to him about this imaginary girl whom they think he has the hots for. "It was messy and melted, but it tasted so good!"

Toge only hummed in response, watching Maki and Panda train on the field (they were just pretending to train all because they wanted to have Yuta find out about the secret girl).

"H-How about you, Inumaki-kun? Have you received Valentine's chocolate from someone?" Yuta asked.

Toge only shrugged, then turned around to get something from his bag. While doing so, Maki and Panda immediately halted and Yuta just made an X sign with his hands.

Plan 1: FAIL!

The next thing, after Toge warmed up, Panda called him, motioning with his hand for him to come closer. Toge sighed, jogging towards him as Panda placed an arm around his shoulder. He leaned down to whisper.

"Listen, listen," Panda said, and Toge held a deadpan expression. "This is important, so answer properly."

Toge nodded.

"Do you prefer girls with short hair or long hair?"

Toge contemplated, imagining Y/N with short hair and long hair, only for him to realize he had never seen her with her hair down. While the thought has crossed his mind a few times, he got a bit curious now. What would it be like for her to have her hair down? That's what's running through his head.

"Mentaiko," he sighed in frustration. I have no idea.

Panda was horrified, but he will not be deterred by his dubious response.

"Then, what about boobs? Do you prefer them big or small?"

That also got Toge thinking again. First, the hair. Now, the boobs. It wasn't like he had looked at Y/N in that way, but his imagination was unfortunately limited. He had never seen her too with any other clothing other than the traditional kimono, so he couldn't get quite a guess on her chest size. Furthermore, if he were to get a peek at her flesh, it would always be the nape of her neck, so fair and so pure. Sometimes, he wondered how she would feel if there was a mark on that skin. Will she be disgusted or ashamed? How would she hide a suspicious mark that he willingly gave—

Wait.

Why did he think of giving her a hickey?!

And his brain was now running wild, imagining Y/N with her hair sprawled on his mattress as she looked up at him with her half-lidded eyes and lips glistening red from his kisses. The top of her kimono was slightly pulled down, revealing her shoulder as she looked away, her cheeks blushing as she tried to hide from him by putting her arm over her face. Toge only removed it from her face, pinning her hands above her head.

"Toge," she breathed out, and he found it nice she was saying his name like that, "n-not there."

He chuckled, leaning close to her neck as he peppered kisses on her skin.

"Spread your legs."

"Toge?" Panda called his attention, worried his friend was not responding to his question. "Earth to Toge!"

Yuta and Maki looked up from their posts and saw the exchange, approaching the two to check what had happened. Panda was even snapping fingers, but Toge only stood there frozen like a statue.

"What the heck did you do?" Maki huffed, an arm on her hip as she glared at Panda.

"I just asked him a few questions!" Panda held up his arms defensively. "I didn't mean any harm."

Yuta could only chuckle at their playful banter, getting near Toge. "Inumaki-kun, are you—"

Then he stopped. Even Maki and Panda paused from arguing to see whatever it was. Toge's purple eyes were wide in awe with his whole face red as he tried to mouth off a few unintelligible words. He was gulping like there was some sort of tension he was experiencing in the air. Panda had to wave a hand in front of him, but he wasn't relenting.

Oh, dear.

Suddenly, blood slowly trickled down his nose, startling the three. The moment Maki shrieked, "Toge, your nose is bleeding!" was when Toge finally snapped, feeling wetness on his face and when he touched it—yep. There was blood.

"T-Tissue!" Yuta said, scrambling to get some only for Toge to stop him and wipe the blood off with the high collar of his turtleneck.

Shit. He daydreamed about doing some dirty stuff with Y/N in broad daylight and got a nosebleed out of it.

"Are you okay, Toge?" Panda asked. "Sorry for asking you about earlier."

Maki narrowed her eyes. "What did you ask anyway?"

"It's not important!"

Toge shook his head, waving his hand in negation. "Shake, shake." It's fine. I'm fine.

After practice ended, he took a long, cold shower. It was futile; his dreams were plagued of Y/N doing those things further with him.

Nonetheless...

Plan 2: FAIL!

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

tags: @enouche @ch3esesoup @bloemrijk (comment below so I can add you to the taglist)

[valentinexhart]

Valentine doesn’t flinch when he catches her. She lets the motion happen, allows him to pull her in, and her spine aligns with his chest like it was scripted, as if she’d let him believe he had dominion for just one breath longer. But her orbs gleam intensely; rubies under firelight.

The corner of her mouth tugs into something too sly to be sweet. “Mm,” Val purrs, heat coiling at the base of her throat like the beginnings of a raging blaze. “We?” She doesn’t look over her shoulder; no need to. Her head slants just enough to graze her temple against his cheek in a whisper of intimacy. Not tenderness, more so intent. “Awe, that’s adorable...” She coos, as his thumb taunted the flesh above her wrist. “You think this is us.” Then, soft as sin, “You think I’m here for you.” There was no denying that the redheaded vixen was yearning to get a rise out of him. To push and pull, until the pair of them stood dangling over the ledge, clinging to a thread.

Her digits tightened over his hand, not to push away, but to anchor. To remind him, she’s granting him permission to touch her. That every inch of contact is a choice. Her choice.

“I’m here because I was bored,” Valentine croons. “Because I like a dash of chaos makes my champagne taste sweeter. And maybe, just maybe, because watching you try to keep up with me?” Her voice dips to a silken whisper. “That’s the real entertainment.”

She turns in his hold finally, facing him now, close enough for trouble. Without warning, her hands begin to map her perfectly sculptured body. Hips effortlessly find the beat of the song, clouding the air around them. “And as for what we’re doing?” A single brow arches as she leans in. "I'm making memories..." Her lips brushed his jaw in a phantom kiss. "You're making fantasies to revisit."

maybe she was right. maybe he'd lost control the moment he stepped into her orbit—gravity shifting just enough to feel it beneath his skin. she moved like she knew it, too, each sway of her hips deliberate, every flick of her wrist a taunt wrapped in red silk. he was trained to manage attraction, to hold hunger at a careful distance, but watching valentine swipe her thumb across her mouth made all that discipline feel meaningless, hollow, like a game he’d already decided to lose. beautiful women had always been his weakness; hedonism carved deep in bone, a luxury he let himself afford in rare, guarded moments. with her, though, the guard was softer, the locks looser. “then it’s a good thing you like me reckless.”

she slipped away toward the dance floor, moving like a promise of trouble he’d happily accept. he let a heartbeat pass, appreciating the curve of her spine, the rhythm of her step. when he finally moved, it was smooth and unhurried, each step deliberate, an alpha predator’s calculated leisure. he caught up to her right before she reached the crowd, fingers sliding around her wrist, gentle but unyielding as he pulled her back into him and made her land flush against his chest, her frame fitting to his like they’d practiced this dance countless times before. his mouth hovered near the shell of her ear, voice low, teasing, dangerously amused.

“if you’re not gonna perform for me—and everyone else watching,” he drawled softly, thumb brushing slow circles into the bare skin of her wrist, “then tell me, ruby, what the fuck are we even doing here?” he smiled against her hair, voice rich with dark amusement, just enough arrogance bleeding through.

[nyaitsu-writes]

thank you to all the people that reblog my stuff even after so long, especially those of you that add a comment (even in tags) because i read everything and i get very soft seeing my work is still liked T v T <33

[whaliiwatching]

a moment of privacy in public

[todayisafridaynight]

all the asks today are daigo related .. enough!! mine time!!!

what do u think mine gives daigo for valentines day / white day ( & daigo in return if you want )

Anon you fool this ask ended up being about daigo anyway

BUUUUUT i honestly dont know…… i feel as though mine might have ATTEMPTED to gauge what to get for daigo but ended up short since daigo is so Your Company Is More Than Enough For Me and that just Does Not Compute well in his brain. He doesnt want to just give daigo a thoughtless, expensive gift either- not when he SHOULD know him well and knows sentiment means more than a price tag unlike everyone else in mine’s life

In turn i like the idea that daigo thought to get an art history book for mine. Its nothing grotesquely expensive and it still shows daigo knows mine’s interests. Either that or maybe he gets him a sheet music book for piano perhaps with the hope he’ll play for him sometime- which honestly is two birds one stone: mine’s gift to daigo is playing for him and daigo’s gift to mine’s the book. As if spending time with each other isnt perfect already lol

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

from the start !

so. . what are we ??

you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.

sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.

“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.

a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.

you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.

katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.

then your name was brought up.

at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.

he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.

you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.

you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.

you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.

“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.

“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.

you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.

“ow !”

“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.

“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.

when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.

you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”

he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.

“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”

you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.

[rafesangelita]

♡ after a nasty break up, you and rafe find yourselves at the same valentine’s day party, both of you on a mission to distract yourselves for the night. what started as a petty competition to piss each other off, soon turned into a competition to see who would tap out first..

warnings: toxic!rafe, mentions of stalking, jealousy, oral (m. receiving), fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, orgasm denial, hair pulling, slapping, choking, biting, asphyxiation, very little blood, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘EXES AND O’S’ 🤍 this was originally a fluffy prompt with frat!rafe.. idk how we ended up here but i hope you love it nonetheless <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.5k

“what about him? he’s cute.” you followed chanel’s line of vision, your eyes landing on a guy with curly brown hair, a soft smile, and freckles that dusted across his cheeks. “he’s too cute.” you looked away, sighing to yourself as chanel snickered at your side. “oh, i’m sorry, i forgot you only like guys who look like they’re damn near unapproachable.” just then, you spotted rafe in the corner with another girl, that stupid flirtatious look adorning his face as he spared you a single glance. he knew you were looking at him, his hand trailing down the stranger’s back until he grabbed a handful of her ass through her dress.

truth be told, rafe didn’t really care about the girl in front of him. he was at this party for one reason, and one reason only; pussy. after you two ended things in a fit of rage, rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you, even going as far as stalking all of your socials and camping outside your house just to catch a glimpse of you since you enforced a strict ‘no contact’ rule. at the end of the day, he had needs, and his preferred need didn’t want shit to do with him, so now he was here; telling this girl whatever she wanted to hear in hopes he could ‘hit it and quit it’ as soon as possible.

he hated how sexy you looked sitting there. hair freshly done, your face was in what you called ‘full glam’, but your outfit? he was on the verge of dragging you out of the house and taking you home with him just for wearing it. a black see through dress, that he indeed could see through, black strappy heels that hugged your calves perfectly, and his personal favorite; a black lace choker with a ribbon in the front. to put it simply, you looked like sex on legs. “are you even listening to me?” rafe snapped out of his trance, a shit-eating grin playing on your lips while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

he was so pathetic, he had a free opportunity to get his dick wet standing right in front of him and he still couldn’t help but get distracted at the sight of you. if he wanted to make you mad, he needed to have actual competition, and just like both of you knew; there was no such thing. if rafe was going that low, you were going to go even lower. getting up from your spot on the couch, rafe’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way to the crowded living room. the lights grew dim, one of his favorite songs playing over the speakers as you started dancing.

you weren’t even by yourself for a full minute before you felt a pair of large hands snake around your waist, the person’s frontside digging into the soft flesh of your ass as your hips moved against the mystery man. rafe felt his eye twitch, his jaw clenching as you looked up just in time to hold your new dancing partner close by the back of their neck. “you fucking bitch..” he whispered to himself. as if you could read his lips, you turned around, looking up at the hottest guy in the room. besides your ex-boyfriend, of course. he had dark hair, a chiseled jawline, and was exactly the type to make rafe pissed.

pulling him down to your head level, you leaned in and kissed him, your eyes staying on rafe’s the entire time. at first, rafe was just gonna let you have your moment and let you think you got the last laugh.. but then he saw the guy’s hand slip underneath your dress and your tongue slip out of your mouth. “fuck it.” rafe nudged the girl off of his arm and stormed upstairs, your chest blooming with pride as you watched him disappear. once he was out of your sight, you pulled away from the stranger with a roll of your eyes, leaving the poor guy confused in the middle of the living room.

now that rafe was gone, you were bored once again, your phone going off inside your purse.

[10:10 PM] chanel <3: come upstairs!! hottie alert..

your eyebrows knitted in confusion at the message. ‘hottie alert’, chanel did not talk like that. adjusting the hem of your dress, you made your way upstairs where a line for the bathroom wrapped around the hallway. you could feel everyone’s gazes burning into your skin, your eyes scanning for your bestie in the crowded area. walking past some of the bedrooms, you paused once you reached the last door on the right.

“give me my phone you fucking psychopath!” the voice belonged to none other than chanel, your nails clicking against the metal knob before you swung the door open. “what the fuck are you doing?!” you shoved rafe in the chest before ripping chanel’s phone out of his hand. “i wouldn’t have to text you from your friend’s phone if you didn’t have me blocked on everything.” he spat, a teasing smile gracing his lips as you whispered something in chanel’s ear. “..are you sure?” you had just told her to give you a moment alone with him, your bestie feeling a little uneasy at the idea.

“trust me, i’ll be fine,” you scoffed, “look at him.” both of you turned around just in time to see rafe stand up with a wince.

you may or may not have pushed him straight into the chiseled edge of the hardwood dresser that sat in the corner of the room..

chanel accepted her phone as you handed it to her, making sure to shoot rafe one more glare before shutting the door behind her. rafe watched you click the lock, his figure towering over your own as he caged you between the wall. “posing as my friend to get me upstairs.. really, rafe? you look desperate as fuck.” you laughed, the degrading sound turning him on. he laughed along before wrapping a hand around your neck, the smile dropping from his face the second he leaned into you. “so what does that make you? ‘over here shoving your tongue down some random dude’s throat.”

you scoffed before rafe pressed into your windpipe, your eyes fluttering shut at the force. “you started it.” your voice barely came out above a whisper, a shiver running down your spine when you felt his breath fan against your cheek. “yeah? well, then i guess that means i should finish it too then, huh?” before you had a chance to get out some catty remark, he gripped the sides of your neck, dragging you over to the bed before pinning you down by your wrists. he took this time to examine your outfit closely, his nostrils flaring as your nipples were visible through the fabric.

“looks like you came here for the same reason i did,” he laughed, “what? you don’t got any panties on either?” you struggled against him, thrashing in his hold while your heel clad feet dangled off of the plush mattress. “why do you care? you’re not getting anything.” rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting as if you just proposed a challenge. taking one of his hands off of your wrists, you wasted no time in landing a slap across his cheek, the action only making him grow hard in his boxers. “the fuck was that supposed to do?” he laughed, “that’s just foreplay for me, baby.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes before you felt rafe’s hand slip underneath the waistband of your panties. all objections died in your throat when his fingers worked skillfully around your clit, your body jolting at the familiar stroke of his digits. you hated that you let him get to know you like the back of his hand. the man knew what it took to get you purring, your hips chasing his touch for more friction. “look at you, you’re so fucking easy.” you shoved his chest in a poor attempt to get him to back off, the action deemed useless as he took your hand and pressed kisses to your knuckles instead.

“i hate you.” you moaned. without warning, rafe slipped both his middle and ring finger inside your soaked entrance, your arousal contradicting your words. “hate me? it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it..” you cried out when he curled his digits, the tips of his fingers pressing against your sweet spot. it didn’t take long before you were trembling, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his wrist. one look up at rafe and you could see just how much he was enjoying this, the erection in his pants catching your attention. you decided right then and there you weren’t going to be the only one coming undone.

palming him through his jeans, rafe’s mouth opened as he let your other hand free, your dark gaze meeting his own before you were working him out of his pants. he gave you a little bit of leeway, allowing you to sit up just enough to be eye level with his throbbing cock before he ran his tip across your lips. “you know what to do with it, baby.” poking your tongue out, rafe groaned as you held him at the base, taking the first half of him between your lips. “see? this is what your mouth is for.. ‘it’s not for all that fucking attitude you give me.” he stroked the side of your cheek before cradling your head with both hands.

just as you rested your hands on his thighs, rafe tugged on the roots of your hair before forcing himself to hit the back of your throat. you whined, your nails digging into the denim of his jeans. asshole, you thought. rafe could see the combative look in your eyes, a knowing smirk gracing his lips before you swallowed around his length, drawing a hiss from the man above you. he continued dragging your mouth up and down his length until he was panting, his eyes rolling back the same way they did before he was going to shoot his load. pinching his side, rafe groaned as you pulled away with a gasp, slipping out from under him.

his cock was standing straight up against his stomach, your saliva running down the underside of it while his chest rose and fell with each breath. “you were just waiting to do that shit to me, weren’t you?” he stood up, kicking what was left of his jeans off of his ankles before wrapping a fist in your hair and slamming you against the wall. you yelped, a teasing grin taking over your features as he hiked your dress up, lifting you off of the floor with ease. rafe held you, his large palms squeezing the globes of your ass before slapping the flesh there harshly.

rafe leaned in to kiss you, his ego taking another hit when you moved your head to the side. “i’m about to fuck you stupid and you can’t even let me taste you?” he tsked, “is that really how you wanna be on valentine’s day?” you scoffed at his words, your eyebrows knitting together as he pulled your panties to the side. “you don’t even care about valentine’s day. you said it was corny, remember?” he ran his leaking tip between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt him nudge your sensitive bud. “yeah, i said a lot of shit, i know that, alright?” rafe grabbed your chin, forcing your head to stay in place, “but i want that to change.. ‘want things to be different between us.”

it was hard to deny him when he was sliding into you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he moaned in your ear. “you say that every single time..” you grumbled, your walls fluttering around the girth of him. rafe bit down on the sensitive part of your neck, a small gasp emitting from your mouth before he started rocking into you. “i mean it, though,” he grunted, “i want you back at home, at tanneyhill.” slowly but surely, rafe kissed up your jaw until you hesitantly gave in and let him take your lips with his. it was searing— the way your mouths melted into one was nothing short of addicting.

rafe’s hips slammed into your own with a precision that turned you into a puddle of nothing, your nails running along the back of his head as his chest pressed into yours. “you want me back home?” you bit his bottom lip, tugging on it until he cursed out loud. you ended up pulling a little too hard, a small bead of blood pooling in the indent you managed to make with your teeth. rafe was turned on out of his mind, his hips moving faster as he began thumbing at your clit. “fuck— yes, i need you back home. m’gettin tired of this stalking bullshit.” you giggled at the revelation, pulling him in for another kiss.

both of you moaned at the metallic taste on your tongues, your hand snaking down to fist his t-shirt. “prove it then.” that was all rafe needed to hear before he went all in, his thrusts growing rapid and hard— your head knocking against the wall behind you. your moans were so graphic, rafe couldn’t believe he lasted this long without hearing them. pretty soon, you were gasping for air, the band in your tummy snapping as rafe watched the way you lost yourself in his arms. you were so fucking pretty like this. swollen lips, heated skin, sparkly eyes and your now fucked up hair. you looked absolutely perfect.

having been denied an orgasm the first time, he had no idea how he hadn’t filled you with his seed yet, his climax just in arm’s reach. “please let me cum,” rafe pleaded, his abs constricting as the familiar heat began to simmer in the pit of his stomach, “i haven’t finished in fucking months.” you did a double take, your eyes widening slightly. “are you tapping out, ‘cameron?” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before burying his face in the curve of your neck. “are you really gonna make me say it?” your cunt was sucking him in like a vice, his eyes screwing shut as he started falling over the edge.

