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#with my old headphones i would just place them on a pile of laundry because the cord was also pretty short
moon-lixie · 3 years
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about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.
word count: 2.046k
genre: slight angst
song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids
I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.
With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.
From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.
He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.
Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.
First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.
A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.
Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.
He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.
Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.
He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.
It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.
Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.
Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.
Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.
Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.
Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.
Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.
He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.
Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.
It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.
Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.
He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.
From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.
It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.
Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.
Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.
All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.
He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.
Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.
Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.
But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.
On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.
Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.
In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.
If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.
Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.
It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.
For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.
He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.
Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.
If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.
Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.
Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.
He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.
He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.
Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.
Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.
Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.
The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.
Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.
For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.
I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.
Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.
"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.
He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.
I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.
Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.
The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.
Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.
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snackhobi · 4 years
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pairing: namjoon x reader / word count: 9.3k / genre: pwp/smut
summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand.
warnings: sexually explicit content, masturbation, edging (kinda), unintentional voyeurism (briefly), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), bigdick!joon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation (reader gets fucked dumb), praise, aftercare (please heed the warnings, and let me know if I need to clarify/add any!)
--
For most people, Sunday is a day of rest. But not for you.
Sunday means chores. Sunday means tidying up, dusting, vacuuming. Sunday means finally doing all the Adult Things you’ve been too busy/lazy to do for the rest of the week (or even longer than that, as evidenced by your overflowing laundry basket). Sunday means work. 
You slap at your vibrating phone, fingers sliding uselessly across the screen as you fumble to cut off the chirping alarm, and then you groan. “Ugh." You bury your head into your crumpled pillow. And then, once more, with feeling: “Uggggggh.”
You roll around in your bed, thrashing a little like a child having a tantrum, before you flop on your back and stare at your ceiling with your limbs akimbo, a starfish.
“Why?” You whine out to no one in particular. “Why me?”
Fortunately you live alone, so there’s no one to witness your sulky behaviour.  You would put off getting all your errands done, but you’ve already been doing this for so long that you’re practically out of clean clothes to wear. That’s one part about living alone that’s a double-edged sword- you have your own space where you can act however you please, which is Great, but also you’re the only one responsible for keeping on top of things, which is Less Great. You can’t rely on other people to get things done for you.
You’ve never been a morning person, and the fact it’s so nice outside already does nothing to brighten your mood; it’s the perfect kind of day, the chilled bite to the air mellowed by the sun in the cloudless, pale sky, and you’re going to have to spend it indoors. Ugh. You eventually grit your teeth and pull yourself out of bed, waking yourself up with a cold shower. Once you force a cup of overly sweet coffee into your system and the caffeine hits you so that you’re fully awake and ready to go, the world suddenly feels a lot more bearable. So you’re unperturbed when your underwear drawer comes up practically empty.
“Oops,” you say. “Oh well.”
It’s practically empty, but not entirely; there, at the back, there’s that pretty lingerie set you’d bought on a whim in a sale and then promptly never worn. Honestly you’d be happy to go without, seeing as no one else is here and you have no one to look pretty for, but you find that you never get anything done if you’re not in a bra. It’s like a Pavlovian response that you've ingrained into yourself: when you get home, your bra comes straight off, no ifs, buts, or maybes. Bra off means it’s Relaxation Time. Bra on? That means it's time to get things done.
But, yeah, if you’re going to wear the bra, you may as well wear the matching thong, right? It came as a set so you’d basically be committing a crime if you didn’t wear them together. You take one moment to admire yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that to appreciate how it makes you look, before promptly ruining the illusion of sexiness by covering it up with a pair of old sweatpants and a too-large tank top. They're the only bits of clothing not in your laundry basket that you don't mind getting dirty while you clean, so, you have to make do.
The worst part about doing chores is getting the whole process started, but you’ve been doing this long enough that you have a routine. Bra on, hair up, mental checklist ready. You toddle through to the kitchen with your laundry basket, picking through for the colours and whites, feeling entirely too accomplished once you get the first load sorted. This kickstarts the whole chore procedure and once you get stuck in, you actually start to have fun; you’ve got your noise cancelling headphones on and your cleaning playlist is full of songs that get you pumped up, and you sing along to the music as you get started on your next job.
You wiggle your butt to the rhythm of the beat while you hoover, pushing your vacuum into the corners of your flat and ruthlessly sucking up the dust bunnies that have gathered there. You're in the middle of belting out one particularly long note when a spider scuttles out from under your sofa and the note rises into a little scream; you act on pure instinct and suck the spider up into the hoover, watching as all the long hairy legs fold together and get schlorped into the vacuum’s nozzle before disappearing forever. You feel immediately relieved but also immensely guilty when this happens- spiders are awful and you hate them but usually you’d try your best to catch them under a cup before flinging it outside, so the fact you’ve maybe just killed it? You really are just awful. (But thank God it’s gone.)
Maybe that's enough hoovering for now.
You empty the dust bag into the bin, mindful of the fact that the spider might still be alive and come crawling out onto your hands. Thankfully it doesn’t, but you’re not going to take any chances; you draw the bin liner shut and tie it tight, before deciding that the best course of action is to put it into your outside bin, in case the spider decides to come back with a vengeance. 
You hoist the bag up and pause for a second to glance down at how the straps of your too-loose top have slipped down your shoulders to reveal the top of bra, the intricate lace trim of the cups and extra straps that criss cross your chest- definitely an, uh, interesting outfit choice for a quick trip out of your flat. You make the executive decision to shrug on a hoodie and zip it all the way to your neck to preserve your modesty and save you from the chill outside. Once that’s done it takes two seconds to slip your feet into your (fake) Converse shoes, another few seconds to fiddle with the lock on your door, struggling with the latch- it’s been a bit janky for a while and you keep forgetting to sort it out- before you hop your way downstairs and  to the outside shed where everyone's bins are stored.
Ewch. It doesn’t smell that great in here. You make quick work of dumping your rubbish and escaping from the hut, shutting the door firmly behind you to try and keep the stench locked inside, before almost falling over when you feel the telltale sensation of a cat curling around your ankles. He’s meowing up at you but your headphones have been drowning him out, so you slide them off your ears and hook them around your neck so you can actually hear him.
"Oh, hi, baby!" The ginger stray likes to hang nearby the building, always friendly and happy to see you, even if he seems to like sneaking up when you least expect it. He meows at you again as you squat down to stroke him, butting his head into your palm as his tail curls in delight. "Aren't you just the most gorgeous boy? Yes, you are, aren't you?"
The cat ends up putting his paws onto your knee to butt his face against yours, and the next thing you know, you have an armful of cat. You laugh and continue to pet him, cooing at how cute he is as he purrs back. "Awh, baby, you're so sweet," you say. "I wish I could take you home, but my meanie landlord says we can't have pets."
“I was thinking of starting a petition, actually, so the landlord gets rid of the No Pets clause in the tenancy agreement. You’re welcome to sign it if you like.”
You glance up from where you’ve been allowing the cat to shove his nose against your chin, standing up straight to address the man who’s talking to you, cat still clutched in your arms. “Oh! Hi, Namjoon-ssi. That’s such a good idea, I love that. Stick it to the man. I’d definitely sign it. How are you today?”
Kim Namjoon, aka your neighbour from across the hall, is smiling at the cat in your arms. Namjoon’s the perfect neighbour and ideal tenant- quiet, tidy, considerate, although he does have a tendency to lose his keys and gets locked out of his flat on a pretty regular basis. 
It’s actually how you’d started to talk in the first place. When you first moved in you’d given him a small box of chocolates to endear yourself to your same-floor-friend, only exchanging small nods and pleasant greetings for a while after that, but after you’d found Namjoon waiting sheepishly on his own doorstep- “My friend has a key but it’s going to take him a little while to get here,” he’d explained- you’d invited him into your own flat to wait, rather than just in the hall. 
Since then you’ve started to have chats whenever you see each other, and occasionally knock on each other’s doors whenever you ask to borrow things like sugar or a screwdriver or whatever, and you always invite Namjoon in for a cup of tea when he’s waiting for one of his friends to rescue him from his own forgetful nature. You’re still toeing the line between Friendly Neighbours and Kind Of Friends, but one thing you already know and admire about Namjoon is his ability to actually be a mature and put together adult. Sure, you drink a decent amount of water, you have a skincare routine with multiple steps, and you usually manage to eat your 5-a-day, but a lot of that feels like you do it because you’re expected to, sort of like a child playing make-believe. 