“of course i am. tell me i win before i unwrap my legs around your waist.” rafe gave in immediately, a pathetic ‘you win, you win, baby!’ was grunted into your flesh as you felt the hot ropes of his cum paint your insides. he stilled, his cock twitching until you took him for all that he had. rafe’s fingers dug into your skin, leaving crescents engraved in their wake. “shit.” he sighed, peppering your exposed chest with kisses. very gently, rafe carried you over to the bed where he adjusted your dress. “as much as i love the way this looks on you, you’re keeping this dress inside the house and that’s it.”

grabbing your phone, you opened your text thread with your best friend. rafe could hear the rapid clicking of your nails on your screen, his eyebrows knitting together as he pulled his jeans back on. “what are you doing?” he asked, craning his neck to steal a glance over your shoulder. “i’m just letting chanel know we didn’t kill each other.”

fair point.

[writingunderneathawillow]

blue valentine

- the four times bucky makes you cry + the one time you make him cry content warnings: heavy angst, bucky’s trauma, mental health plays a big part here, depression, ptsd, unwanted advances towards reader (not bucky), accidental violence against reader, crying, insecurities, hurt/comfort, very minor thunderbolts* spoilers word count: 3.3k a/n: inspired by nessa barrett’s song blue valentine, lyrics are in italics, this is unedited cause i’m lazy but i’ll try to get around to it tomorrow

you play it so damn cool, 'cause baby, you are Bucky was a quiet lover. He would send you flowers at the end of the week, little gifts on special occasions and he’d spend time with you, either tucked away in tranquil corners of restaurants or curled up together in dark corners and sequestered rooms of the tower. Most of the time however, you spent at your apartment. He had told you he was a private person when you met, and you had understood that. Sometimes you wanted to show him off just a little – introduce him to your parents and friends, kiss his cheek on his birthday – but you were patient and held out on such things. Instead, you relished in your shared secrecy. Keeping things just to yourself had its benefits as well. Most of the time.

But once you hit the six-months-mark in your relationship, things got a little rocky. Your friends were pushing to meet him, and you were eager to share your joy with them. Bucky protested the way only he could: With smooth words and even smoother kisses. “Doll, I just want us to stay us for a little longer. I like having you all to myself,” he explained, his voice dipped in soft honey. He pulled you in closer and kissed the corner of your mouth. His stubble tickled your skin and managed to produce a little giggle from your lips.  “Well, baby, you still have all of me to yourself even if you meet some of my friends. They’re really curious about you and wanna know who I spend all of my time with,” you retorted and pushed him away just a little to look at him.  Those ocean blue eyes, usually filled with so much warmth when he looked at you, clouded just a tiny bit when he noticed your reluctance to drop the topic.

He stayed quiet for a few seconds, and you felt the need to shrink away under his piercing stare, but you didn’t give up. “They’d love you.” “Sweetheart,” he began, “I wanna meet them. That’s not it. I just- I think I’m not ready to go there yet.”  Something in you cracked – just a little. It would be easy to smooth it over, to fill the fracture in your heart and piece it back together, if he just added a few more soothing words, so that you wouldn’t feel like an idiot for wanting your boyfriend to meet your loved ones. But his lips remained sealed and he simply ran a hand over your cheek. “Yeah?” He asked once he had noticed that you hadn’t answered.

No. Not yeah.  The words almost spilled out, but you clamped your teeth shut against each other, biting away the tears which threatened to fall.  “Okay, baby,” you said instead and nodded for good measure, ignoring the blistering pain, lit by insecurities, that burned its way through your mind. Bucky didn’t notice the way your waterline began to swim. He either genuinely thought that things were fine this way or he chose to ignore the way you mumbled a quick excuse to take a shower. Either option worsened the hurt you were already feeling.

In the bathroom you let the tears fall. You turned on the shower and stripped off your clothes as the salt streamed down your face. Your brain was working overtime as you wondered what was holding him back. Six months was already a long time to not have met your friends, but now, turning down your explicit request – it stung even more.  Little by little, moments of the last half year came back to you, rushing onto you like a thunderstorm.  His birthday when you had not been allowed to throw a party for him (“I’m fine celebrating just with my best girl”).  Turned down dinner invitations with his friends (“You’ll meet them soon, doll, don’t worry, just not tonight”).  A quick getaway from the bar he had taken you to once he had spotted Sam (“I’ll introduce you soon but not now, it’s not right”). The shower hid your sobs and blended right into your tears, so when you stepped out and rejoined Bucky in your bedroom, you made up some story about getting soap in your eyes to explain away the red rims.  I burn red for you Just a few weeks later, he splintered your already cracked heart. A simple night out, just the two of you of course, had gone sideways. A guy in a bar, drunk out of his mind and an asshole in general just to top it off, had wandering hands.  While Bucky sat at one of the tables, you had begged him to let you choose a drink for him and after successfully convincing him, you had made your way to the bartender. The drunk idiot next to you called out to you, shouting over the music to ask for, or much rather demand, your number. Despite ignoring him and then outright rejecting him, he didn’t get the hint and refused to give up.  His hands were on your arm for less than five seconds before he was ripped away with the flash of vibranium arm and his head collided with a brick wall.  Bucky’s chest heaved as he landed a few punches, two to the gut and multiple to the creep’s face, before all three of you were thrown out of the bar.  For a second you didn’t recognise the man before you. Fire raged in his eyes as he wrapped his metal fist around your wrist and pulled you down the street – to what he presumed safety. “Baby,” you winced, trying to free your arm from his tight grip. “Baby, please let go.” But he didn’t hear you. His body shielded you from the outside world when he led you, practically teared you, into an alleyway. Pushed against the wall, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, he frantically checked you for injuries and stopped abruptly when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.  “Sweetheart?” He asked, neck craning to search for threats, “What? What is it?” You wiggled your fingers hopelessly and whispered: “You’re hurting me.” No other feeling will ever compare to the one that swallowed you whole once your words had processed in his mind. His entire face dropped, and he put about ten feet between the two of you.  His gaze was glued to your arm where angry red marks, shaped and moulded to his fingerprints, sat accusatory.  “Sweetheart, I’m- I’m so sorry,” he murmured and stepped forwards, but he stopped himself before closing any real distance. “I’m- I didn’t mean to- I just saw his hands on you and I- fuck, I’m so sorry.” You exhaled deeply, trying to collect yourself, and wiped away the streaks on your face.  “It’s okay, Bucky,” you mumbled and walked towards him.  He shook his head and took another step back only to collide with the wall.  “No, it’s not okay. I- fuck- I hurt you.” Bucky’s voice trembled and his hands – both metal and flesh – closed into fists. “I’m so fucking sorry. I… I can’t explain it and there’s no excuse, but I- I saw how he touched you and it- I-,” he stumbled over his words, trying to make you understand, not seeing that you already did.  “I saw red. Nothing else. The only thing on my mind was getting you outta there.”

“I get it,” you replied gently and pulled your sleeves down, a feeble attempt at hiding the remnants of his grip.  You managed a smile and softened your voice. “It’s not your fault. But we’re safe. We’re okay. Alright?”  Feels like nobody knows The L-word had been on the tip of your tongue for months now. Pretty much since you had started dating. Bucky was easy to fall for. It took a little more effort to stay there with his closed off demeanour and reluctance to fully enter your world – he still hadn’t offered to introduce you to his friends and turned down any instance where he could have met yours. But it was worth it to you. You were royally whipped for him.  So, the word dangled between the two of you, unspoken but mutually felt – or so you hoped. It was another late night, cozied up together on your bed while a movie played in the background. Neither of you was paying much attention to the plot, instead the focus had drifted into a heated make-out session. His hands rested below your shirt, warmth seeping into your skin as he traced shapes onto your bare back.  You pulled away for a few seconds to take him in. Lips kissed rosy and swollen, a faint trace of a cocky smile on his face. His hair was messy from how often you had run your hands through it and a love-drunk haze veiled his eyes. 

It felt right to say it then. There was no doubt in you, no fears that you might be knocking on a closed door.  You breathed in deeply and placed another sweet kiss on his cheek before you said it.  “I love you.”

He froze.  You felt every single one of his muscles come to a halt below you. The thighs that had supported your weight on his lap went taut with tension and his fingers stopped moving. 

You had heard of fight or flight before, experienced it yourself a couple of times and had seen it in action on Bucky. But he had always chosen fight so far.  A punch thrown, a blow landed, a bullet shot.  But he had never frozen.  He sat below you, eyes trained on a spot behind you, and you were wondering if you needed to call Sam. Or 911.  He seemed almost catatonic, like a deer in headlights. You wished you were the deer and the headlights would come a little faster towards you. 

“Bucky?” You asked quietly, slowly easing off of his lap and his head snapped to you so quickly that it made you jump. “What?” His voice was hoarse, and you prayed that the ground would open up to swallow you.  “Did, uh, did you hear me?” You hated the way your voice shook, already feeling the prickling in your eyes.

He didn’t answer but he nodded slowly.  You hadn’t confessed your love to that many people yet in your life, but this was certainly the worst way it had ever gone.  “Uh, okay,” you whispered. There was a sharp crack on the last syllable of your words, and you instinctively covered your mouth with your hands.  You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to guilt-trip him into saying it back. You just wanted him to feel it, too.  “Doll,” he began, an apologetic tone tinging his voice, but you interrupted him.  “No, no, Bucky, I’m- I’m sorry, I, uh, you don’t need to say it back. It’s okay.”

It really, really wasn’t. Nine months, that’s how long you two were together now. Nine months of getting to know each other in and out, of spending days on end with each other and learning to love one another – at least that’s what you had thought.  You scrambled up from the couch, clutching the hem of your shirt in an attempt to bring yourself back to earth and to hinder the tears from falling. Bucky stayed in his spot, his eyes helplessly tracking your movements as you increased the distance between the two of you – not enough to translate the emotional distance you felt right now.

“Sweetheart, it’s not- fuck, I mean, it’s not that I don’t… you know. But I… I can’t,” Bucky urged quietly. His words made little sense to your mind as it was consumed by grief. Grief for what should have been.  “It’s fine,” you maintained and as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you to undermine your words, a single tear breached forward and slipped down your cheek. Do you really love me? Or just love to make me cry?

The following days were cruel. Both of you shut down completely.  Conversations were rare and seeing each other even rarer. You walked through your own apartment like a ghost, staring at your phone like it might light up with an apology, or an explanation or anything. But no, radio silence. You heard from Bucky twice. The first time, he sent you a quick text to tell you that he was needed for a mission and would be back in a few days. Then, the second message came once he’d returned from the mission, asking you if he could come over.  A ‘we need to talk’- text was rarely a good sign but you did. You needed to talk.  It had been a sleepless night for you already, so you said yes, despite the fact that it was a little after 1 a.m. and anxiety rolled over you in waves at the thought of him ending everything you two had worked towards.  The knock on your front door was accompanied by the loud boom of thunder. Rain hit the windows almost horizontally and wind rattled the glass.  When you opened the door, you saw that Bucky had just barely escaped the worst of the storm. A few drops pearled down from his leather jacket onto your door mat and you – curse your stupid heart – immediately ushered him inside and went to get him a towel.

The silence stretched in between you. He dried off quickly but kept his shoes on. One foot out the door already.  His boots squeaked as he walked towards you, and you saw it in his eyes. This would be your worst heartbreak to date. “Doll,” that wretched nickname, which usually gave you butterflies, now turned your stomach around, “I think… it’s… I-“

You listened to his stammers, his attempts at forming a sentence. Bucky usually seemed like the type of guy to have prepared a speech on the way here, but he was at a loss for words. He seemed like he was trying to spare you the heartache but there were no words invented for that. “Do you want to break up with me?” You asked bluntly.  He looked at the floor, then at you and then back at the floor. Barely perceptible, he shook his head. “No.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “But we should.” For a second, you closed your eyes. Blood rushed through your ears, quieting everything around you, and for just a moment you could pretend that he wasn’t here. That he hadn’t just said that. “Why?” You deserved to know at least that. You didn’t want to be left with no explanation, only the what-ifs and if-onlys to keep you comfort.  Another sigh, and you felt propelled to scream in his face. To yell at him, to slap him and to throw him out of your apartment. “I can’t do this- us,” he stammered. “Why, Bucky? Why?” You tried to swallow the tears, tried to suppress the voice crack but the air in your lungs didn’t suffice, not with the lump in your throat. 

He couldn’t look at you, instead he faintly shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know. I just…,” he trailed off, gesturing loosely to you before dropping his arms to his sides. “Do you not love me? Did I do something?” “No, sweeth-, no, that’s not it.” “Then what?” “I want to want this but I…,” he shrugged helplessly and for a second you caught his eyes, filled with despair and vulnerability. “But you don’t,” you finished his sentence for him. He shook his head again and this time kept up the eye contact. “No, I just can’t.” More tears fell and you wiped at them furiously, rubbing the skin on your cheeks raw. When you looked at him again, the only thing you saw was self-hatred. And you couldn’t stand it. You turned around. You heard movements, and begged God, the universe, anyone that he’d walk to you. The door slammed.  Lying next to you, ‘cause all you ever do is make me blue The continuous pitter patter of the rain lulled you to sleep in the early morning hours, the sky just shy of turning orange.

The tears had only found their end once you fell into a restless dream. Splatters of the fight, mixed with distorted visions of a future with Bucky that seemed out of reach forever broke forth from your subconscious and kept you from getting any rest.  Half drifted off, you registered the sounds of your door opening but you were in too deep to fully distinguish between your dream and the real world. But the warmth was real. The dip of the mattress was real. The shaky hand, flesh not metal, that rested timidly on your arm, was real.  You woke with a flinch, and it took a few seconds for your eyes to clear enough to see Bucky.  Disoriented and questioning if you were maybe hallucinating, you sat up. But no, he truly was here. Your vocal cords didn’t cooperate as you tried to say his name “I’m sorry.” He looked at you, and what you would have thought were leftovers of the rain, turned out to be tears on his cheeks.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated as you stayed quiet.  “You’re back,” you finally managed to say, the disbelief in your words unmistakable. “Yeah,” he confirmed quietly, “I shouldn’t have left in the first place.” “Then why did you?” He stayed silent for a beat, then began talking. “I broke your heart. And I couldn’t keep looking at you while you were… looking at me like that.” You tried to intercept, but he raised his hand slowly, asking you to let him continue. “I should have stayed. Because I want to. I want to be in your life. I just don’t know if I can allow myself to do that.” You shifted in bed, straightening up a little.  “I want you. I… I love you,” he whispered, “But I don’t get to have good things. Good people like you. They die or they leave. And I can’t let that happen to you. I need you to live forever.”

Theoretically, you would do anything for him. But that was a request you couldn’t fulfil. “Bucky,” you began, but he shook his head again. “No, I know. I know, okay? It’s unfair of me to say that. But it’s true. I won’t survive if you die, or if you leave. And that scares me. So, I pushed you away. And I’m sorry for that. But I just… I can’t put you through that. A life with me is not something you want.” “That’s not your choice,” you implored quietly. Now it was your turn to shush him when he tried to protest. “No, Bucky, really. It’s not your choice. It wasn’t even my choice. But I fell for you. I love you and if I could have chosen, I’d do it again.” “I can’t give you anything. Stability. Promises. A future.” “I don’t want anything. I just want you.” Your words came out a little louder, a little harsher. But something had to penetrate that thick wall in his head that he had spent way too long building. “I want you. Now. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. When you make me laugh and even when you make me cry.” You leaned forward and gently grabbed his chin, swiping at the tears that had made their descent into his beard.  “Do you hear me?”  “Yes, ma’am. I hear you. I just… I don’t know how to accept it.” “I’ll help you. I’ll make you accept it. Now, come lie down.” He shrugged of his jacket and took off his boots. Then, slowly he eased himself into bed next to you and after a moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry for making you cry,” he whispered against your hair. “It’s okay. You cried, too,” you replied quietly and pressed a kiss against his skin.

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[evesbookshop]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐀𝐔 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Elementary Ellie, who all but announced that you were her wife a few weeks into sharing the same first kindergarten class. Who dirties up the overalls Joel spends so much time cleaning just to be on her knees while plucking dandelions during recess to bring to you . And harps on and on to Joel about how he can’t forget food for her wife

Elementary Ellie, who stops calling you her wife around 2nd grade and settles for best friends , but god forbid a boy decide he has a crush on you. And you who talks her down while very sweetly rejecting the seven year old boy in front of you. Because well…you’re practically taken.

Elementary Ellie, who’s in fourth grade the first time kids make fun of her for being so protective of you. Who gets called words a kid shouldn’t be. And who sees you blow your top for the first time since kindergarten, because how dare they. (Joel also has a few choice words for the parents of those kids and slips you a 20 when your parents aren’t looking)

Middle school Ellie, who starts to get a little less possessive after that. Who still gets called names but shrugs it off, and who ignores the odd nauseas feeling she gets when a boy asks you out. And who goes home to cry when you get asked to be someone’s valentine and say yes.

Middle school Ellie, who starts distancing herself when she realizes she has a crush on her best friend. Who in the process absolutely shatters your heart, because why doesn’t she wanna be your friend anymore.

Middle school Ellie, who’s doing a really good job at not bothering you and suppressing whatever she’s got going on until she over hears you ranting to a group of girls about how sad you are. how you miss your best friend , and don’t know what you did wrong. She shows up at your house the next day and pulls some lie out of her ass about why she’s been so distant. Who’s little thirteen year old heart flutters when you give her a hug for the first time in weeks.

High school Ellie, who has come to terms with being in love with you. Who thinks she’s doing a really good job at hiding it but the closet has been glass since elementary. Even you know she’s gay, you just haven’t figured out who she likes.

High school Ellie, who gets her first girlfriend sophomore year. Her name is Dina, she’s an angel, and for some god forsaken reason you can’t brings yourself to like her. You yourself don’t even know why. Not till you all end up hanging out in a group of friends and you see the way Ellie’s hand sits on her waist, or pushed the hair out of her face. That’s when you realize, you wish it was you instead.

High school Ellie, who thinks maybe this is her karma for those few weeks in middle school when you start avoiding her. And she’s the one who wants to know what she’s done, hell her chasing you around got so bad Dina dumped her. And while she’s mildly upset, really doesn’t care as much as she should because she misses you instead.