Namjoon, meanwhile, manages to just ooze the sort of gravitas that comes with being a fully realised human being, someone who actively participates in the world around them because they’re entirely engaged with things and basically just Super Mature Adult (even if he apparently loses/breaks things on a fairly regular basis). Hence why you’re not at all surprised at the petition thing, or when Namjoon proceeds to tell you that he’s going to spend the afternoon at his friend’s uncle’s strawberry farm, picking fruit, because of course Namjoon is the kind of guy who supports local, organic, free range produce. (Wait. Can strawberries be free range? Or is that just eggs?)
“Ahh, I love strawberries! That’s so cool,” you say. “It must be fun.”
“You’re welcome to come, if you like,” Namjoon says. He’s always gracious so you know he’s just saying this to be polite, but you can’t help but think it would probably be really nice to spend time picking fruit and talking with him.
“Ah, I’d love to, but unfortunately I have prior commitments. I’m catching up on chores,” you admit ruefully. You’re still absently scritching the ginger cat’s chin as you speak, the animal purring up a storm in your arms and shedding all over your clothes, although you don’t notice or care. Namjoon is incredibly endeared- not that you notice that, either. “Hence the runway-ready outfit.”
Your hair is so messy it looks like some sort of wild possum has been nesting in it, your hoodie sleeves are so long they threaten to swallow your hands, and you’re not even wearing your cheap knock-off shoes properly- you’re stepping on the back collar of them in your bare feet so they’re basically glorified flip-flops at this point. Total fashionista. (Not.)
Namjoon, however, seems surprised at your dismissive tone. “You look cute and cozy,” he says.
You snort in an unladylike way, lifting the cat in your arms a little- you can’t gesture properly with an armful of fur, especially when the stray takes this as an invitation to crane upwards and shove his little face into the crook of your neck, knocking against your headphones. “Cute baby,” you coo at the cat, before turning your attention back to Namjoon. “You look cute and cozy,” you echo. It’s a little chilly today and Namjoon’s wrapped up, long scarf curled around his neck, beanie on his head, hem of his coat fluttering around his thighs. Super cozy, and again, a well-put-together adult. 
You muffle a sigh. He’s a well-put-together and hot adult, tall and built, so handsome in his casual outfit, effortlessly masculine. You’ve been lowkey crushing on Namjoon for a while now, as futile as that effort is- you haven’t seen any evidence of a special someone in Namjoon’s life, but there’s no way that man is single. Even if he somehow is, he’s like, a bajillion light years out of your league, hyper intelligent and kind and gorgeous, in comparison to your… um… your… well. Yeah. In comparison to that. 
He’s nice to you and he smiles whenever he sees you, though, and your weak little heart can’t help but flip flop in your chest whenever you see that dimpled little smile, even if you know you don’t have a chance in hell that he really thinks that you’re cute. He’s just being polite. 
The cat in your arms gives a little wriggle, apparently sated for the day, and you carefully squat down to deposit him onto the ground. He gives you both one last little mewl before scampering off and you fondly watch him go. “Let me know when you have that petition written up,” you say, brushing the cat hairs off your sleeves. “I better get back to my flat, I need to finish the rest of my laundry so I can continue the facade of being a functional adult. Have a great day, Namjoon-ssi, and I hope you enjoy the strawberries! You’ll have to tell me how they are.”
“I will,” he says, eyes warm as he smiles, those little dimples appearing in his cheeks. Ugh, you want to touch them so much. “Good luck with your laundry.”
Namjoon’s beautiful smile fuels you for the rest of the day, buoying you up as you scrub the walls of your shower and bleach your toilet, bright yellow gloves a size too large for your hands as you spritz your bathroom counter. You might not be a legitimate adult in the same way that your neighbour is but you can give it a damn good go; even if the rest of your life is maybe a bit more chaotic than you’d like, you can at least get your surroundings in order.
And you do. By the time you’re finished with hoovering and mopping your floors and reorganising your clutter, your flat feels brand-spanking new again, fresh and clean and airy. You’d even lit a few scented candles earlier and you give yourself a pat on the back for your forward thinking as you snuff them out, the delicate smell of vanilla lightly filling the apartment. All that’s left is to go to the kitchen and put the final load of laundry in the tumble dryer and once that’s been emptied and sorted, you’re all finished. Mission accomplished. Chores done.
Once the tumble dryer has started its cycle you reward yourself with a cup of tea, a blackcurrant and blueberry fruit infusion that you’d gotten as a Secret Santa gift at work and hadn’t used yet, saving it for a special occasion. You hum to yourself and continue to wiggle your hips to the music trickling out of your headphones as the kettle boils, watching the purple that bleeds from the tea bag once the hot water cascades over it. It looks rich and vibrant and it smells so good- but then you make a little face when you take a sip. Fruit teas never taste as good as they smell. It’s not bad but it’s a little disappointing, really, a subpar reward after a hard day of work. 
You stand in the middle of your kitchen with your mug still in your hand, eyes unfocused as you stare into space, trying to think of things in your flat that you could use to reward yourself. You’ve already used up those fancy gel eye masks that Jimin had given you for your birthday, and you’d let Jungkook have your sheet masks when he’d said his favourite brand was out of stock; Taehyung had pilfered all of your bath bombs as part of an experiment (the experiment being that he wanted to know what colour his bath water would turn if he used all your different bath bombs in it- the answer was ‘an incredibly underwhelming, if glittery, sludge brown’), and he still hasn’t gotten around to replacing them.
Pay day isn’t until next week and you’re tight enough on money at the moment that you don’t want to order out for dinner- living alone means you have to pay more rent so you have to be more careful with money- so you’re out of ideas. 
That is until motion out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You glance over at it, pulled out of your reverie; the old tumble dryer has been in this flat longer than you and it’s showing signs of wear and tear, base warped a little from age, noisy and wobbly as your clothes are being spun inside. You pause, mug dropping a little in your hand as the thought briefly flickers through your mind, before you bite your lip and throw caution to the wind. Fuck it. You live alone and you’ve had a long day and you deserve some kind of reward. 
You abandon your unfinished mug of tea in the sink before eyeing the shaking tumble dryer. You hoist yourself up, straddling the corner of the machine, a little shiver running through you when you feel the vibrations through your legs and thighs as you settle into place; it takes time to situate yourself, thighs spreading as you tilt your hips forward and press your heat against the rumbling dryer. You shift on your hands, palms braced against the top of the machine as you wriggle into the best position- the second you get just the right angle you let out a little gasp, eyes squeezing shut when you feel how the shaking machine is sending vibrations throughout your entire body.
You keep your eyes shut as you continue to find the right rhythm. You rock your hips forward each time the machine rocks back, rolling the weight of your body down towards your clenching cunt; the vibrations are so strong that you can feel them through your sweatpants, lace of your thong rubbing against your clit in a deliciously rough way, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through you.
As you continue to work yourself up, your skin starts to feel overheated under your clothes, even with the chill spring air seeping into the flat- you fumble with the zip of hoodie, letting the material sag open before you brace yourself with your palms again. You feel how the hoodie slips down your arms, baring your shoulders, and you tilt your head back, revealing the line of your neck as you arch your spine. Each rumble of the machine rolls through you, wetness starting to slicken your folds as you grind down a little harder. It’s a steady, slow climb towards your peak- you shut your eyes to focus fully on the pleasure building between your legs, the way your clit feels swollen and almost over-sensitive from the strong vibrations from the dryer, the way your pussy clenches whenever you get the angle just right.
You start to gasp, biting back moans when you feel how your orgasm is getting closer. You lift one hand from the top of the dryer to run your hands over your skin- your neck, your throat, tracing over the straps of the bra that are digging into the swell of your breasts. It’s good, really good, but it’s not enough; every time you feel like the peak of your orgasm is about to crest, it ebbs away again, and you let out a little whine from the back of your throat. 
With your eyes still shut, you try to conjure up images that’ll arouse you and send you tumbling over the edge. Hands on your body, lips against your skin, your mouth. Normally when you masturbate you try to keep away from thinking about anyone in particular, because you feel like if you see that person in the future they’ll just telepathically know about it and you end up feeling awkward and guilty (even if you know it's illogical)- but today you can’t help it. Your mind slips to the thought of Namjoon this morning and the way he’d smiled at you, and once you start thinking about Namjoon, you can’t stop. 
Namjoon’s smile. His mouth. His tongue. His hands, his fingers. His tall, beautiful body, pressing you down against a mattress, trapping you against him. You take the hand that’s been trailing over your collarbones and lift it to your mouth and press two fingers past your lips, trying to imagine that it’s Namjoon. Imagine that it’s the weight of his cock on your tongue, hard and heavy. You bet it’s as gorgeous as the rest of him. You bet he tastes so good, hot and salt and maybe a little bitter, heady and masculine; you let out a low moan around your lips as you run the pads of your fingertips over your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth.