High school Ellie, who backs you into a corner while you’re walking home, not her best look, and asks you why you’re avoiding her. Who takes great offense when you tell her to go hang out with her girlfriend and corrects you saying Ex immediately followed by a “what the fuck is your problem”. And who blue screens when you grab her face and smash your lips into hers before rebooting and breathing you in like it’s the first gasp of air she’s had in her entire life

College Ellie, who shares an apartment with you , her girlfriend. Who’s still a little nervous around you and blushes when you compliments her. Whose favorite place to kiss you is pressed against the wall because it reminds her of the first time. And who can’t wait to make you her wife, again.

[briarscreek]

You had a blind date. On Valentine’s Day.

And they didn’t show up.

You had never felt so stupid in your life. Apparently, the only free day that you and your date had was on Friday. February 14th. Go figure.

The waiter had already come by 3 times to ask if you were ready to order or if you were going to leave. They didn’t say specifically to leave but you got the gist. Another person to take up their time and tips.

Frustrated tears began in the corner of your eyes while you packed your belongings, eager to get out of the humiliation of other couples stares and the cheap paper heart decor lining the restaurant.

This guy your friend set you up with seemed perfect. On paper at least. Kind, funny, flirty, and more is what she promised you.

It wasn’t until you were almost standing out of your booth that a very handsome man in a suit strode over in a huff. Mutton chopped beard and biceps for days, as he looked you in the eyes. God, his eyes were so blue.

“I apologize darling, I came straight from work and traffic was a nightmare.”

He kissed your cheeks quickly like an old friend.

“I wanted to message ya, but I didn’t think the cops would appreciate someone texting and driving on Valentine’s Day.”

Maybe that softened your heart. Just a little.

“You’re almost 45 minutes late.”

“It’ll be the first and last time I’ll ever be late, darling.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face slowly that time.

John, as he introduced himself, was kinder than you thought he’d be. Flirty at just the right moments and careful with his words, like he wanted to make sure you knew he meant every single word.

The date went amazingly well, he even made you giggle so much that you snorted and immediately felt embarrassed about it. He said he’d take that as a compliment as he pulled your hands away from your mouth.

Just as desert rolled around, you excused yourself to the bathroom and texted your friend, lettering her know you’re having an amazing time with John. Her next text came in just as you finished washing your hands.

who’s john?

Coming back to sit down at the booth, you immediately asked;

“You’re not my actual blind date, are you?”

He stopped mid chew of his chocolate torte, gaze flicking up to yours. Like a kid caught in a cookie jar.

“No, darling. I’m not. I actually had a take out order here but when I saw the prettiest bird in my life alone at a table, I couldn’t leave her.”

Your anger rose just a tad.

“So this was a pity date.”

“No.” He was so firm in his answer.

“I’d have asked you out anywhere if we crossed paths earlier but you were already dressed, sitting here waiting. I couldn’t pass on this golden opportunity, could I?”

Now you were glad that your actual date never showed up. John proved to be so much better, in more ways than one.

[rodolfoparras]

A Man Can Dream (or so he’s been told)

+18 MDNI +18

Synopsis:

In which he doesn’t mind the age gap

comments, not at all

Cw: top male reader, dom male reader, age gap, exhibition kink, someone thinks he’s your dad and he likes it, Valentine’s Day date!

Thinking about dating an old man who isn’t bothered about the age gap comments matter of fact he finds that he enjoys them, especially when he comes across someone who thinks you’re his son, and the two of you just happen to have a really close bond

“Raised him right” of course, taught you how to keep a cock in your mouth, brought you to your knees and stretched your throat just right til he was sure you carried an indent of his cock on your tongue.

“Like father like son,” the words echo in his mind as he watches you spit into the palm of your hand, eagerly stroking his tip, before spreading it to the rest of his dick, just like he had showed you when you first fucked him.

Those people probably think he’s a pervert , a disgusting old man taking advantage of someone so young and innocent, walking hand in hand with someone who could be his son or something

But they don’t know how’d you’d willingy bend him over in front of those very same people, spreading his legs so wide you’re sure to give a show to whoever’s behind, force his hand behind his back before driving up into him.

He’d beg and plead: for you to slow down your brutal pace, to spare him the embarrassment but you wouldn’t listen to him, only using him as a hole to sheath your cock in, all while grinning at the people watching.

He wonders if they’d realize then that you’re the perverted one here, that he’s tried to reject you multiple times, thought the very same thing as the onlookers are thinking now but you wouldn’t give up, practically cornered him riled him up til he was painfully hard in his pants and couldn’t do anything else but shove his cock into your mouth, letting someone who could practically be his son give him the best blowjob he’d ever gotten.

He’d continue to watch the onlookers and the flurry of emotions on their faces : the look of surprise that turns into disgust before something else bleeds into it, something he’d almost dare call desire. The sudden realization would make him tightening around your dick which in turn would fasten the brutal pace you have on him. Eventually he wouldn’t be able to ignore the heat coiling in his groin, and he’d realize belatedly he’s fucking himself back onto your cock, even though his body aches in protest and his thrusts are nothing but sloppily and sporadic.

Somehow you’d find it in yourself to show him mercy: slightly shifting your positions to give him a bit more leverage. In that very moment he’d be sure the sky had been cracked open, pearly gates of heaven practically welcoming him, stairs cascading right at his feet. But the sudden white light that flashes past his eyes would blind him, the pearly gates disappearing as something else is presented to him: his orgasm, washes over him in violent waves til he forgets all about god angels and heaven , cock spurting ropes of cum til he’d feel like he’s been wrung dry.

God, heaven and angels be damned.

“Love? Love?“

Suddenly a voice breaks through the daze. Mellow and sweet. Had an angel decided to wait around for him?

But when he blinks a couple of times, he sees your concerned face staring back at him, the aroma of coffee surrounding him, a half finished coffee cup clinging onto his fingers it’s almost hurting him

“Are you okay?”

Right.

Coffee shop. Date. You. Him.

“If it’s about the waiter from earlier..”

Right. Waiter. Curly hair. Warm eyes. Thought it was sweet that you were spending Valentine’s Day with your dad, like that very same man wasn’t palming your cock under the table, like he hadn’t sucked you off before you got to the coffee shop, like he wasn’t fantasizing about all the ways you could fuck him in front of these people.

Dad. Dad. Dad

Suddenly he springs up in his seat, mutters something about needing the restroom before scurrying away from where you’re sitting.

Jesus christ.

[explicit-tae]

Family Matters

The only way Yoongi, your brother-in-law, would agree to be your sperm donor is if he could be the one to fuck said sperm into you.

Word Count: 8.686

Warning: affair/cheating, kissing, light alcohol intake, dirty talking, impregnation kink, oral sex (f/m) nipple sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, doggystyle, orgasms,

Valentine's Day Masterlist - Part Two

 “Y/N…?”  

The last person he was expecting to see at his door was you, his brother’s wife. The same brother he is currently estranged from thanks to his parents, who had pinned them against one another the entirety of their lives. 

Yo-han, Yoongi’s older brother, wasn’t the prodigal son in their parents' eyes. Yoongi was. Yo-han did exactly what was expected of him. He had high grades in school while Yoongi didn’t, though it didn’t mean he didn’t pass. Yo-han went above and beyond with his studies while Yoongi did enough to pass. His B’s didn’t compare to his brothers A’s.

Yo-han went to college and was on the dean’s list. He worked his way up from the bottom just as his parents desired. He had a high paying job right outside of college and was able to give back to the parents that gave everything they could to their two sons.

Yoongi, however, went down an unforgivable path. How dare their son have his own dreams and aspirations. How dare he not want to go to college like his elder brother and work his way up the corporate ladder? Why would he spend nearly a decade of his life pursuing a career in music when obviously that wasn’t going to take him anywhere in life?

Even now, after his music did take off and touring the world, there was a loneliness in him. He felt that even now that he’s proven himself worthy, his parent’s didn’t think so.

“Yoongi.” you flash him a smile, holding onto your purse a bit tighter. You’re unsure if you being here was appropriate. You’ve only ever seen Yoongi a handful of times, all in which was left with the man leaving far too early. He wasn’t even present on your wedding day. “Are you busy?”

Yoongi blinks a few times and proceeds to open the door to his home a bit wider. “Did you want to come in?” he asks, uncertain if that’s what you wanted.

“Yes, thank you!” you nod. “I wanted to talk to you about something if that was okay with you?”

Yoongi steps out of the way as you enter, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you enter the foyer of his home. You take them off, turning towards Yoongi with a small grin.

“I don’t mean to seem rude, Y/N,” Yoongi begins, closing the front door to his home. It’s lavish, you’d admit, high ceilings and furnished quite modernly. “but why are you here? Is Yo-han okay?”

Yoongi allows you to come deeper into his home. The living space is large and homely. He offers you a seat on his leather chair and he rounds the corner to a bar area where there’s an array of wine aligning the wall.

“Wine?” Yoongi questions. “I have…harder liquor, too.” he’s a bit awkward when speaking with you. You were his brother’s wife for nearly five years now and he has no relationship with you.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Whiskey it is then.”

Wasn’t expecting that, especially at this time, but you aren’t going to complain. Yoongi places two clear cups onto the coffee table in front of each of you as he sits across from you. He pours the whiskey in two clear glasses and slides you one. 

“What do I owe the visit, Y/N?” Yoongi asks, taking a sip of his drink.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” you murmur, manicured hands grasping the glass and shaking it around a bit. “Yo-han doesn’t know I’m here. He’s on a business trip.”

Yoongi furrows a brow. He watches you for a moment, pondering why you are telling him all of this and what was the real reason you were here.

“You…are a very amazing artist.”

Yoongi blinks. 

“Did you come all this way to tell me that?” Yoongi questions with a scoff.

“No, I’m sorry.” you murmur. You drink the whiskey in whole. It hits your throat and burns immediately, but you need all the liquid courage available. “Can I have more?”

Nodding slowly, Yoongi watches as you pour yourself more and down half of it. Your chest heaves a bit.

“Is everything okay, Y/N? You look nervous?” Yoongi notes. “Is everything alright with you and Yo-han?”

You nod hastily with a wave. “Yes, everything is fine. Promise.” you laugh, but even you sound unsure of yourself. 

Yoongi doesn’t pry any further.

“You don’t come around often, Yoongi.” you state. “I feel as if I don’t truly know you personally. I see you as Suga. Or Agust D.”

Yoongi furrows his brows. Was that why you’re here? To get to know him better? Even after all these years he finds it unbelievable, but possible.

“I’m aware. I’m sure you know I’m not the favorite.” Yoongi responds, almost bitterly. “Even after the home I bought my parents.”

The last line was uncalled for. By social media posts, Yoongi’s sure you have a good relationship with his parents, but everything that glitter isn’t exactly gold, right?

“Yo-han speaks of you fondly.”

“Does he?” Yoongi snickers. He drinks the whiskey and decides that he should probably follow your lead. “That’s nice to know, right? My older brother finally sees me as worthy enough to speak about after my success.”

Your foot taps lightly against the floor in nervousness. You bite your lip. Was this the right thing to ask without your husband's approval? You knew Yo-han loved his brother, but at times he would joke about how long it took for Yoongi’s music to take off, no matter how good said music was.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Yoongi is silent on your question. It comes randomly after a few moments of silent drinking. 

“I apologize if that’s too personal-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Yoongi shakes his head. “No, I do not. I often shut myself into my craft too long. I’m a perfectionist and I don’t really have time to settle down.”

You nod in agreement. You noticed in Yoongi’s music how serious he took it - the touring, as well. Having a family wasn’t something he desired now and you could respect it fully.

“What about you and Yo-han?” Yoongi speaks up. “Are you trying for a baby? My mother always said she wanted to be a grandmother.” he chuckles a bit at how hard his mother can be.

You inhale deeply, placing the cup onto the coffee table. Exhaling, you nod your head.

“That’s what I wanted to speak with you about, actually.”

“Oh?” Yoongi furrows a single brow. He leans back into his seat. “I take it as you aren’t pregnant now for obvious reason.” he says, motioning to the liquor on the coffee table and your empty glass.

“You’re right, not yet.” you chuckle humorlessly. You needed to do this. No going back. After all, the worst thing Yoongi could say was “no” and that would be perfectly fine with you. “Yo-han works a lot.”

Yoongi nods a bit. “I understand. Our family can be workaholics.” he says. “He couldn’t take Valentine’s Day off?” he jokes a bit. Valentine’s day didn’t matter to people like him. He was single.

“He never does.” you admit, crossing your legs. Yoongi tilts his head, observing the look in your eyes. “We tend to celebrate it the first week of February then he’s out of town for work the following week.”

“You can’t go with him?” Yoongi questions with a shrug. He knows you don’t work. Yo-han had always stated that he wanted a stay at home wife. Life could be boring for you, he’s sure. You were alone often and didn’t have anything to do if you weren’t one that was big on hobbies.

“Yo-han prefers for me to stay home.”

“You say his name a lot.” Yoongi hums. He pours himself another shot. “You say what he wants a lot, too, Y/N. You haven’t said anything you wanted yet.”

You bite your bottom lip as Yoongi states the obvious. He drinks his whiskey as he watches you, awaiting for you to respond.

“I want a baby.”

Yoongi licks his lips of the whiskey. It’s beginning to fall down his throat like water now. 

“That’s nice. Are you two trying for one?”

Speaking with you was becoming more relaxing. He wished he would have more of a brother/sister-in-law relationship with you prior to now, but maybe you coming here was an attempt in doing just that.

“Yo-han-”

“Doesn’t want kids? Doesn’t want kids now?” Yoongi finishes your sentence with a furrow of his brows. His lips turn into a smirk. “Am I right?”

“You are.” you sigh, body warm with embarrassment. “He…he’s very cautious. He doesn’t even…” Should you be discussing your husband with his brother like this? “...allow himself to not wear condoms.”

Yoongi doesn’t want to appear rude when he laughs, but it sounds exactly like the Yo-han he knows. The same Yo-han that doesn’t want to have anyone stop him from climbing to the top - not even if it’s what his own wife wants. The same wife he forces to stay home alone half of the time. You couldn’t make any of this up.

“I was correct when I said everything that glitter isn’t gold.” Yoongi murmurs to himself, deciding to pour himself another shot. This time, he pours you one. Seemed like you needed it. “Do you have friends?”

You scoff at his question, taking the glass and downing the shot alongside him. “Are you calling me a lonely bitch?”

Yoongi laughs aloud while shaking his head. “Of course not!” he exclaims. “You being here…is not what I expected. It’s nice, though. Not everyone can keep up with drinking with me.”

You notice how much Yoongi and Yo-han looked alike. The dark hair that frames their face with eyes to match. Pale, smooth skin that appears like glass as it’s clear of blemishes. Yoongi was much more youthful, allowing himself to  joke with you in a way your husband doesn’t.

“My friends are all busy with their own lives and children.” you state with a shrug. “I’m sorry I’ve come unannounced.”

“You’re always welcomed, Y/N. You’re family.” Yoongi waves off. “You’re the only family that comes.”

The pair of you both sound bitter for your own reasonings. Wishing to ask him something makes your heart jolt in betrayal as you hadn’t bothered to gain a relationship with your brother-in-law prior to now. It made you appear selfish as this was your only goal.

“Why the long face?”

Yoongi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“I feel selfish for being here.” you admit. ‘’I came…to ask you something.”

Yoongi blinks. “That’s okay.” he says, placing his glass down onto the coffee table. “What do you need?”

Your palms grow sweaty as Yoongi appears genuinely willing to help. The years you’ve sat and listened to your husband bash his younger brother for not having the same aspirations of him makes you wish you spoke up on his behalf more often. 

“Y/N…?”

“I wanted your sperm so I can have a baby.” you blurt out, embarrassment flowing throughout your entire body. He possibly thinks you’re in need of money and here you are asking for his sperm. “But now I know I sound like a fucking lunatic asking you-”

“Y/N,”

“-and I should just go now, right?” you laugh nervously with a shake of your head. “Yo-han doesn’t want kids and me pretending that this child is his isn’t fair to him or you-”

“Y/N.”

“-and I’m such a bitch for-”

“Y/N!”

You stop your rambling with Yoongi’s voice echoing off of his walls and high ceiling.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice. You weren’t listening to me.” Yoongi apologizes.

“You’re not the asshole they make you out to be.” you blurt out. Maybe this was the alcohol talking now, allowing you not to hold in anything any longer. “I’m sorry-”

“None taken.” Yoongi snickers. He knows how he is spoken about in his family and it doesn’t bother him as it once did, even if it does still sting a bit. 

“Please forget I said anything, Yoongi.”

“Why?”

You freeze at Yoongi’s question. Slowly, your eyes lift to his, to find that he’s already looking your way.

“You want a baby, right?” Yoongi asks. “You’ve come to me for help.”

“I do…” you trail off. “But coming to you was selfish-”

“I’ll do it.”

You stare at Yoongi in disbelief. Maybe he was just drunk and agreeing to it because it sounds like the right thing to do at the moment.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” you queried. 

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” he shots back. “I agreed.”

“I…I wasn’t expecting to get this far, Yoongi.” you murmur. You lean up a bit, eyes cloudy. 

Yoongi chuckles at your reaction. It’s sad that he was going to make his own proposition to this.

“How did you expect to go about this exactly?”

“Well,” you lift yourself up to round the coffee table to sit beside Yoongi on his loveseat. “we can go to a clinic, right? You can…ejaculate-”

“Cum.”

Your body warms once more, but you nod your head with a little laugh. “Yes. Cum.” you say. “In a cup and I suppose the doctor can-”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Yoongi thinks for a moment that it isn’t fair to you with what he’s about to say next. It isn’t your fault that you were married into this family of his, nor should he take the frustration of his brother out on you. But he wouldn’t force anything onto you, and once he sobered up more, he would do as you asked and go to a clinic.

But as for now, Yoongi was being selfish.

“I want to do it naturally.”

The silence that comes afterwards is telling. You could hear a pin drop in the living area. Your eyes slowly wide towards Yoongi as he watches you as relaxed as ever.

“You want to fuck me?’

Maybe your response is crude, but his proposal was, as well. You were married to his brother and this would obviously be inappropriate.

However, so were you coming here behind your husband's back. It was a lose-lose situation either way.

“I know it’s wrong to want.” Yoongi admits, leaning into the leather couch. “But…”

Yoongi doesn’t finish his statement but you’re positive you understand what he’s attempting to say. You admitted to the things said about him and now it’s a form of revenge. You couldn’t be upset about it, truly.

“You…you won’t tell anyone?” you whisper, so low that it barely catches Yoongi’s ears. “It’ll be a secret you and I die on, right?”