All the while, your music has been playing on, heavy beat thrumming through you as you forget the outside world and focus on the reality you’re conjuring in your mind. Namjoon’s cock in your mouth. Namjoon’s mouth on your cunt. Namjoon’s skin against yours. Namjoon fucking into you, hard and deep. Your blood rises in your veins, toes curling as you can feel how your orgasm is getting ever closer now that you’re this turned on, your cunt leaking with arousal; the thought of Namjoon wanting you as much as you want him is dizzying, as unlikely as it is. The Namjoon in your mind fucks into you with a particularly rough thrust and in the real world you respond with a moan, garbled around the fingers between your lips. Fuck, you’re so close. 
Just as you're nearly there, your playlist ends and everything lapses into silence, your reverie shattered. The moment is gone. Your orgasm slips away from you again and you whimper, unintentionally edging yourself yet again. 
Your eyes flutter open briefly when your haze is broken, although you squeeze them back shut so that you can get back to picturing Namjoon and finally bring yourself to completion- but then your eyes fly open again, fingers stuttering in your mouth and hips going still as your entire body stiffens, blood turning to ice in your veins.
The very real Kim Namjoon is standing in the doorway of your kitchen. There’s a look of utter shock on his face, his lips parted, eyes so wide it looks like his eyeballs are going to pop out of his skull, frozen in place. You don’t know how long he’s been there. You don’t know if he’s just walked in on you. Really, though, it doesn’t matter if he’s been there for five seconds or five hours- he’s seen everything, the way there’s saliva dripping from your mouth around your fingers, tank top barely hiding your lingerie, the way you’ve been bucking your hips against the dryer. Utterly desperate and debauched and depraved. 
There’s a small, white plastic bag in Namjoon’s hands with a pretty strawberry logo on it, drooping further and further towards the floor as his arms go slack. You don’t notice it until it’s slipping loose from his fingers and landing on the floor. 
Berries go rolling out of the sagged plastic and across the tiles but Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice. That single point of motion in the room seems to kickstart your brain into gear, your flight or fight response screaming flight, and you practically throw yourself off the tumble dryer. Your brain is entirely empty of logical thought right now and the only thing you can think of is that you need to get away and hide forever. 
You rush past a still frozen Namjoon, stumbling down your hallway towards your open front door- you notice that the latch is stuck, not clicking into place when you’d come back inside earlier and leaving the door unlocked, you idiot. Namjoon always knocks and it must have swung open as soon as he rapped his knuckles against it, and you wouldn’t have heard it over your goddamn music. You absolute, utter idiot.
You’re not thinking about how illogical it is to flee from your own home to get away from someone. You’re just thinking about your escape. Taehyung’s flat is the nearest and it won’t take long to run there and you can survive without shoes; you’re still barefoot but you don’t have time to grab anything. You have to run. 
You’re just stretching out for the door when you feel large hands grab you from behind. You flail, door swinging shut as your fingers brush against it before you’re being pulled backwards by the arms that have slid around your waist. You start to struggle, squirming in the hold, pushing at the hands trapping you as you instinctively still try to get away from the shame and embarrassment; Namjoon’s body is warm and solid against your back, his muscles effectively trapping you in place, and you can feel how his voice rumbles through him as he speaks, audible through the silence of your headphones.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
You’ve never heard Kim Namjoon sound like this. His voice is authoritative, commanding. The part of your brain that acts on pure instinct- the part that just told you to go hurtling out onto the street without shoes- responds instantly, and you immediately go lax in his hold even though you’re still internally panicking.
“I was planning on going to the moon,” you say, unable to cover up how your voice is shaking, even if you’re trying to hide behind sarcasm. It’s your only defence right now. Your skin prickles with embarrassment. “Where else do you think?”
Namjoon lets out a chuckle, and your toes curl at how deep the sound is. “The mouth on you.” He sounds amused. You can’t look him in the eye. “Were you trying to get away from me?”
“‘Trying’ is the operative word.” You’re still staring resolutely at the door- it’s swung shut and the latch has actually clicked upwards this time. Traitor.  “As you can tell, I’m not doing a very good job. The sooner I go, the sooner I get the paperwork started for my move to Fiji.”
“I thought you were planning on going to the moon.” Namjoon’s hold on you is still firm. You’re utterly helpless. “Changed your mind?”
“Going to open a diner in Fiji to raise funds for my moon mission. It’s a long plan.” The spike of adrenaline that had burst through you is already dissolving in your system, leaving you feeling limp and strung out. You can’t see Namjoon’s face with how your back is crushed against his chest; when you glance down all you can see is how big his hands are against your stomach. Despite yourself, you shiver. As panicked and embarrassed as you are, arousal is still trickling through you, and you hate yourself for the effect that Namjoon is having on you right now. You try to sound calm and unaffected as you continue to speak, but you feel breathless from the lingering pleasure tingling between your legs. “Can you let me go now, please?”
“Is that really what you want?” You’ve had your hands on his wrists from how you’d been trying to push them away, so you feel how one of Namjoon’s hands starts to slide downwards, slow as treacle, and your breath hitches as his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweatpants. They don’t go any further than that, palm splayed over your hipbone, but you feel your pussy clench at the warmth of his hands on your skin and a whimper slips out of you. “Or do you actually want something else?”
Your fingers dig into his wrists. When you open your mouth to reply, your words fail you and instead you just let out a little breath.  You’re in utter disbelief at what’s happening right now, unsure of what’s going on- you’re not an idiot but there is no way that Namjoon is implying what you think he’s implying. Absolutely no way. Not a chance in hell. What?
As you continue to stay silent, brain trying to catch up with the situation, Namjoon doesn’t move.
“Use your words, baby,” he murmurs. “I need to know that you want this.”
Oh, fuck. When Namjoon calls you baby it feels like a switch has been flipped inside you; like he’s slipped a missing fuse into place and your entire body has lit up, full of energy and electricity from his touch. It’s overwhelming. “Of course I want this,” you confirm, trembling, and then: “I want you.”
Namjoon responds by finally moving his hand downwards. You watch as it goes, how he pauses when he makes contact with the fabric of your underwear, the unmistakable texture of embroidered lace under his touch. He drags his fingertips across the straps that cross over themselves, an arrow guiding him to his mark; your entire body goes tense when his fingers glance over your swollen folds, slick through the fabric.
You gasp. You’re still trapped against him by the strong arm curled around you, but your hands are free- you pull your headphones off and let them fall to the floor, twisting your head around so you can finally look at Namjoon’s face. His eyes are hooded and dark. He looks nothing like the cute and clumsy man who waves you good morning every day; he looks like some hungry animal, a predator who’s been waiting for the right time to swallow his prey whole.
“Namjoon,” you breathe. He gives you a small smile that’s more of a smirk, utterly at odds to his usual dimpled beams.
“You don’t have to settle for an old tumble dryer, gorgeous.” He kisses the bare skin of your shoulder, right next to where your bra strap is resting, eyes locked on yours. His lips are so soft and you shiver. “Let me help you.”
“I’ll have you know that tumble dryer was very close to getting me off, actually.” You’re so turned on right now but you can’t help the words slipping out; a lifetime of snark doesn’t leave you the second you start feeling horny. “So it’s less you helping me, and more you giving me something you owe me, seeing as you took it away in the first place.”
Namjoon’s silent for a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far- if you’ve run your mouth too much- when he hums. “Ah,” he says. “That’s true. You’re right.”
“Huh?” You say eloquently, surprised, but then he takes the hand out of your sweatpants and you whine. “Hey, put that back, you’re not done yet.”
Namjoon lets out a little chuckle. “No, I’m not,” he agrees. “But I want to see this pretty lingerie properly. You’re all covered up and that just won’t do.”  
He punctuates this statement by taking both of his hands to your hoodie, where it’s been caught at your elbows, and sliding it off you. He drags his large palms down your arms as he does this, cool against your overheated skin; goosebumps appear in the wake of his touch and you shiver again. You have no idea what's going on right now. Everything feels like some sort of fever dream but you're not about to start complaining.
“If you’re about to see me in my unmentionables I’d least like a kiss first,” you say, pout audible in your voice. The truth is you’ve thought about Namjoon’s plush lips more often than you’d like to admit, how beautiful his mouth is, and it’s got to be illegal for Namjoon to have been touching you for as long as he has without letting you have at least one taste of his kisses. “Please?”