Yoongi himself is astonished that you’re even considering it. He leans forward a bit with a lick of his lips.

“I won’t tell a soul.” Yoongi murmurs. “I’m not forcing you into doing this, Y/N. I’m a little drunk, I’m not going to lie.” he advises. Looking into your eyes, he doesn’t want to be that person. You’re already taken advantage of  enough by your husband. “You can come back in a few hours when I sober up and we can set up a meeting-”

“I want to.” you place a hand onto Yoongi’s cheek to silence him. “I want you to fuck a baby into me.”

Yoongi is but a man, and the words alone cause him to grow hard. He doesn’t act first, you do. You place your lips onto his, deepening the kiss needily. Maybe it was because you wanted to feel a man's hands on you, as selfish as it was. You missed your husband and only sleeping with him once a month before he eventually goes on another work trip causes you to be lonely.

Yoongi himself cannot remember when he’s been with a woman. He has random hookups that always signed with an NDA before anything happens, but that’s during tour, not as he’s recording an album. The liquor flowing through him adds the courage to wrap both arms around you and bring you into his lap. 

Yoongi’s hands are large as they rub along your body, causing moans to bubble up your throat but fall silent at your lips. This was wrong in so many ways. You are his sister-in-law, and beyond popular belief, he held a lot of respect for you. Only a strong woman could deal with Min Yo-han and his parents. However, the dirty words that you spoke to him were so tempting. He believes every man - even if they want a child or not - has a certain kink to them that is excited to impregnate a woman.

Yoongi isn’t alone with the same thoughts. Yo-han and Yoongi favored each other so much, but were so different. Yo-han is often straight to the point, sometimes not even kissing you. Yoongi is different, he takes this slow. He allows his hands to roam your body with such greed, as if it belongs to him - and for tonight, it does. He kisses your lips needily, but he savors the taste of them. He allows his lips to fall onto your chin to leave wet little pecks that lower to your neck.

“There’s no going back, Y/N.”

Yoongi’s voice is so deep against your neck. He’s fighting against his morals now, wanting nothing more than to fuck you like you want him to. Yet, he understands that this is wrong to take advantage of you in a vulnerable position. You didn’t come here for this.

“I know.” you moan back, your hips buckling. “Do you want to stop?”

Yoongi swallows. His hands settle onto your waist. “We…should…” he murmurs. As painful as it was for him to say. His hands grip onto your waist, his body going against what his mouth is speaking. “...we should stop this but…” he groans, his lips kissing against your neck. 

“No one has to know.” you respond, your own hands tugging at Yoongi’s dark tresses a bit. 

Yoongi will know, and so will you. When you fall pregnant and grow round with his child, he would know that it was him who did it for you. When you hold the child and raise it, it would be dark eyes that belonged to Yoongi, not Yo-han.

Was that something both of you could fathom?

“If this is truly what you want.” Yoongi mumbles. “We don’t have to do it here.”

Yoongi leans his head back to study your expression.

“We can go to my room.” Yoongi continued, unsure if that was too much. Yet, all of this was too much to begin with. 

“Okay.” you nod your head.

“How do you want to do this?”

Yoongi’s room is large, even bigger than your room at your home. It’s simple and screams Yoongi with a dark aesthetic. The bed is large for one man and is neatly made, as if he doesn’t sleep in here often. Maybe he didn’t as even if Yoongi and Yo-han were different, they were both Min’s and they worked their asses off.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sitting on his bed. 

“We can just…have sex for the sake of me cumming in you.” Yoongi does the same as you. “Or we can do more…”

Your thighs clench together a bit, body warming. 

“What do you want to do?” you ask him with a tilt of your head. 

“I want to eat you out.” Yoongi responds bluntly that it causes you to laugh at how straightforward he was. “But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

You remove your shirt and throw it aside and go to do the same for your pants. Yoongi watches with low eyes as you begin to undress.

“Yo-han is too straight-forward.” you say to Yoongi, inching your way towards him. You place a hand onto his shoulders, placing your lips on his in a short, but needy kiss. “He doesn’t tend to do…a lot.”

Keyword for he tends to just worry about his own needs; Yoongi understands. He acts in a way he interprets you want him to. He pushes you onto his bed, the silk sheets cool at the touch, but otherwise comfortable. He wraps your smooth legs around his waist, his bulge pressed firmly against you.

You groan at how hard Yoongi was, arms wrapped around his neck.

Yoongi is a man starved, his hands going to remove your bra and throw it aside. 

“I’d fuck you every night if you were my wife.” Yoongi gruffs, his tongue trailing down to your chest. Your nipples are hard for him and he wastes no time in suckling on the first one he finds. 

There’s adrenaline flowing through the both of you at this forbidden act. The way you moan so loudly for Yoongi to continue to suckle on breasts that didn’t belong to him. The way he does so effortlessly, appearing as starved for this as you were. 

Yoongi can suckle onto your breast all night until they’re swollen, but there’s another place he wants to put his lips on.

The feeling of Yoongi’s wet lips against your skin causes you to groan. It’s all entirely too surreal to fully grasp, especially on how willing Yoongi is to do this with you. How sudden it happened, without much thought. You could blame this on a drunken night, but that would only be a lie. You both were coherent enough to know what you were doing - and how much the both of you truly wanted to do this.

“W-What?”

Yoongi blinks his eyes a few times as your voice reaches his ears.

Your head lifted a bit from his bed when you noticed Yoongi had stopped between your legs and hadn’t done anything.

“Sorry,” Yoongi murmurs, placing his lips onto your inner thighs and gently pressing a kiss. “You’re very….pretty.”

Yoongi’s cheeks dusted a soft pink color at his own words and before you can react and possibly make this entire situation more awkward, his tongue licks between your folds. Your back arches a bit at the warmth of his tongue, but you don’t have time to process it.

Yoongi suckles onto your clit with such determination, large hands grasping both of your thighs so you aren’t able to move from him. 

Yoongi misses hearing a woman move for him. He was prone to lock himself away when he was busy working for months at a time. He was dedicated to his craft and while he was in the midst of recording an album, he didn’t need to be distracted. You, however, were the perfect distraction. 

Yoongi focuses solely on the way your thighs quiver as his tongue toys with your clit. His eyes flicker upward a bit, catching a glimpse of the way your mouth falls open to let out such melodic moans.

“I want you to cum on my tongue before I fuck mine in you.”

Your body shudders at such dirty words coming from your brother-in-law. Yoongi wasn’t a man of many words, especially not the times you’ve met him. Yet, here he was now. So confident and cool, a side so different from the mysterious demeanor he always held.

Dare you say you liked this Yoongi.

“Your tongue feels so good.” you gasp out, your stomach churning. Were you making it obvious that you weren’t used to this?

Yoongi already knows, of course. Even if you didn’t tell him, he notices just by the way you continue to act. Your hands are unsure where to go - one moment they’re clenching the bedsheets to yanking at his scalp; acts he doesn’t mind.

Yoongi leans back a bit, licking his lips of your juices. “Yeah?” he says smug, thumb pressing against your swollen clit. He rubs it gently just to tease you, tilting his head. “You wanna sit on it?”

The seriousness of Yoongi's tone stops you from giggling at what sounds like it could be a joke. You blink your eyes open.

“On your…” you’re confused on what exactly he wants you to sit on. 

“My face.” Yoongi deadpans. His dark eyes reach yours and he offers a low smirk. “Mind as well make the most of it.”

“Oh…okay.”

You don’t want to sound too eager, but it’s not a position you’ve ever been in. After all, Yoongi was right. The both of you mind as well make the most of this fucked up situation.

“Good.” Yoongi hums, lying beside you. “Face me.”

You’re far too conscious to actually sit on Yoongi’s face as he wants you to as the position itself is awkward. Your thighs quiver slightly and before you can ask if this was right, Yoongi’s hands - large and veiny - grasp onto your hips to press you down against his tongue. His eyes watch for your reaction, especially when you gasp out at his actions.

Yoongi’s willingness to eat you out is beyond the alcohol now - he actually wants to do this. He licks onto your clit as if he’s starved, his large hands gripping your hips to roaming down to your thighs. 

It’s deeper than that, of course. It’s deeper than Yoongi just wanting to pleasure you. He does, of course. But down within his core that he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, Yoongi knows it’s about his brother. Even if Yo-han was the preferred son with a high paying job that his parents preferred, it was him you chose to go to. Min Yoongi, the younger Min son who decided that his love for music outweighed what he felt for his own family that dubbed him an outcast. 

It was Yoongi who was pleasuring you now, his tongue flat against your clit, his head bobbing from side to side as his large hands grip at your naked skin. 

It was Yoongi who you were moaning so lovingly for, your delicate hands gripping his hair in your grasp, fluttering eyes watching him. 

It was him - Yoongi. The one who his family deemed unworthy and yet, here you are. You sought him out to impregnate you - something his brother couldn’t (or refused) to do. And he was going to enjoy every fucked up minute of it. In the end when it was time for him to meet his maker, he would pay for this sin he willingly partaken in.

Yoongi is painfully hard, his cock tight in his sweatpants. It twitches to be released - but he had all night with you. His brother wasn’t home and there wasn’t a rush, right?

“Yoon…Yoongi…” you moan his name so sweet that Yoongi groans against your clit, his hands roaming towards your ass. When he grips it do you moan his name once more, your eyes clenching shut.

Your hips begin to buckle a bit against his tongue, and Yoongi further encourages you by slapping your ass a bit teasingly. Your head hangs back a bit, soft “fuck” and “shit” coming from your gasping lips. You don’t realize just how loud you were becoming after each buckle of your hips, no longer feeling as self-conscious as you were originally - nor did Yoongi mind, either.

“Feels so good…” you hum, your hanging head now falling forward to look down at the man who’s causing you such great pleasure. Your eyes lock with his dark ones and you bite your lip a bit. “...we shouldn't be doing this.”

It was a statement. Neither of you stop and Yoongi’s hands only glide upwards to grasp your breast in his hands, squeezing them with such need. Your free hand places itself on top of his larger one, your walls clenching around nothing in general and you’re positive that you were going to cum soon.

You never cum from oral before and the thought just causes you  to squeal.

You were hot, Yoongi thinks. Utterly gorgeous that it upsets him that this was going to be the only time he was going to have you on his tongue. His tongue laps between your folds with such haste and need, determined to make you cum so he can taste what his brother doesn’t deserve. To think that his brother once flaunted you around with his arm around you just for you to be here with him.

You’re cumming entirely too fast for your liking, your toes curling. You stopped grinding against his tongue and instead allowed Yoongi to regain control, his free hand gripping your outer thigh and slightly lifting himself forward. He suckles roughly onto your sensitive bud until your thighs are shaking with overstimulation. Your breathing is hitched, your stomach clenching.

Yoongi is satisfied when you cum, spewing a line of curse words that a woman like you surely would never use. His entire lips and chin is coated with your juices when he finally allows a moment to rest, your body falling onto his bed.

Licking his lips, Yoongi glances your way.

“My brother must not make you cum enough.” he murmurs, dark eyes watching with satisfaction.

You don’t respond to Yoongi. You understand the bitterness in his tone. You don’t blame Yoongi for speaking of his brother the way he does. Your husband, in shorter words, can be an asshole. Especially to those he feels as though he is better than.

Or jealous of.

“I love him.” you say. It’s been a full five minutes before you respond to him. You managed to stop your thighs from quivering enough for your body to sit up. “I don’t doubt it.” Yoongi says. He watches you with hooded eyes as you crawl towards him until you’re hovering above him. 

“He’s jealous of you.”

You’re unsure why you’re telling Yoongi this. It’s going to do nothing but feed his ego more in knowing this along with fucking his wife. 

“He…would say he never knew you would be this successful.” you tell him, leaning down to press a deep kiss against his lips. You can taste yourself, and the act turned you on even further. 

Instantly, Yoongi wraps his arms around you. His hands rub along your smooth skin.

“I always knew you’d be successful.”

Your words cause Yoongi’s breath to hitch when you lean yourself away from him. Your lips kiss along his own jaw. 

“The way you speak makes me feel like you wanted this longer than you make out.”

Your tongue slowly trails along his chin before dipping down to his neck. 

“And if I did?”

Your tongue proceeds to trace the outline of his ear. Goosebumps erupt on his skin.

“I’ll fuck you right now, Y/N.” Yoongi grumbles, his fingernails digging into your hips and he thrusts his clothed cock towards your naked clit.

“I want to suck your cock first.”

You move faster than Yoongi can process. You’re already sliding down his body and hooking your hands beneath his pants to tug them down. 

You should be expecting Yoongi to be aroused, but not this erect. His cock looks like it hurts with how fast it springs out of his underwear. The tip is leaking pre-cum and it twitches when you wrap a hand around the base.

Yoongi hisses when your warm tongue wraps around his tip, suckling it like a lolipop. His eyes instantly roll, not remembering the last time he felt a woman’s mouth. He always was told that he worked too hard and he couldn’t help it - especially since he was a Min. You came  to Yoongi during a vulnerable time of need and it was no wonder he didn’t deny you.

“Shit, Y/N…”

You take his cock deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head sloppily as you suckle on his cock. The sounds of your gurgling mixed with Yoongi’s moans and curse words has you dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t recall the last time you were this wet for your own husband.  

Your eyes flicker upwards to watch Yoongi’s face. So handsome and reminiscent of Yo-han. His dark hair falls into his eyes, pink lips falling open to let out lustful moans. 

Your sucking and slurping erupted throughout the room, sounding just as sloppy as it looks. 

You don’t usually do this yourself - not because you don’t like it. You enjoy the lewd act immensely. You just refused to do it if your husband wouldn’t do the same. Yoongi so willing to go down on you caused you to want to do the same for him, the tip of his cock deep in your throat now. Your eyes are glossy with tears and determination, wanting to please the man just as he was determined to pleasure you.

“I’m not…” Yoongi hisses, a veiny hand going to grasp your hair to stop you. “...not cumming in your mouth, baby.”

Yoongi forces his cock - as much as he didn’t want to - out from your greedy lips. Saliva draws down the corner of your mouth, connecting it to his tip. Yoongi pants and shakes his head.

The pet name Yoongi calls you wants you to bring the cock right back into your mouth. It sounds so good coming from Yoongi, so natural. As if it’s a pet name he called you often.

“I’m gonna cum in you.”

“Please.” you beg, licking your lips. “Want you to fill me.”

Yoongi groans, his cock twitching. His hand is still tangled in your hair and he grips it a bit tighter. He takes a deep breath.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Yoongi questions. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Yoongi and his need to assure that you were comfortable was heartwarming. It nearly causes you to smile.

“Are you the vanilla type?” you joke.

“I’m whatever you’d want me to be.” Yoongi chuckles. His mind flashes with different ways he could have you - both passionately and disrespectfully.

Your hands, that lay on his thigh, slide forward. Past his torso to grip his shoulders.

“Follow my lead.” you say, getting to your feet just to sit onto his lap. Your clit is directly against his cock and you want nothing more than to grind against him, but this wasn’t the moment. You needed to feel him inside of you.

Yoongi does as you say, going to push off his pants so he can maneuver better. His hands lay upon your hips as you sit upon him, bringing his cock inside of you slowly. Yoongi lets out a low and deep groan, your pussy gripping around him so tightly.

Yoongi didn’t have a wife and that meant the sex he did have was just casual sex with women who signed NDA’s and wore condoms.

Now, however, it was different. This might be a one time thing, but to get to feel your pussy, so wet and warm wrapped around his cock was amazing. How could his brother not want to be inside of you at any given moment? How could he restrain himself from feeling you raw? Surely there had to be other forms of birth control besides a condom.

You’re needy to feel him deep inside of you, your arms wrapping around his neck as you begin to pounce. Your pussy clenches with each thrust, rising and falling sloppily. 

“Your pussy’s so wet.” Yoongi quips, voice deeper. His breathing is deep and his arms only tighten around your frame. His palms roam your naked skin greedily. 

You lean forward to place your lips against his, your tongue forcing your way through his lips. Your bare chest presses against his clothed one.

“Your cock feels so good.” you say between hushed kisses. You begin to shift yourself, your feet planted on the bed either side of him. 

This was bad.

You shouldn’t be here or agreed to this. 

You shouldn’t have allowed Yoongi to eat you out and you shouldn’t have sucked his cock.

It was far too late now, of course. There was no going back; especially with his cock plunging so deep inside of you.

Yoongi’s eyes roll with pleasure with each rise and fall of your hips. Skin slapping erupts throughout the room, followed by your squeals and his grunts. 

“My brother doesn’t deserve this.”

It’s difficult for Yoongi not to mention your husband, and maybe the sick side of you that knew this was wrong acknowledged that deep down, you enjoyed Yoongi’s praises. It was something you didn’t experience at home.

“You do?” you ask with a curt, smug snort and soon a soft moan. 

Yoongi’s cock was stretching you out in a way you needed, even if it had been just a few short weeks. Sex with Yoongi, though a one time thing, was something you didn’t know you needed until now. You rise and fall against his cock, pussy squeezing with such pleasure and desire that Yoongi’s nails dig into the skin of your hips. It was evident that neither of you wanted to stop.

“I do.” Yoongi hisses, this time meeting you halfway. The added thrusts coming from the man has his cock digging even deeper, hitting a spot that you weren’t sure was possible until now. “Isn’t this what you’re here for?”

You don’t respond to him, and it causes Yoongi to become even more smugged. You never took  Yoongi as the dominant type - yet again, you never thought about sex with Yoongi until the possibility presented itself to you.

Yoongi hooks both arms underneath your thighs and flips you and him. You’re on your back now and him hovering right above you. You gasp at the sudden change of position. However, having Min Yoongi hovering above you was well worth it. He enters you without a second thought, the feeling intensifying when he begins to thrust in you.

“Fuck,” Yoongi growls, his head hanging as his eyes watch the way the both of you connect to one another. His cock springs in and out of you needily, your cunt so wet and gushing with juices. “your pussy is so wet and ready to be bred.”

Yoongi feels the way you clench around him at his words - such filthy words that turn the both of you on. You didn’t know just how much you enjoyed the dirty talk and it causes you to think vaguely of how your sex life with your husband always appeared so rushed. He was tired as he worked himself hard and at the end of it all, sex was more about him than you.

“You want that, huh?” 

Yoongi wouldn’t say that he’s waited for this moment. He wasn’t aware a moment like this would ever present itself to him. However, he finds that he enjoys the closeness that you and him share. How open you and he are, even after not fully accustomed to the other prior to now. 

Yoongi finds that he enjoys littering your naked skin with kisses and soft bites that don’t linger. When his hands wander around your skin, goosebump litter his own at how soft and warm it is. 

“I do.” you quip when Yoongi pounds deeper into you, so deliciously that it causes your eyes to roll a bit. “Want you to cum in me.”

Yoongi groans with a shake of his head. Not because he doesn’t want to cum in you, he does. He has a deep desire to fuck his seed into you so deep until there’s nothing left, but that meant that it would all be over. His high (and yours) would die down and you would go home. 

There wouldn’t be a next time as you weren’t his wife. And even if he talked down to his brother, at the end of the day, his brother was who you belonged to.

Something gold touches your face and causes you to flutter your eyes open. Yoongi hovers so close above you that his chain, a diamond chair that was once tucked underneath his shirt, slides across your warm face.

“K-Kiss me.” you say - more like demand - to Yoongi. Your shaky hands place themselves onto his cheeks so he’s looking right at you.

Yoongi connects his lips onto yours, his hips snapping forward. He groans against your soft lips, your velvet walls drawing him deeper and deeper into you.

“You’re so beautiful.” Yoongi grunts against your lips. “You take my cock so well.”

You press your lips deeper against his, arms wrapping around his neck. Your body intensifies, quivering right beneath the man. Your back arches a bit and you hold onto Yoongi a bit tighter.

“You’re…fuuuck,” your words drag out, stomach churning. “you’re beautiful, too.”

Yoongi, against his body’s best judgment, pushes you back against his bed. He leans back to admire your naked body, breast bouncing erratically as he fucks you. He licks his lips, dark eyes boring right into you. His right hand places onto your stomach, cock grinding. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi tilts his head a bit. “Our baby would be beautiful, too, then.”

“You can’t say things like that.”

Your pussy clenches harder, however, despite your words. 

“Your pussy says differently, baby.” Yoongi chuckles. “You like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking a baby into this sweet pussy.”

The hand that presses against your stomach to keep you in place trails down to your clit. His thumb places firmly against your wet clit, swirling the sensitive bud that has your back arching against. When you’re about to shut your legs - because fuck was the pleasure overwhelming - Yoongi’s free hand slaps against your thigh to keep you from doing so.

“You’re going to be so beautiful round with my baby.” Yoongi’s thumb twirls your clit roughly. The way you’re taking him now he knows you’re going to cum soon. “You think the baby would look like me?”

Yoongi grunts once more, thrust becoming sloppy. He was going to cum himself at just the thought of witnessing you swollen with his seed. Just the thought of you holding a baby with the same eyes as him was enough for him to want to breed you right here and now. 

“It doesn’t matter who you’re married to, baby,” Yoongi says, marveling at the sight of your juices leaking onto his sheets as you were cumming. The filthy and demanding words mixed with the overstimulation he forces upon you was too much. “I’ll always be the one that got you pregnant.”

Your hand reaches out for Yoongi’s shirt for support. His words were too much and would be added to the list of fucked up things you were doing now - that you enjoy. 

“I want your baby, Yoongi.” you cry, squirming beneath him. “Want your cum in me.”

“Fuck, baby.” Yoongi shakes his head, his entire body shuddering as he cums not even a minute later. Milky ropes of warm cum coat your walls fully.

Hanging his head back, Yoongi pants. He doesn’t move and neither do you. There’s sweat lining his forehead and he’s trying to calm himself down before he does anything more.

Your chest rises and falls when you feel Yoongi lay beside you. You feel his cum ooze out of you - but still feel so full of him. You shut your legs, the selfish part of you not wanting to waste not a drop of it.

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi’s hand is soft, even if it was a bit callosed, against your cheek. He gently turns your head to look at him. 

“I’m sorry if I was a bit…much.” Yoongi’s cheeks reddened and he chuckled a bit.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” you murmur to him, moving a bit closer without much thought. “Thank you…?” you’re unsure what to say and thanking him sounds a bit foolish, however when Yoongi laughs, so do you. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N.”

You bite your lip and once more, without much thought, you kiss him. You inhale into the kiss, your hand holding onto his cheek before you disconnect your lips from his.

Yoongi licks his lips as if to savor your taste. He hums. “You can stay the night…if you want.” Yoongi adds the last part. “Or you can go home…but I’m not forcing you to.”

You allow yourself to smile at Yoongi. 

“I can show you my studio. You can see why the world doesn’t see me for months at a time.” Yoongi jokes. Did he sound desperate for you to stay with him? Was he that lonely and pathetic?

“Okay.” you say a bit too quickly. You hoped you didn’t sound desperate yourself.

“Okay.” Yoongi repeats, his thumb trailing the outline of your lips.

Yoongi’s fingers are going to bruise your skin with how tight he holds them. His hips are snapping once more, drilling into you at an alarming speed. From the outside looking in, the sight could be seen as alarming with how rough Yoongi is. Your skin is flushed with hand marks by the man, yet neither of you could be bothered to care right now.

Your back arches and your arms struggle to keep yourself in the position as yoongi pounds into you. You’re squealing with each powerful thrust his hips send your way. 

You are unsure how many times you allowed Yoongi to fuck you - you lost count since the following night. You didn’t need to go home because there wouldn’t be anyone waiting for you anyways. Yoongi had done what he promised and showed you his studio. It’s dimly lit with several computer screens. He showed you how he mixed and produced different sounds together and played snippets of music that he had yet to release.

How you and Yoongi became entangled after that - and for the first time - is beyond you. In a short amount of time, the chemistry was there. Obviously.

Now, the following morning, you and Yoongi were yet again doing the forbidden act that should’ve never happened in the first place. Now, you and he were further disrespecting your marriage, but you cannot bring yourself to care now.

“Your cock is so deep in me.” you squeal, your face burying into the soft bed sheets.

 Your fingers dig into them as Yoongi forces your legs apart further. Both of his hands allow you grace and slams against his bed. That meant that now Yoongi could go even deeper.

“I’ve fucked you all night, baby, and you keep coming for more.”

Your ass is amazing, Yoongi thinks, the way it bounces off of his abdomen. He cannot count himself how many times he held it in his hands as he fucked you, finding that it fits perfectly in his hands just like the rest of your body did.

“I can’t help it…feels so good.” 

In the short amount of time you stopped the bashful act and fully allowed Yoongi’s dirty words to get to you. You entertained him fully, finding that it made the entire situation better.

“You’re such a whore, Y/N, allowing me to fuck a baby in you over and over again.”

As many times as Yoongi’s fucked you, he hasn’t kept his lips off of you for long. He had eaten you out right in his studio, his fingers plunging so deep in you that you made a mess all over his chair - and he’d have it no other way.

“It’s going to be sad when you go back to your husband, right? You’re gonna fuck my brother but think of me the entire time.”

Your hair is being yanked this time and you are forced against Yoongi’s chest. His cock plunges deeper in you so heavenly that you’re seeing stars. While one hand is entangled into your hair, the other one roughly tugs at your breast.

“And when he doesn’t fuck you good enough, baby, just come back to me.” Yoongi’s voice is so deep and full of lust that it shivers down your spine and juices erupt down your thighs and leak into his sheets.

You don’t intend to stay another day. Yoongi had allowed you to borrow clothing and you had showered in his master bathroom before meeting him for breakfast. The aroma greeted you upon entering and Yoongi spares you a single glance.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” you admit, seating yourself on the island chair and watching as he plates your food. “Smells nice…” you trail off.

You and Yoongi eat mainly in silence when you’re unsure if it’s a comfortable one or not. Your mind races with questions that you’re unsure how to ask.

“There’s no doubt that you’ll have a positive pregnancy test.”

Yoongi breaks the silence first once he finishes his food, drinking a dark liquid that you’re sure isn’t juice like you had. 

You snicker a bit, body flushing. “Yeah. No doubt.”

Yoongi is quiet for another moment, his eyes roaming your facial expression.

“Do you regret it?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing away for a moment.

“It’s…I feel terrible.”

Yoongi inhales, his leg shaking a bit at your words.

“I…I feel terrible because I enjoyed it too much and…” you meet his eyes now. It was an eventful two days away from the reality that was your life. Yoongi was more than what his family made him out to be - even outside the sex. He was an amazing person to speak with. When you spoke, it’s as if he cared about what you had to say; no matter the topic. He gives you undivided attention that you never got from your husband. “...now I have to just forget it didn’t happen.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath. His heart jolted a bit at your confession.

“You know I’m never too far.” Yoongi murmurs. He feels foolish for stating it. It would be weird that you and he are suddenly so close that it would obviously draw attention.

“I know.” your voice is meek and small. 

“I want to give you something.”

Yoongi doesn’t meet your eye when he lifts himself from the island table beside you and takes your plates and his. He washes them to further leave you in agonizing suspense.

Once Yoongi is done, he dries his hands and goes through his pockets. He’s wearing baggy sweatpants with deep pockets. He pulls out a rectangular pad and opens it, ripping a piece of paper out of it.

“Here.” Yoongi holds the paper out for you to take. You notice instantly that it’s a…check.

Your eyes scan the check, slowly widening at just how much money is on it.

“What is this?” you say hastily, squinting your eyes at Yoongi.

“A check.” Yoongi responds matter-of-factly. “For…the baby.” he nods his head a bit.

You drop the check onto the table and swallow. “I’m…not even sure if you got me pregnant.” you say, but then again it was no doubt Yoongi had. The amount of times he milked your walls in 2 days, there was no doubt that a month from now you would surely receive positive news. “I can’t accept that, Yoongi.” you shake your head.

“Why not?”

You scoff. “Why not? Why would I?” you quip. “I…I…the agreement wasn’t this.” you continue as you’re pointing at the check. “I…we didn’t really think any of this through.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Yoongi snickers but agrees nonetheless. “We acted out of lust and attraction. However…I want to help you.”

You’re silent as Yoongi continues on.

“I…it’s going to be hard, Y/N. Watching you raise a kid that’s mine but…I understand. You’re married to my brother and that’s not going to change. You came to me for help and I intend on doing just that. Deposit the check into a savings account. Over time it’ll accumulate interest and more money for the baby…”

Yoongi’s tone is serious. Your eyes glance down at the check.

“Yoongi…” you trail off. 

Yoongi stands a bit straighter. 

“Think about the baby, Y/N.” Yoongi murmurs. “You trusted me enough to come to me. Trust me enough to know that I’ll always help you if you need it.” he states. “I’ll be the best uncle there can be.”

Yoongi’s tone doesn’t match his words, and you aren’t sure if your own feelings would match the reality that you’re about to put yourself through.

@whipwhoops @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @babycandy111 @investedreader

Part Two

[hsjazebel]

Meant to be

Summary: Y/N never expected a college party to change anything—until she met Harry. What starts as a quiet connection over books and movies slowly turns into something deeper, proving that some things are simply meant to be.

Wordcount: 32k+ (I have been carried away, sorry 😅)

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! ♡ Here’s a little story about love finding you when you least expect it. Hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

— — —

The party was louder than she expected.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she had let Charlotte convince her to come. Maybe it was the way her roommate had pleaded, eyes wide with excitement, promising it would be “just for an hour.” Or maybe it was the fact that she had spent too many Friday nights curled up in bed while the rest of campus buzzed with energy.

She had thought, just for once, that maybe she should say yes.

But now, standing in the middle of the crowded living room, she regretted it.

The music thumped against the walls, the bass so deep she could feel it in her ribs. Laughter and voices blurred together in an endless hum, broken only by the occasional shout of someone calling out to a friend. The air was thick—too many people, too much perfume, too much heat.

She tugged at the hem of her sweater, suddenly self-conscious. She wasn’t dressed for this, not like the other girls in shimmering tops and short skirts. She had gone for comfort—jeans, a fitted top, her favorite oversized cardigan—but now she felt out of place, like she hadn’t read the unspoken dress code.

Charlotte had disappeared almost immediately, swallowed up by the crowd, probably off to find that guy she’d been texting. Y/N had tried to follow for a bit, but the sea of people made it impossible to keep up.

Now she was alone, pressed against the wall, holding a drink she hadn’t even sipped.

She exhaled, glancing toward the front door. Maybe she could just leave. Charlotte wouldn’t mind—she was too caught up in her own night.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an open door leading to the balcony.

Without thinking, she headed for it, slipping outside and closing the door behind her.

Cool air washed over her, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat inside. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and leaned against the railing, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal. The city stretched out in front of her, distant lights flickering against the night sky. From here, the noise of the party was muffled, just a dull hum beneath the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle over her.

And then—

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

The voice was smooth, warm. British.

Her eyes snapped open.

Turning slightly, she found herself face to face with someone she recognized immediately.

Harry Styles.

Her breath hitched, just for a second.

She had seen him around before, of course. It was hard not to notice him. He wasn’t the typical loud, overly confident guy that thrived in these kinds of settings, but he had a presence that made people gravitate toward him anyway. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—calm, collected, always with an air of quiet amusement, like he was in on some inside joke no one else knew about.

Now, standing in front of her in the dim balcony light, he looked impossibly at ease.

His dark curls were pushed back messily, a few strands falling over his forehead. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, framing sharp green eyes that studied her with quiet interest. His loose button-up was unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate tattoos winding down his forearms.

He held a drink casually in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket, like he had all the time in the world.

She swallowed.

“I—uh—yeah,” she finally managed. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

His lips quirked, as if her answer didn’t surprise him at all. “Figured as much.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how exactly did you figure that?”

He took a slow sip from his drink before answering. “Well, for one, you’ve been out here for at least five minutes and haven’t checked your phone once.” His eyes flickered toward the door. “And two… you look like you’re trying to disappear.”

She huffed out a quiet laugh. “That obvious?”

Harry smirked. “A little.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the air between them felt charged—not uncomfortable, but something else entirely.

Then, he shifted slightly, turning more toward her.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

She let out a small breath, amused. As if she didn’t already know.

“I know,” she admitted, then immediately winced. “I mean—everyone knows who you are.”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and warm. “That’s fair.” He tilted his head slightly. “And you are…?”

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, softer this time, like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue. Then, with a small smile, he extended his hand. “Well, Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

She hesitated for just a second before slipping her hand into his.

His palm was warm, his grip gentle but firm.

“Nice to meet you too, Harry.”

His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary before he let go.

He leaned his elbow against the railing, glancing at her thoughtfully. “So, if parties aren’t your thing… what would you rather be doing right now?”

She bit her lip, thinking. “Watching a movie, probably.”

Harry’s brows lifted slightly. “Anything in particular?”

She hesitated, then decided to be honest. “A romcom.”

His lips curled into a slow smile. “You like romcoms?”

She nodded. “I grew up watching them. Notting Hill, 10 Things I Hate About You, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days… I know they’re cheesy, but I love them.”

He studied her for a second, then let out a soft chuckle. “Cheesy doesn’t mean bad. Those are classics.”

She tilted her head. “Wait… you actually like them too?”

Harry smirked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Course I do. I mean, have you seen When Harry Met Sally? It’s got my name in it. That’s a sign, don’t you think?”

She laughed—really laughed, for the first time that night.

Harry watched her, his expression softer now, like he was pleased to be the reason behind it.

The conversation flowed easier after that. They debated over the best romcom of all time, exchanged favorite scenes, and argued about which movie had the most unrealistic yet satisfying ending. Somewhere in between, Y/N forgot about the party altogether.

But eventually, her phone buzzed in her pocket—Charlotte, probably looking for her.

She sighed, realizing she had to go.

Harry noticed. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She hesitated, then, feeling unusually bold, added, “But… maybe next time, I’ll skip the party and just watch a romcom instead.”

His smile was slow, almost knowing. “Maybe next time, you won’t have to watch it alone.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

And as she stepped back inside, disappearing into the noise and the crowd, she couldn’t help but hope—just a little—that this was only the beginning.

———

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sound of Charlotte’s voice.

“Well, well, well,” her roommate drawled, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face into the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” Charlotte said, walking over and flopping down onto the bed beside her. “And you have some explaining to do.”

Y/N peeked at her through one eye. “Explaining?”

Charlotte grinned, far too awake for this early in the morning. “Don’t play innocent with me. You disappeared at the party. And when I finally found you again, you looked… different.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “So spill.”

Y/N sighed, rolling onto her back. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Lies! I saw you talking to Harry Styles.” She poked Y/N’s side. “You—quiet, book-loving, avoider of all social gatherings—somehow ended up alone on a balcony with the most intriguing guy on campus.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “It wasn’t like that,” she muttered.

Charlotte smirked. “Then what was it like?”

Y/N hesitated. The truth was, she wasn’t exactly sure.

“It was… nice,” she admitted after a moment. “We just talked.”

Charlotte studied her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Talked? That’s it?”

Y/N nodded.

Charlotte huffed, flopping back against the bed. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N smiled, sitting up and stretching. “Did you at least have fun?”

Charlotte let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, absolutely. And I might have secured myself a coffee date with Mason.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Mason?”

“You know, Harry’s friend? Tall, kind of scruffy, ridiculously charming?” Charlotte waggled her fingers. “I think we have a connection.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I’m happy for you.”

Charlotte sat up again, her expression turning devious. “And speaking of coffee dates…”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered. “No.”

Charlotte pouted. “Come on! I think he likes you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We talked for, like, twenty minutes.”

Charlotte shrugged. “That’s plenty of time to make an impression. And if he really likes you, you’ll see him again.”

Y/N didn’t answer. Because the thought had already crossed her mind.

Would she see him again?

———

She did.

Three days later.

At the campus café.

Y/N had been curled up in a corner booth, a warm cup of tea beside her as she flipped through a book for class. The café was quiet, filled mostly with students studying or catching up on assignments. The hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of cups created the kind of atmosphere she loved—calm, steady, familiar.

And then, a shadow fell over her table.

“Y/N.”

She looked up.

And there he was.

Harry Styles, standing beside her table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a curious tilt to his head. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, but she still recognized the quiet amusement in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said, feeling her heart pick up speed.

His lips twitched. “Mind if I sit?”

She hesitated for only a second before shaking her head. “Go ahead.”

Harry slid into the seat across from her, setting his coffee down. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alright, I might have hoped I would.”

Her stomach did an embarrassing little flip.

“What are you reading?” he asked, nodding toward the book in her hands.

She glanced down, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, Wuthering Heights.”

His brows lifted, impressed. “Intense choice.”

She shrugged. “It’s for class, but I like it.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, stretching out comfortably. “So, tell me—are you one of those people who think Heathcliff is romantic, or do you see him for the walking red flag that he is?”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “You’ve read it?”

He smirked. “I have.”

She bit her lip, eyeing him. “And?”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Look, I get the passion, the whole ‘soulmate across time and space’ thing, but let’s be honest—if Heathcliff were around today, he’d be sending late-night ‘u up?’ texts and brooding over his ex’s Instagram posts.”

Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “That is… disturbingly accurate.”

Harry grinned. “And you? Are you a Heathcliff apologist?”

She shook her head. “I think he and Cathy deserved each other—because no one else should have to deal with that level of drama.”

Harry chuckled. “Harsh, but fair.”

There was something about the way he looked at her—curious, amused, like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. It made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Then—

“So,” Harry said, breaking the moment, “you never told me your verdict.”

Y/N frowned. “My verdict?”

“The best romcom of all time.”

She smiled, relieved by the lighter topic. “That’s impossible to answer.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright. Then let’s make it simpler. What’s your go-to comfort movie?”

She thought for a second. “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

His eyes lit up. “Classic.”

She nodded. “It’s just fun, you know? The whole fake dating thing, the ridiculousness of it all. And Kate Hudson? Iconic.”

Harry smirked. “And the ‘You let it die!’ scene? A cinematic masterpiece.”

Y/N laughed. “Exactly.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then said, “I like that.”

Y/N suddenly felt warm under his gaze. She looked down, tracing the rim of her cup. “What about you?”

Harry pretended to think. “Mmm… Notting Hill.”

She grinned. “Oh, come on. You just like it because of the ‘I’m just a girl’ scene.”

He laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe I like the idea that two people from completely different worlds can still find their way to each other.”

Something about the way he said it made her stomach flutter.

The conversation drifted after that—talk of books, movies, little things that made them both feel at home. The more they spoke, the more Y/N felt that strange, unexpected ease settle between them.

And when she finally glanced at the time, she realized an hour had passed without her even noticing.

“I should probably get to class,” she murmured, closing her book.

Harry nodded, but didn’t look particularly eager to leave.

As she stood, sliding her bag over her shoulder, he tapped his fingers against the table. “So…”

She looked at him expectantly.

He smirked. “Movie night?”

Her heart skipped. “Are you asking me out, Harry Styles?”

His expression was all mischief. “Maybe.”

She bit her lip, pretending to consider. Then, feeling unusually bold, she said, “Okay.”

Harry’s smirk turned into something softer.

“Good,” he said.

And as she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

———

The library was quieter than usual.

Y/N liked it that way. She liked the solitude, the way the world seemed to shrink down to just her and the words on the page. It was calming—predictable.

What she didn’t expect, however, was a voice breaking through the silence.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to hide away in a library for fun.”

She looked up, already knowing who she would see.

Harry stood in front of her table, a familiar smirk on his lips, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had a notebook tucked under his arm and a coffee in hand, looking completely at ease despite the way his presence sent her heart racing.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “And yet, here you are.”

Harry hummed, sliding into the chair across from her. “Touché.”

She watched as he set his coffee down and flipped open his notebook, as if he belonged there—like this was routine.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually here to study, or are you just bothering me for fun?”

Harry grinned. “Can it be both?”

She huffed, biting back a smile as she returned her gaze to her book. But she could still feel his eyes on her.

A beat passed before he spoke again. “Wuthering Heights, huh? Still brooding over Heathcliff?”

Y/N sighed, looking up. “You do realize I read more than one book, right?”

Harry’s smirk widened. “Do you, now?”

She rolled her eyes and turned the book so he could see the title.

His gaze flickered over the cover before he raised an eyebrow. “White Nights?”

Y/N tilted her head. “Surprised?”

Harry leaned back in his chair, studying her. “A little. Didn’t take you for a Dostoevsky kind of girl.”

“And what kind of girl did you take me for?” she challenged.

He smirked. “Jane Austen, maybe. Brontë sisters, definitely. But Russian literature? That’s a surprise.”

She shrugged. “I like stories about lonely people.”

Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone too fast for her to catch.

“Lonely people,” he repeated. “And here I thought you just liked tragic love stories.”

Y/N hesitated, then said softly, “Aren’t they the same thing?”

Harry studied her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, in a voice quieter than before, he said, “I guess they are.”

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like something had shifted—like she had let him see a part of her she didn’t show to just anyone.

Then, after a moment, Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile. “So, is White Nights a re-read, or am I catching you in the middle of a first-time experience?”

She exhaled, grateful for the change in tone. “Re-read.”

His grin widened. “Interesting. That means you must really like it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you about to judge my taste in books?”

Harry smirked. “Not at all. I was actually going to say… maybe I should let you convince me to read it.”

Y/N studied him. “You’ve never read it?”

“Not yet,” he admitted.

A small smile played on her lips. “Maybe you should.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe I will.”

———

That night, her phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

Unknown [9:07 PM]: So, lonely people, huh? Convince me why I should read White Nights.

Y/N frowned, staring at the screen. Who the hell—?

Y/N [9:08 PM]: Who is this?

A pause. Then—

Unknown [9:08 PM]: Wow. That hurts.

Her heart skipped.

She squinted at the message, then at the number, but it wasn’t saved in her contacts.

Y/N [9:09 PM]: Seriously. Who is this??

A few seconds passed before a reply popped up.

Unknown [9:09 PM]: It’s Harry.

She blinked.

Then—

Y/N [9:10 PM]: …How did you get my number?

Harry [9:11 PM]: Your lovely roommate gave it to me.

Y/N groaned out loud. “Charlotte!”

Across the room, Charlotte barely glanced up from her laptop. “Hmm?”

Y/N waved her phone in the air. “Did you seriously give Harry my number?”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh. So he finally texted you?”

“Charlotte.”

“What?” she said innocently. “He asked, and I figured it would take you forever to do it yourself.”

Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, turning her attention back to the screen.

Y/N [9:12 PM]: I hate you.

Harry [9:12 PM]: No, you don’t.

She rolled her eyes.

Y/N [9:13 PM]: Maybe you should read it and see for yourself.

Harry [9:14 PM]: Bold of you to assume I have time for Russian literature.

Y/N [9:15 PM]: Bold of you to assume I’d let you borrow my copy.

Harry [9:16 PM]: So possessive. I like it.

Y/N [9:17 PM]: You’re impossible.

Harry [9:17 PM]: And yet, here you are, still texting me.

She bit her lip, trying not to smile.

Harry [9:18 PM]: You still good for our not-date movie night?

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Y/N [9:19 PM]: You mean the highly academic film screening of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?

Harry [9:20 PM]: Exactly. For research purposes.

She hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen.

Y/N [9:21 PM]: Yeah. I’m still in.

His reply came almost instantly.

Harry [9:21 PM]: Good.

She stared at the word for a long time, ignoring the way her face felt impossibly warm.

———

“You’ve checked your phone three times in the last minute.”

Y/N shot Charlotte a glare from across the room. “I have not.”

Charlotte smirked, finishing the last touches of her makeup. “You so have.”

Y/N huffed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the bed like that would somehow make her friend drop the topic. “I’m just checking the time.”

“Mm-hmm.” Charlotte turned, arms crossed. “Because, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Harry is coming over.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her face felt warm. “It’s just a movie night.”

Charlotte grinned. “And yet, you’ve changed your sweater twice.”

Y/N groaned, flopping back onto her pillows. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Charlotte grabbed her bag, checking her reflection in the mirror. “I think it’s cute that you’re all flustered over him.”

“I’m not flustered.”

Charlotte raised a brow. “You are so flustered.”

Y/N groaned again, covering her face with a pillow.

A knock at the door made her sit up way too fast.

Charlotte smirked knowingly. “That’s my cue.”

Y/N watched as Charlotte opened the door, revealing Harry—standing there in his usual effortless way, glasses on, a bag of snacks in one hand.

“Oh, hey, Harry,” Charlotte greeted with a grin, throwing Y/N one last look. “I was just leaving.”

Harry glanced between them, looking mildly amused. “Leaving?”

“Yep.” Charlotte winked at Y/N. “Have fun.”

And before Y/N could even form a reply, she was gone.

Harry stepped inside, brow raised. “Did I just interrupt something?”

Y/N exhaled, shaking her head. “No. She’s just being Charlotte.”

Harry chuckled, setting the snacks down. “That explains a lot.”

Settling onto the couch, Y/N pressed play on 27 Dresses, tucking her legs under her.

Harry sat beside her, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. The space between them was small—too small—and she tried not to focus on the way his knee almost brushed hers.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked.

She scoffed. “Please. At least twenty times.”

Harry smiled. “Figures.”

For the first half hour, they made occasional comments about the movie—Harry teasing her about knowing all the lines, Y/N defending why it was a romcom classic.

But eventually, the room grew quieter. The soft glow of the screen cast shadows across Harry’s face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his glasses slid down his nose.

And Y/N—despite her best efforts to stay focused on the film—felt her eyelids growing heavy.

She shifted slightly, trying to stay awake, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of the dialogue, and the presence of Harry right beside her made it impossible.

At some point, she leaned just a little too far to the side—

And before she could stop herself, her head landed gently on his shoulder.

For a second, she almost panicked.

But Harry didn’t move. Didn’t pull away.

If anything, he relaxed.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting so that she fit more comfortably against him.

And just like that, sleep took over.

———

The next morning, the first thing Y/N registered was warmth.

A slow, steady warmth surrounding her, lulling her in a sleepy haze.

Then, she felt movement.

Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her a moment to realize:

She was curled into Harry’s side, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders.

The snack bag was on the floor. The TV screen had long since gone black. The early morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room.

And Harry—

Was still asleep.

His head rested against the back of the couch, lips slightly parted, curls falling across his forehead. His glasses were slightly askew, one arm still tucked around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N barely breathed.

She should move. Should sit up, stretch, do anything to break the moment before he woke up.

But before she could, she felt him shift.

A slow inhale. A stretch.

And then, with a small frown, Harry’s eyes blinked open.

For a second, he looked confused. Disoriented.

Then, his gaze landed on her.

They both froze.

Silence.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

And then—

Harry’s lips twitched, still laced with sleep. “Morning.”

Y/N swallowed. “Morning.”

Another pause.

Then, realization dawned in Harry’s sleepy eyes. He glanced down at their position—her body still tucked into his side, his arm still loosely wrapped around her.

And yet—he didn’t move away.

Instead, his mouth curved into something softer.

“Didn’t mean to steal your couch,” he murmured.

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t mean to steal your shoulder.”

Harry smiled.

And for a moment, they just… sat there.

Close. Warm. Unmoving.

Y/N was still sitting on the couch, trying to process the fact that she’d just spent the night curled up against Harry Styles, when she heard him stretch beside her.

She glanced over. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, one hand running through his curls, the other adjusting his glasses.

And he looked… way too good for someone who had just woken up.

Before she could stop herself, she spoke.

“Do you—” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “Do you want some coffee?”

Harry turned to her, blinking.

Then, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Are you offering me coffee, Y/N?”

She rolled her eyes, standing up. “I regret it already.”

Harry chuckled, pushing himself up from the couch. “Too late.”

———

They ended up in the small dorm kitchen, Y/N fumbling with the coffee machine while Harry leaned against the counter, watching her with amusement.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to function without caffeine,” he said.

She scoffed. “Who says I function at all?”

Harry smirked. “Fair point.”

Once the coffee was ready, she handed him a mug, grabbing one for herself before hopping up onto the counter.

Harry took a slow sip, humming in approval. “Not bad.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Not bad?”

“Yeah.” He nudged her knee playfully. “Could be better.”

She gasped in mock offense. “You are such a snob.”

Harry grinned. “I have high standards.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

They fell into comfortable conversation, talking about everything from classes to 27 Dresses to how Harry apparently had a very strong opinion about the correct way to make tea.

And Y/N—despite the fact that she had woken up to a situation that should have been extremely awkward—found herself relaxing.

That was, of course, until Charlotte walked in.

She stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight before her—Harry standing in the kitchen, hair still tousled from sleep, drinking coffee from their mugs.

Y/N sitting on the counter, wearing the same clothes from last night.

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

Then, a slow smirk spread across her face.

“Oh,” she said, drawing out the word. “Good morning.”

Y/N groaned. “Charlotte—”

Charlotte ignored her, turning to Harry with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Wow, Harry. You’re still here?”

Harry, to Y/N’s horror, grinned.

“Apparently, I make decent company, and your couch is not too bad” he said, sipping his coffee.

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Did Y/N let you sleep on the couch? That is so rude.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Charlotte.”

Charlotte pressed a hand to her heart. “I mean, I was gone all night, you totally could’ve used my bed—”

Y/N almost choked on her coffee. “Oh my God, stop.”

Charlotte just smirked, eyes dancing between them. “I’m just saying…”

Y/N glared. “You’re the worst.”

Harry chuckled, setting down his mug. “I should probably get going before Mason starts wondering where I am.”

He turned to Y/N then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he murmured.

She swallowed. “Yeah. Anytime.”

Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows.

Y/N shot her a warning look.

Harry—completely amused—grabbed his bag and made his way to the door.

“See you later, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone.

Y/N barely had time to let out a breath before Charlotte pounced.

“So.”

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Don’t.”

Charlotte ignored her, flopping onto the couch with a wicked grin. “You slept together.”

“Oh my God—”

“Not like that,” Charlotte amended. “But still. You slept together.”

Y/N groaned. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Oh, honey. It so was.”

———

Y/N had spent the entire morning convincing herself that nothing had changed.

That waking up next to Harry hadn’t felt different.

That the way he had smiled at her over coffee hadn’t made her stomach flip.

That she wasn’t replaying every second of their time together like some lovesick idiot.

But she was failing—miserably.

And Charlotte wasn’t helping.

“So,” her roommate drawled, flipping through a magazine on her bed, “are we just gonna pretend that last night never happened?”

Y/N, sitting at her desk, sighed. “Nothing happened.”

Charlotte scoffed. “You cuddled on the couch, made him coffee in the morning, and practically gazed at each other the whole time. That’s something.”

Y/N turned to glare at her. “I wasn’t gazing.”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh, honey. You were gazing.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her head onto her desk.

Charlotte laughed, tossing the magazine aside. “Look, all I’m saying is—he’s different, isn’t he?”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy. You usually keep your distance, but with Harry… I don’t know. You let him in.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest—but nothing came out.

Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Charlotte wasn’t wrong.

Harry was different.

And that was what scared her the most.

———

That afternoon, she tried to focus on studying.

Tried being the keyword.

She was in the library, sitting at her usual spot by the window, but the words on the page blurred together.

Her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, already knowing who it was.

Harry [3:27 PM]: You’re not skipping the library today, are you?

Y/N [3:28 PM]: I’m literally here right now.

Harry [3:29 PM]: Good. Would’ve had to question your commitment to academia otherwise.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips.

A minute later, she heard a chair scrape against the floor.

She looked up.

Harry slid into the seat across from her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

Y/N tried to ignore the way her heartbeat definitely sped up. “Hi.”

He set down his bag and pulled out a book. “What are we studying today?”

Y/N sighed. “I’m trying to get through this reading, but it’s not working.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you want me to quiz you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You just got here.”

He smirked. “And?”

She shook her head, amused. “Fine.”

And so, they studied. Or at least, they tried.

Every time Harry read a passage aloud, he did it with exaggerated dramatics, making Y/N laugh.

Whenever she got an answer right, he’d tap his fingers against the table like a drumroll.

At some point, he reached for her book, fingers grazing hers—and neither of them pulled away.

The touch was brief, but her skin tingled where it had been.

Harry didn’t say anything, but his gaze flickered to hers, something unspoken lingering between them.

For the first time, Y/N felt like she was on the edge of something.

And she didn’t know whether to step forward—or run.

———

An hour later, Y/N packed up her things.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Harry nodded, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Alright.”

She hesitated before speaking. “Thanks for—y’know. Keeping me sane.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “Anytime.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her

“Oh, Y/N?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

Harry reached into his bag, pulling out a book.

She frowned as he held it out to her.

“The Symposium?” she read aloud, eyebrows raised.

Harry smirked. “Figured you might like it.”

She stared at him. “Harry, this is your copy.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So, I know you annotate all your books.” She flipped through the pages, confirming her suspicions—his familiar, neat handwriting filled the margins. “I can’t take this.”

“You can,” he said simply. “And you will.”

She glanced up at him, confused. “But… why?”

Harry held her gaze for a moment, then leaned in slightly.

“Because I think you’ll understand it,” he murmured.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Because there was weight behind his words—something deeper than just a casual book recommendation.

She swallowed, gripping the book a little tighter.

“…Thank you,” she said softly.

Harry smiled. “See you later, Y/N.”

And as she walked away, The Symposium pressed against her chest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

That, maybe, she had just crossed a line she could never go back from.

———

The night wrapped around them like a quiet secret. The streets were nearly empty, the world softened by the golden glow of streetlamps.

Y/N and Harry walked side by side, their steps unhurried, as if neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.

She wasn’t sure how they ended up here—how a simple goodnight after studying turned into do you want to take a walk? But she didn’t regret saying yes.

It had been a week since that night at her apartment, since they’d woken up together on the couch, and things between them had shifted. Not in an obvious way—there were no declarations, no grand confessions—but something had changed.

Harry had always looked at her like he was intrigued. But now?

Now, he looked at her like he knew. Like he was just waiting for her to admit it, too.

“You’re quiet,” Harry murmured beside her.

She glanced at him. “So are you.”

He smiled, a little crooked. “Guess I don’t always have something to say.”

“Impossible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Harsh.”

They walked a little further before she spoke again, a quiet admission in the stillness of the night.

“I read your notes.”

Harry turned his head slightly. “My notes?”

“In The Symposium.”

Realization flickered in his expression. “Right.”

She hesitated. “There was one part that stuck with me.”

His gaze softened. “Which one?”

Y/N swallowed.

“The part where you wrote that love is about recognizing something familiar in someone else.”

Harry didn’t speak right away.

Then, quietly, he said, “That’s my favorite part.”

Y/N stopped walking.

So did he.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with something.

She could feel her pulse thrumming in her wrists, in her throat, in the space between them that was growing smaller by the second.

Harry took a step closer. Slowly. Like he was giving her time to stop him.

She didn’t.

His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a second, before meeting her eyes again.

His voice was softer when he spoke next. “You realize I like you, don’t you?”

Y/N felt something tighten in her chest.

Because, of course, she did.

But hearing it—feeling it—was different.

She exhaled, barely a whisper. “I think I do now.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

He didn’t move right away.

He just looked at her, taking her in, like he was memorizing the moment.

Then, so softly it was almost imperceptible, his fingers brushed against hers.

Y/N inhaled sharply.

And that was all it took.

Before she could second-guess it, before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them.

She barely had time to process the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath, before his hand came up, fingers grazing her jaw as he leaned in—slow, careful, waiting.

And then—

Then, he kissed her.

It was soft at first. Just a whisper of a touch, a silent question against her lips.

But the moment she kissed him back, the moment her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, it changed.

It deepened.

Harry let out a quiet sound—like he had been waiting for this longer than he cared to admit—and then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, closer, like the space between them was unbearable.

Her heart was racing.

She could feel the warmth of his palms, the faint scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way he kissed her like he was learning her—like he wanted to know exactly how she fit against him.

And she let him.

By the time they pulled apart, her head was spinning, her breath uneven.

Harry’s forehead rested against hers, and he let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” she asked, still breathless.

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. Just… glad I finally did that.”

She bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to smile.

“Me too.”

Harry’s thumb brushed against her waist absentmindedly.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

Y/N nodded.

But neither of them moved.

Not right away.

And when they finally started walking again, Harry’s fingers found hers, intertwining them effortlessly—like they had been waiting to do that, too.

———

It had only been a couple of weeks since that night��their first kiss under the dim glow of the streetlights—but things between them had changed so much.

Not in an overwhelming way. Not in a way that made Y/N feel rushed or pressured.

But in a way that made her soften.

In a way that made it impossible to ignore how utterly smitten Harry was.

It was in the way he always found a reason to touch her, even in the smallest ways—fingertips brushing against hers when they walked, absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear when she was focused on something, resting his chin on her shoulder just because he could.

It was in the way he remembered things, like how she liked her coffee and how she hated the sound of loud chewing. In the way he always waited for her outside class even when they had different schedules. In the way he looked at her, like he was always choosing to.

Like he couldn’t believe she was real.

Today was no different.

Y/N sat curled up on the library couch, actually trying to get some work done, while Harry sat beside her, flipping through a book he had absolutely no interest in.

At least, that’s what she assumed—because instead of reading, he was staring at her.

She sighed, setting her pen down. “Harry.”

“Hm?” He looked unbothered, too comfortable as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

She shot him a pointed look.

He smirked, unfazed. “Looking at my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flipped.

Even after two weeks, the word still did something to her.

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were warm, and Harry knew it.

With a quiet chuckle, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, absentmindedly running his thumb across the back of her palm.

“Should I be studying?” he murmured, lips twitching.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Harry pretended to consider it. Then, with zero hesitation, he squeezed her hand and dragged it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“Too bad,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

This boy.

She was so doomed.

———

Y/N had tried to keep things subtle.

Not because she wanted to hide it, but because Charlotte was the biggest menace when it came to teasing her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet.

Too bad Charlotte noticed everything.

Like the way Y/N smiled at her phone when she thought no one was looking. The way she suspiciously left the dorm at night with an “I’ll be back later.” The way she got flustered when Harry’s name came up in conversation.

She had her suspicions, but she didn’t have proof.

Until now.

Because today, as Charlotte was walking toward the dorm, she saw them.

Saw Harry pressing a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. Saw the way she leaned into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And that was all she needed.

“I KNEW IT!”

Y/N jumped, turning to find Charlotte standing a few feet away with the biggest, most victorious grin on her face.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered.

Harry—who clearly wasn’t fazed at all—simply raised an eyebrow. “Did you, though?”

Charlotte turned to him, still grinning. “YES. I just didn’t have evidence.” She turned back to Y/N, wiggling her eyebrows. “But now I do.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Charlotte sing-songed.

Harry chuckled, amused, before leaning down and whispering into Y/N’s ear, “I’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.”

She sighed dramatically. “Coward.”

He smirked, kissed the side of her head one last time, and walked away, leaving her to deal with Charlotte’s relentless interrogation.

Y/N was so in trouble.

———

After an hour of being mercilessly teased, Y/N flopped onto her bed, groaning in frustration.

Charlotte smirked from across the room. “Oh, come on, you love me.”

“Debatable,” Y/N muttered, reaching for her phone.

She scrolled through her messages before typing.

Y/N [10:08 PM]: I officially hate you.

Harry [10:09 PM]: That’s unfortunate.

Y/N [10:09 PM]: Charlotte won’t stop teasing me. This is your fault.

Harry [10:10 PM]: Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you, won’t I?

Y/N froze, rereading the message at least three times.

Before she could even think of a response, there was a quiet knock on the door.

Charlotte and Y/N shared a look.

Y/N opened it—and there he was.

Harry stood there, a lazy smirk on his lips, holding a small pastry in a white paper bag.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Y/N blinked.

Charlotte—who was watching the whole thing unfold—snorted. “Oh, my God. You are so whipped.”

Harry didn’t even deny it.

He just shrugged, handed Y/N the bag, and kissed her temple like it was the most normal thing in the world.

When she looked inside, she found her favorite pastry, the one from the café across campus.

She looked back up at him, eyes soft. “You went all the way to—“

Harry simply shrugged. “Felt like it”

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying not to melt right then and there.

Charlotte, however, had no such restraint. “You two are disgusting”, she muttered, rolling her eyes before dramatically throwing a pillow over her head.

Harry chuckled, then leaned down and whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Worth it.”

And just like that, Y/N knew—

She was so, so screwed.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Have one on me…(C.Kent)

Summary: “Don’t scream or shout, I’m working my way down…”, Make it to the morning x Intimacy Cues pt 2.

Contains: fluff, smut, nervousness, Clark is hot, he’s also a munch, like seriously, tongue fxcking, because I personally headcanon him to have a long tongue think misha collins (who’s next btw) kissing, they’re also kinda dorks, pussydrunk!clark, multiple 0rgasms, he gets carried away bad, coming untouched, cursing/swearing, for the love of god don’t let him get his mouth on the box for a while after this😭, you’re secretly his girlfriend you just don’t know it yet, hell of a Valentine’s Day, am I right? @moonstruks I got the ambulance this time if u need it😉🤝🏽

A/N: Be normal. Don’t make me regret updating.

. .* ੈ✩‧₊•

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty while I give you everything you need..”

And he wasn’t kidding.

From the next seconds following Clark stripping your bottoms off and folding your trembling legs towards your chest, become a blur as your world gets overwhelmed with a new palette of sensations. Your mouth drops open in a moan when you feel his nose skim along the back of your thighs before dipping inside making you jerk, and he coos at you, warm puffs of air breezing over your center.

God, you were wet. Wet and so pretty.

It was like a gloss the way your slick covered your lips; steadily leaking from your tight hole to the point where it was borderline messy. Clark licks his lips again with a deep breath, hot gaze locked on your cunt because he just can’t make himself look away and he’s so hard he’s throbbing. Still, he has to keep one thing in mind more than anything: that you are completely new to this. Which also meant you were trusting him and you can. He’ll go slow. He’ll simply make you cum and he won’t get carried away as you get used to how you’ll be feeling during the whole thing.

The heady scent of your arousal makes his eyes lid a bit as he blows on your clit, groaning lowly when he sees it twitch, more slick leaking from your cunt. He can hear the breakneck speed of your heart when your breathless voice shyly calls out for him, you don’t look down though. You’re still too nervous but that’s okay. He’ll get you there.

“..Clark? What- um…” you trail off and you sound so sweet and he’s just so hard and all that mixed with how he’s still in disbelief that he’s even got you like this, he can’t help himself; jaw dropping open as he laps a slow, fat stripe up your pussy. Letting his tongue sit snug against the underside of your throbbing clit before closing his mouth around it and sucking- rolling it around with his tongue like a piece of candy.

To you, it happens so fast that it’s like a shot of pure adrenaline. Your chest feels like it’s caving in with each gasping moan as your body is abruptly flung into the depths of molten ecstasy. At first you weren’t sure how you felt about his face being that close to your…but the sheer hunger in his expression made you ache- anxiety slowly fading in wake of your arousal. However now, it’s also agonizing and you don’t think you’ll ever be this miserable again when that deliciously wet suction is off your clit, only to be replaced with heavy strokes of tongue that have you reeling. Tears of pleasure bud in the corners of your eyes and the heat in your cheeks just won’t leave at the sounds coming from Clark and your own mouth. You’ve never sounded so…desperate. Needy, high pitched moans tear out of your throat- sharp stabs of pleasure giving you goosebumps and you feel the urge to reach out- touch Clark so he can ground you.

The taste of you has him drunk, big hands tightening their grip as he nuzzles his face deeper into your pussy, suckling your clit back into his hot mouth with a pleased delirious hum, the vibrations of his moans travel through you and you scream. Back arching so hard, you’re almost lifting off the bed; mouth opening and closing as you try to shut yourself up but simultaneously catch your breath. It’s a stupid idea, though. Clark is just too good with his mouth and you’ve never actually had anyone make you cum, never let anyone so close but even if you had, you doubt they’d be like Clark. He’s got you floating, unable to even think of anything not involving him.

Your entire body is trembling but he doesn’t think you even notice based on the sounds coming from your lips. You’re somewhere else entirely and If he thought you were wet before, it’s nothing compared to how soaked you were now. Each swipe of his tongue is immediately replaced with fresh waves of your slick as he licked away at you. Clark said he wasn’t going to get carried away but you were so soft. So fucking soft, and wet- so ready underneath him that it was hard especially with the way you were coating his senses. His head is spinning from the sweet, heady smell and taste of you, his ears ringing from your beautiful cries. Fuck, he could eat you out forever. Heart pounding he way you were under his mouth was beyond addicting; head dipping, he sucks at your hole and it happens too all at once for you to even tell him that you’re coming or possibly dying but coming hard.

Tears spill over as a long, almost painful sounding series of punched out moans tumble out of your mouth. The warm knot in the bottom of your stomach from before seems to explode, soaking your every nerve in searing bliss as Clark treats your poor clit like a pacifier. Using his tongue, he rolls it gently between his teeth and you pray there’s a burial ground nearby after he’s done killing you. The sharp twing of pain added to the melting pleasure has you wailing through the best thing you truly never knew you needed. It’s burning, tingling, somewhat painful honestly but oh so good. You gasp, trying to come down but Clark doesn’t stop- he can’t stop.

Lapping his more than talented tongue heavily through your slit, you absentmindedly look down. So tired from your orgasm that embarrassment doesn’t even stop by but what does make your heart stop is how Clark looks.

Messy black hair is all you see before reaching down to sweep it back, breath hitching when you’re suddenly staring into his pretty blown eyes, lidded heavily in arousal. He doesn’t stop, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he slowly licks up from your hole to your clit and you go positively lightheaded. You were always painfully aware- to an uncomfortable degree- of how attractive Clark is but seeing that same face smeared in your wetness, those same maddening fangs peeking out with the pink of his tongue as he laves open mouthed licks up your cunt was too much.

“C-came already-!” You’re cut off by your own shaky whine when you feel him continue to suckle the sensitive around your entrance.

He isn’t getting carried away- fat tongue slipping inside you to taste that delicious cream from the source, sucking sloppily as he undulates his tongue and you go boneless; falling flat against your bed while Clark eats you alive. His perfect nose nuzzles against your pulsing clit as a result, and your heart skips as white hot pleasure ricochets through you. The appendage squeezes in further, and you can feel the mess that’s beginning to accumulate but you don’t care, grinding down on his face. Reaching down, you card your trembling fingers through his hair and you’re so nice about it vs. the sick way he’s eating you up that he rewards you by pulling his tongue out some just to slide it back in, wiggling with persistence against your tight inner walls, fucking you with his tongue. Every now and then- in a pussydrunk daze- he pulls out to swallow; lower face drenched in you, and then plunges right back in, cock throbbing painfully but he’s in heaven.

Your skin is damn near ready to vibrate off your skeleton, bleated moans rise to keens as Clark flexes his tongue before pulling out to flick at your pearl. Biting your lip, you start to cry in earnest. Completely overwhelmed but so good at the same time that you refuse to tell him to stop.

It's insane. How his tongue is so big it covers your entire sex at the best of each lick, tasting you over and over. He keeps lapping at you, his tongue parting the fat lips of your swollen cunny with maddening repitition, saliva and slick sliding down over your asshole. It's lewd and noisy and oh god, oh god- you’re gonna come again.

In his world, all that exists is you. You with your pretty, overstimulated pussy that no one’s ever even seen- smelling so edible and coming so sweet in his mouth as you cry for him, melting like cotton candy. He’s worked your cunt over so well that she’s puffy. Spasming at every puff of air and another nasty wet kiss is all it takes for what’s left of you to come crumbling apart.

This time, Clark’s tongue fucks you through it. Lapping up every spurt of your juices, he holds you down while you black out. Letting the consuming waves of euphoria swallow you as Clark makes out with your pussy, eyes fluttered in bliss as he shoots ropes into his pants while he licks you clean- his own orgasm triggered by yours hitting then squeezing his tongue.

A weak groan leaves your chest and Clarks mouth reluctantly pops off your cunt and you shiver at the cool air.

His broad chest heaves as he stares at the tantalizing sight that is your cunt. Maybe he did get carried away. The slight gape of your tongue fucked hole makes him swear, brows furrowing with restraint and he whines low in his throat. As much as he would love to keep going, this is about you and you couldn’t handle anymore right now. Almost guiltily, he eyes your limp form on the bed, warm hands massaging your legs idly while he watches the quick rise and fall of your chest. Adjusting himself, he licks his lips and before he can stop it- a dazed smile raises the corner of his mouth. Your taste still sweet on his lips. Clearing his throat, Clark’s mellow voice breaks the silence, cutting through the fuzz in your ears.

“Hey..”, his hushed whisper makes you smile, albeit tiredly and you whisper back.

“..hi.”

Clark sighs in relief as he stands up, draping himself over you as he lays on top, kissing your lips softly. The shy look on your face only intensifies when you feel his wet face kiss at yours, remembering why it’s wet but in a strange way, it’s nice. You also feel lighter somehow but you’d investigate that later. The second time he kisses you, on the mouth this time, you kiss him back. Lips sliding against each other tenderly before he breaks away.

“So? How was it, baby? We still doin’ okay?” You turn your head as another hot flush overtakes your face at the petname and his audacity. How was it? Your normally smart ass didn’t even have the words to string together how good it was. Instead, you let the loopy smile you’ve been fighting win as you face him, nodding happily with sleepy eyes. Clark chuckles, nodding amusingly with you, feeling his chest swell and he’s not sure if it’s entirely because of his ego.

You really do feel great. Even with him laying flush on top of you and heavy, you don’t feel that familiar itch or urge to get away from him- for personal space which is surprising given the way he was eye and mouth contact with your most sensitively intimate areas only minutes ago.

“Mmm, better than okay- splendiforous even.” You smile as you feel his chest shake with laughter, shaking his head before kissing you again.

“Dr. Seuss? Really?” He raises an eyebrow and that same feeling that started all this begins to creep back in.

“Really really but”, you don’t know how to word it so you just pointedly look down and hope he catches your drift and he eventually does. Letting out a nervous but interested chuckle, tonguing the inside of his cheek before leaning down in your ear, the way his soft lips brush your skin makes heat slot up your spine.

“What about me?” Oh fuck.

You can’t wait to ask god what he got from creating someone as unnecessarily fine as Clark when he sends you to the afterlife.

Taking a deep breath, you manage to squeak out,

“Did you- don’t you want to…y’know…” Biting his lip to keep from smiling wolfishly, Clark drops his head on your shoulder. His breath in your ear making you shiver.

“I already did, baby.”

Oh?

“But I didn’t touch you-“

“But I- was touching you. Tasting you too and when you cum-”, he pauses to kiss wetly at your ear and you gasp, “it’s contagious, sweetheart.”

Oh.

The low whimper that leaves you has him ready to run laps and he gets real aware of how naked you are from the waist down and fights to control himself because it would be unfairly easy. Too easy to rile you up, rouse your curiosity about every single touchy thing you’ve never done and take you there but he can’t. He’s worn you out enough for one afternoon and fitting any part of him in you would be a whole other struggle entirely so he leaves that for another day when he’ll be following your lead again. A sleepy yawn breaks him out of his thoughts as he looks down at your pretty face.

“Tired?” You nod but make no move to separate and he bites his lip nervously at what now. You two were in similar circles but you never got on together so your odd relationship was new. He liked you, having you in his eye from afar since forever but he also knew how much too close could unnerve you.

“If you wanna nap I can go-”,

“Nah.” He swallows, trying not to sound to happy as your arms wrap around his big frame, snuggling into his warmth.

“No? But aren’t you tired? I don’t want to intr-”,

Your snort cuts him off.

“Intrude? I just gave you your very own lipgloss; it’s impossible for you to intrude now.” Touché. “Right, so-”,

“So now, we’ll get up after I catch my breath and then I’ll go clean up and after we’ll go get fries and do whatever covers.” You say casually but he hears your heart pounding and it sounds like a dream and he smiles, kissing you slowly for the countless times within the time you’ve been together, humming in agreement. You’re thankful he doesn’t point out the darkness of your cheeks- he still flusters you.

“Sounds perfect but what if I have plans?”

“You’ll cancel them.” You say, shrugging like it’s common knowledge and he’s reminded that he’s seen you, hence he knows you’re used to getting your way.

“You’re right. Good thing I’m free then, hm?”

You nod before running your nails up his back, cupping the back of his head as you bring him down for a sweet kiss. He warms all over, humming into your lips before he feels you pat at his shoulders- signaling him to get up so you can move. He does but you stay put, staring at him until he looks around with a confused smile.

“What?”

“Cover your eyes! I have to walk to the bathroom and I’m still naked!” Oh. Aw. How cute. Instead of teasing you, he simply nods but his smile says it all as his hands move to cover his sight.

“And if you even try to peek I’ll beat you up and steal your lunch money!” You huff out and he laughs, that devastating smile making your heart skip.

He hears you shuffle of the bed then stumble a bit before you get your footing then move around, there’s the ruffle of more fabric- probably pants- before nothing.

There’s a sudden quick press of warm softness on his lips and he gasps as your footsteps quickly pad away, the sound of the bathroom door closing seconds later and only then does he put his hands down, a hopelessly enamored grin on his face as he sits on your bed staring into space with the memory of your essence still fresh in his mouth.

Yeah. He was a goner but one thing is for sure: whatever he teaches you next- he’s taking you down with him but he gets the feeling that you’ll surprise him before then.

[trashytracktales]

For VDay requests: Lando takes her to a nice dinner and she gets mad at him idk maybe he does something without realizing. And then they come back home and shes still pissed but he looks so good after he changes in his comfy clothes so they end up fucking on the couch or something but that's when she tells him why was she mad at him ❤🥀

Happy Valentine's Day guys xx

Torn on Valentine | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for this request, I actually had so much fun with it. Enjoy your reading and happy Valentine’s, my lovelies!!

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🩷summary ──── Lando notices immediately that his girlfriend is angry with him. However, he has no idea why. But whatever the reason might be, he is determined to remind her exactly why she can't stay mad for long. It's Valentine’s Day, after all.

🩷pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🩷rating ──── explicit

🩷category ──── F/M

🩷warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, teasing, jealous!reader, mild dominance, begging, unprotected sex, slight angst-to-smut.

🩷word count ──── 4.4k (4.444 to be exact hehe)

🩷date ──── Feb. 14, 2025

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

VALENTINE’S DAY IS ruined.

Lando had gone all out to make sure that won’t happen, starting the morning by waking her up with muffins in bed, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the sheets as he pressed lazy little kisses to her neck.

They spent the day walking around the city, and shopping, wandering through little boutiques where he insisted on buying her anything and everything she had laid her eyes on.

And then, la pièce de résistance: a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A soft melody played from a piano in the corner, setting the perfect atmosphere. The food was great, the wine was good, and every detail screamed romance, from the flickering candle between them to the way Lando’s thumb traced tiny heart shapes on her hand as they talked, his eyes never leaving hers.

All in all, it had been perfect. Until he ruined it.

The moment was burned into her mind, replaying it over and over again, like a broken record. The waiter, a girl who had been a little too friendly with him all night, had leaned in when she refilled his wine at some point, brushing his shoulder with a touch that lingered for too long. And Lando, oblivious as ever, had winked at her.

Winked.

She knew her boyfriend. Knew he was clueless about these things, that his flirty nature wasn’t always intentional. But that didn’t make it sting any less. Because the waiter had noticed. She smirked at him, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and acted like his girlfriend wasn’t literally sitting on the other side of the table.

After that, she had gone silent.

The entire ride home, she stared out the window, with her arms crossed and lips pursed, and her knees facing the opposite way from him. Lando figured something was wrong ever since; he glanced at her between shifts, brows furrowing, but he didn’t say anything, probably thinking she was just tired.

Then they got home, and she had barely looked at him as she changed into something more comfortable, still replaying the scene in her head.

Had he done it on purpose? Probably not. But did it matter?

That’s… debatable. It mattered to her.

Deprived by every emotion except irritation, she followed Lando setting up his last surprise of the day �� a cozy movie marathon on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets, sweets and drinks, and a bunch of her favorite Valentine’s-themed movies ready to run.

Now, their apartment is quiet except for the hum of the TV that neither of them is really watching. The tension between them is thick, lingering in the air like a storm that hasn’t broken. Yet.

She breathes heavily, sitting curled up on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and arms crossed over her chest. Lando, on the other side, is content to let her be.

Until he isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we playing the guessing game again?” he finally asks, voice edged with concern. He knows that she needs time to process whatever’s bothering her at the moment, but his patience has limits, too.

She doesn’t look at him, just shrugs as she lies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Lando puffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’ve been side-eyeing me like I insulted your entire family ever since we got back. It’s annoying, you know? If you have something to say…” his voice trails off, but he feels a wave of anger building inside, so he decides to let go before making it worse.

Her jaw tightens.

She doesn’t want to give in, mostly because she knows that the reason why she’s mad is, well, kind of absurd. But at the same time, she’s frustrated in a way that isn’t just about her boyfriend winking at other girls. The weight of the week has been pressing down on her shoulders, and she needs something — him — but she’s too stubborn to say it. Especially now. Still, her eyes keep flickering down, lingering on the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the lazy way he’s sprawled out, legs spread wide.

He catches her looking, fighting a smile as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. “You wanna sit on it?”

Her head snaps toward him, face heating instantly at his question. “What?”

Lando shrugs, “You keep looking,” he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending you don’t want to.”

She scoffs, but can’t deny it. She does want to. Desperately. But she’s mad at him. So, she says nothing. Just presses her lips together, turning her attention back to the screen like she isn’t thinking about climbing onto his lap and letting him pull her apart, little by little.

On the TV, the main characters are making out, sending her mind spinning relentlessly, fueling her sudden desire. Apparently, that’s enough for her to decide that she has to put an end to it, finally taking Lando’s advice and speak her mind. But he’s faster. His hands are reaching out for her, almost like they appeared out of nowhere, gripping her waist, effortlessly pulling her onto his lap.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips, but she doesn’t fight him, and doesn’t push him away. If anything, she melts just a little, legs instinctively settling on either side of his hips.

He looks up at her, fingers squeezing at her waist. “That’s better, hm?”

She glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Lando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he counters, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs, thumbs brushing tiny, teasing circles on her skin. “And you’re not exactly running away.”

She hates how smug he is. Hates how easily he sees through her act. Hates how good he looks right now.

But then his hands slide further up, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her ass, pressing her down against him just enough for her to feel him through the fabric of his sweats. And the feeling is… intense to say the least, since she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and her pajama shorts.

Lando watches her closely, aware of the effect he has on her. “Gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to make you forget?”

She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But when he shifts beneath her, dragging her forward so deliciously slow, her resolve crumbles.

Her hands grip his shoulders, nails pressing in. “Shut up.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes, exasperated by his attitude, “Shut up and do something.”

Lando grins at her bluntness, fingers tightening on her hips as he rolls her against him again. “Ask nicely.”

She huffs annoyed, but so needy it aches. “Lando,” she warns in a low voice.

Lando shakes his head. “No, baby. You know how this works,” he reminds her, lips brushing against her neck as his hands keep guide her movements. “Use your words.”

She breathes lightly, head tipping back as the friction sends heat pooling low in her belly. “Please?”

“See, that’s a good start,” he chuckles, nipping at her jaw and dragging his tongue over the sting, “But I know you can do better.”

Her pride wars with her desperation, but it’s a losing battle. She needs more than that, and she knows he won’t give it to her until she breaks.

Next time she speaks, her voice is a whisper, breathy yet sweet, “I need you, please.”

He smirks as he watches her through his eyelashes, happy with the state he managed to put her in so easily. “There goes my girl.”

Lando can see the shift in her the second he finishes his sentence. It’s in the way frustration morphs into impatience, and how her breath hitches every time he grinds her against him but doesn’t give her what she really wants.

“I know you’re enjoying this, but there’s no reason for you to take your sweet ass time, you know that,” she mutters, her voice edged with irritation.

Lando shrugs. “And you know I like watching you squirm.”

She rolls her eyes, but her body betrays her — again and again. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, while her thighs tense around his waist. With a sharp exhale, she moves on her own now, hands sliding down between them, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. Lando follows her movements, amused, but doesn’t stop her as she pulls them down just enough to free him.

Her breath catches at the sight: he’s already hard, the head flushed deep red, leaking just slightly.

She glances back at him, brows raised, but Lando shrugs again, as if the reason is obvious. “You on my lap, begging? Kinda hard not to get… you know, hard.”

Her stomach clenches at his nonchalance, the way he acts like it’s inevitable. Like, of course he’d be this ready for her. Duh.

Lando exhales excited as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking just enough to make his hips twitch beneath her. His breath gets slightly unsteady after that, but his control remains.

“Getting bold now?” he asks, eyes locked on her as he pushes her shirt up just a little, tracing his fingers along the warm skin of her waist.

The girl doesn’t answer, just bites her lip as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down and letting them catch on the curve of her thighs before she kicks them away. That’s when the teasing glint in Lando’s eyes fades, replaced with something darker. He swallows hard, hands settling firm on her hips as he drinks her in.

“So soft,” he mumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

She feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being half-naked. It’s like he’s seeing everything, because he knows her so deeply. Like he’s about to ruin her in the best way possible.

And she’s going to let him.

Lando wraps his hand around hers and, together, they pump his cock slowly, his gaze always on her, watching the way her body responds to the sight of it. Then he runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there while he moves purposely, dragging the length of himself through her folds, groaning at how slick and warm she is.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to hers for a second, while she needs to hold on to him with both hands now. “You’re dripping.”

She whimpers as he does it again, sliding against her, teasing her clit with the thick head before pulling back, drawing out her frustration.

“Lando, don’t…” she whines, shifting against his chest, trying to get more of him.

Lando laughs, low and raspy, but his grip on her isn’t loosening one bit. “Patience, baby.”

“I need—”

“Yeah?” he cuts her off, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance this time, barely pushing in before pulling back out. “What? This what you need?”

Her stomach flips at the feeling, so raw, unable to spit out any words. Instead, she only manages to nod.

To show her that he appreciates her honesty, Lando guides her hips, dragging her along his length, pressing his swollen tip against her clit once more and holding her there. Without moving. She gasps, her whole body shuddering as the pressure sends sparks through her nerves.

Lando groans, feeling how she pulses against him, how her body aches for more. “Well, shit. That’s pretty,” he admits, watching her fall apart in his hands.

She lets a little cry out in protest, trying to push down, but he keeps her there, right on the edge of everything, everything.

“You gonna beg for it again?” he asks in a teasing voice.

She wants to fight him on it, but she can’t. Not when she’s this close to him, when every second of waiting feels like pure, unfiltered torture.

She shakes her head, her little cry turning into a throaty moan.

Lando gets ecstatic at the sound and the way her body shivers — so desperate, so utterly wrecked for him before he’s even inside her. For a split second, he considers giving in completely. But then he remembers she’s mad at him. Or at least, she was. And if she thinks she can get away with that attitude without consequence, she needs to understand that she’s sorely mistaken.

Instead of giving her what she wants, Lando kisses her. Hard. His lips crash into hers, swallowing the whimper of frustration that slips from her throat. He starts guiding her against him, harder now, making her ride the thick length of his cock without ever letting her sink onto it, the friction sweet but never enough. She tries to pull back, gasping against his mouth, but he doesn’t let her. One hand tangles in her hair, holding her close, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

Until her patience snaps and, with a sharp gasp, she bites his lip, just hard enough to make him hiss, her nails digging into his scalp as she pulls at his curls. Lando moans, a low, needy sound that strikes her like lightning. The sting, the fight, the way she’s clawing for a type of control she won’t get — not yet — motivates him to keep teasing her.

Annoyed, she lets her hand slip between them, fingers wrapping around his cock, slick and throbbing, before she finally sinks down onto him. Because, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to take matters into your own hands.

At that, both of them go silent.

Her body tightens around him instantly, the fullness of him stealing her breath, making her walls flutter as she adjusts to his length.

Lando’s forehead presses against hers, his lips parting with a violent inhale, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes, voice wrecked, “What buttons did I push?”

She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Neither does he.

They just sit like that, their bodies locked together so perfectly it almost feels cruel to even blink. The fight, the frustration, the teasing… it all fades away in one moment, replaced by something more intense. Something profund.

When she shifts just slightly, Lando whines, feeling the way she clenches around him, and how perfectly they fit together. The thought makes him throb inside her, the heat of her making his pulse race.

She presses her forehead harder against his, her breath shaky. “Baby,” she whispers, “Shit, you feel so good.”

Lando opens his eyes, finding hers already on him.

For a second, he’s happy to simply look at her. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are swollen from his kisses, the way she’s barely holding herself together — everything about her is perfection. Then, he lifts her up, and the sudden rush of cool air against his cock makes him moan.

She shrieks at the emptiness, at the way her body aches to take him back. “Please, not now,” she pleads.

Before she can continue, he shoves himself back in, agonizingly slow, making her feel every inch of him as he stretches her again. As a result, her head falls forward, a desperate whimper breaking from her throat.

Lando keeps his eyes on her, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “Already falling apart, love? I’ve barely even started.”

She whines, arms wrapping around his neck, hips twitching like she wants more. Much more.

“This what you needed, yes?” Lando taunts, rolling his hips just enough to make her lose her mind. “You gonna stop being a brat now?”

She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Lando smiles, dragging himself out just to push back in, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Keep those pretty eyes open,” he instructs, nipping at her jaw, “Come on. I wanna watch you break for me.”

Because he is absolutely evil, Lando keeps it slow. Too slow.

Every roll of his hips is calculated, dragging himself out so she feel his cock slipping away, then pushing back in deep, filling her up so completely it makes her walls pulsate. She can’t do anything but take it, her senses overwhelmed by him — by the rough drag of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips, the filthy sound of their bodies meeting.

Then his hands move, sliding up from her waist, fingers tracing over her ribs before finally cupping her breasts. It makes her gasp, her back arching into his touch as his thumbs sweep over her nipples, teasing a little, then rolling them between his fingers.

“So sensitive, look at that,” says Lando, his voice thick with lust. “Are you shaking, baby?”

She is. Her thighs tremble where they straddle him, her whole body squeezing him with every slow thrust, every lazy swipe of his thumbs against her skin.

His gaze drops between them, and his breath stutters at the image. “Beautiful.”

She doesn’t understand at first, too lost in how slowly he fucks her, but then he guides her chin down, forcing her to look.

And oh, fuck.

She can see everything: the way her body stretches to take him in, the way she’s dripping down his entire length, making a mess on his lap, and the way her thighs are trembling on each side of him.

Lando’s heart starts beating faster, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “See how you’re fucking ruining me?”

She lets out a soft, broken moan, fingers playing absentmindedly with the curls at the back of his head, mostly to anchor herself in the moment.

“Lan…”

“I know, love,” his tongue flicks against her pulse point before he kisses her jaw. “Not so mad at me now, are you?”

Right now? No. She realizes she’s not. She can’t be. Not when he’s touching her like this, fucking into her with such lazy, devastating precision. Not when he’s whispering filth into her ear while looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Her hands move, framing his face, tilting it up so she can kiss him again. But this time, their kiss is different. It’s not angry, not desperate, but tender and loving. A kiss that makes Lando’s grip falter, that steals the breath from his lungs and sends him to a new world that’s only inhabited by them.

She whimpers hungrily against his lips, and that’s what breaks him, because he knows he broke her first.

A guttural moan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into her thighs. And then he snaps. “Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispers next to her ear, thrusting into her harder. It takes her by surprise, the way he is holding her so tight like he’s trying to fuse them together. “Need you,” he adds.

The sudden change in pace fractures something in her brain to the point she can’t remember anything else except his name.

“It’s okay you’re mad,” Lando assures her. “You can be as mad as you want, yeah? All day, everyday,” he groans, voice wrecked. “I’m still gonna fuck you like this. Gonna give you exactly what you need. Whenever you need me, love.”

Her head falls back, a loud moan spilling from her lips as he loses himself in her, in the heat, the mess, and the way she clings to him.

“Always gonna take care of my girl,” he promises, sealing the words against her skin. “No matter what.”

She can feel his control slipping in the way his thrusts deepen, the rhythm faltering slightly as his breath becomes gradually uneven. He’s still trying to hold back, but she can tell he’s far from behaving. She feels his cock twitching so deliciously inside her, and the way his hands melt with her skin almost painfully on her hips. Every new sensation makes her dizzy, until it’s too much. The pressure building in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of him inside her, the way his hands start roaming over her skin, and his mouth leaving hot trails across her neck — all too much.

With a shaky breath, she collapses forward, her body unable to keep steady, falling against his chest as her hands slide weakly to his sides.

“I can’t,” she gasps, “Can’t hold myself up.”

Lando’s hands move immediately, his hold firm on her back, and voice filled with a deep urgency, “I got you, baby. You know I do.”

And then he flips them, his strength not-so-surprising as he rolls them onto the couch, her body now on her back with him above her. The new angle makes them both moan in unison, the sudden shift in depth making every movement feel sharper, more intense.

Lando’s hands find her thighs, pulling them apart so he can press deeper, pushing into her with a delicious force that makes her stomach tighten and her toes curl. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room — wet, sticky, perfect. Her hands reach up, gripping the back of the couch, her nails scratching at the fabric, trying to keep herself grounded as he fucks her harder.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando groans, his face flushed with sweat, his lips parted as he stares down at her, eyes wild with need. “You’re so fucking perfect, can’t get enough of you.”

She can feel him getting closer, the way his movements grow sloppier, more desperate, but there’s no slowing him down. He’s all in — in her, in the moment, and she can barely breathe under the weight of it all.

The sounds of their passion are unrestrained, loud, their breath ragged and frantic. It’s all they hear now: her moans, his grunts, the soft squeak of the couch beneath them. But as the tension starts to crack, she feels herself spiraling as closer to the edge as he is, and she finally feels the last remnants of her jealousy fade away.

She looks up at him, her vision blurry from the pleasure. “You… winked at the waiter.”

Lando freezes for just a moment, his thrusts shallow, and he looks down at her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he forces himself to regain control. “I did?” he breathes out wildly, his lips twitching with a laugh that’s barely contained.

She moans, biting her lip as she writhes under him, “Yes, when she came back with the wine,” she admits, her voice soft, barely a whisper. “It was so stupid, I wanted to throw it in your face.”

Lando finally laughs, a genuine chuckle, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her lips before pulling back. “Wanted to be mad, but you’re too busy getting fucked to even care now, hm?”

She wants to argue, wants to tell him he’s being a cocky bastard, but the words get lost in the sound of her own moans as his rhythm picks up again, faster this time, his cock hitting places inside her that have her seeing stars.

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice full of the tension and the blinding pressure building in her chest, “I’m so... Fuck. I’m close.”

Lando doesn’t ease off. “I know, baby. I feel it.” He pushes her closer, his hands gripping her legs just right, his thrusts brutal and relentless. “Wanna come for me?”

She doesn’t have enough time to process his words. The wave hits her hard, crashing over her like an unstoppable force, and her body goes taut, every nerve lighting up as she cries out, her back arching off the couch as she cums around him.

And Lando isn’t far behind.

He slams into her once more, and then his head falls on her chest with a groan as he releases, the hot pulse of his cum filling her up just as her own orgasm shakes through her. Breathless, they stay like that, bodies joined, both of them tangled in the aftershocks of their release.

“Next time, don’t wink at other girls if you want to keep your eyes,” she finally says, feeling him softening inside her.

“Next time,” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath, “Don’t go non-verbal on me. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. “You never mean it like that, do you?”

The air between them thickens, leaving behind an almost palpable silence. Affected by her last affirmation, Lando’s hands find home on her skin, the touch light, slightly hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the fragile calm that’s settled between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She traces her fingers through his curls, her body feeling like a flame now, flickering gently after being ignited. There’s a warmth spreading from her chest, outwards, a comfort that soothes the storm inside her. But still, her heart races, and the lingering heat from their connection seems to hum through her veins.

Lando shifts, moving to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her. She nestles into him, feeling the heat of his skin and the sweat against hers, the warmth of him grounding her.

“You okay?” she hears him again.

“Yeah... just needed a moment to catch my breath,” her voice is a soft murmur in his ears.

Lando smiles weakly, his lips curling with that familiar grin. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, fingers skimming her cheek like a whisper, and the gesture is enough to make her chest tighten.

“You’re everything I need, silly. Always.”

She knows that. And luckily, the storm inside her has subsided. “I’m sorry, too. For being stubborn,” she whispers, her voice full of a quiet vulnerability.

Lando chuckles, “Stubborn is an understatement.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Don’t push it.”

His hands, once firm and assertive, now trace delicate patterns over her skin, mapping every curve, every inch of her as though trying to imprint her into his soul. There is no need for words now, not anymore.

As Lando presses another soft kiss to her lips, she remembers why they will always be able to overcome any childish misunderstanding.

“I love you,” she says, her voice steady.

He smiles, feeling a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. And, instead of saying it back, Lando tilts his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a teasing smirk.

Then, he winks at her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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