“Turn around, baby.” You instantly comply, all but throwing your arms around his neck as you look at him with an innocent, bambi gaze; he still has that half-lidded set to his eyes but you can see how that ravenous hunger is softened by his smile. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” you say. You might sound like the protagonist to some cheesy romance film right now but the truth is that you’re still aware of the heat between your legs, the ebbed arousal that’s still coiling low in your stomach, and as much as you want to kiss Namjoon, you want to cum, too. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss m-”
Namjoon kisses you. He cuts you off mid sentence by slotting his mouth against yours, open around the word he swallows, and he immediately presses his tongue past your lips; you yield to him, letting him press his lips to your cupid’s bow as you lick his lower lip, soft and full. Just as good as you thought. No- better. His hands stay steady around your waist, but yours keep moving as you keep kissing- his shoulders, his nape, his hair, his jaw. Every part of him is so warm and solid against you and you just can’t get enough.
You slant your head to get deeper, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in a way that borders on lewd, rubbing against each other as you trade saliva, your mouth full of the taste of Namjoon. You swear there’s a lingering taste of strawberries. You feel better, a little more in control now that you know Namjoon will indulge you even if you’re being a brat, and you can finally chase the thing that got this whole sequence of events started.
“I wanna cum, Namjoon,” you murmur against his lips once you finally part, breathless from his kisses. “Will you help me cum? Please? Pretty please?”
Namjoon’s lip curls back from his teeth in a silent growl, and a shudder runs through you at the sight; seeing your usually composed neighbour act like this because of you is a heady sensation. “You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you,” he says, and your pussy throbs with need at his words.
“Jesus Christ, Namjoon.” Your eyes are wild. “I want you to fucking wreck me.”
You get no warning before Namjoon is literally sweeping you off your feet and you squeal in surprise when you feel them leave the ground, but Namjoon’s grip on you is steady as he lifts you in a bridal hold. You feel breathless at this physical representation of his strength- you’ve only seen his bare arms once (that had been a nice morning) before but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about how thick they are, as evidenced by the way he’s carrying you. 
Normally you’d probably be chewing him out for lifting you without warning, but right now there’s a very base, animalistic part of you that goes belly up at the very obvious reminder of Namjoon’s superior power. The instinctual part of you that had initially told you to run away from him now seems entirely content with the fact you’ve been caught, and so you stay quiet in his arms. You cling tight to him as he walks to your bedroom without the need for directions, your flat the mirrored twin to his; you keep kissing his neck as he nudges the door open with his foot, running a hand down his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. 
He’s so fucking hot, what the fuck.
He’s hot, and strong, but gentle, too. When Namjoon sets you down he’s so careful even though he could easily manhandle you in any way he wanted, and you give him a kiss as a thank you. It’s a brief moment of quiet, that little kiss, but then Namjoon is pulling you back towards him and his hands are all over as he helps you strip; Namjoon’s eyes are heavy on your body as he drinks you in, finally wearing nothing but the lingerie he’s been so desperate to look at.
He sees the way the interweaving straps rest against your skin with the perfect amount of pressure, little swells letting him know that he’ll be able to trace the touch of lace on your body even after he’s ripped it off you. The lace cups of your bra do nothing to hide how your nipples are standing to attention, begging to be touched. But the most eye-catching thing, the thing that Namjoon can’t stop looking at, is how sodden the lace between your legs is; your inner thighs are slick with your arousal, shining, and you haven’t even cum yet. 
“Look at you. So gorgeous,” Namjoon says. “Gonna make you cum over and over, baby.”
His hands feel so good against your skin as he skims his fingers over your panties, but he doesn’t take them off, and you let out a needy little noise. “Please,” you whine. “I need to cum, Joonie, been waiting so long.”
Namjoon watches as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra and reaches for your hands, stopping your motions. You blink up at him, confused, but then he’s turning you towards the bed and bending you over it, motions firm and undeniable; not that you would try to defy him, anyway. You brace your palms against the mattress and instantly arch your spine so that your ass is pushed out, enticing as possible.
You’re wondering if you’re going to have to beg for Namjoon to touch you but it seems what little patience he had has run out; his warm palms are immediately against your ass, touch reverent as he slides his hands over your skin, and you press back into that touch, wanting more of it. His hands skim up your sides and his fingers dance along the edge of your bra before reaching for the hooks, unfastening it so that it slips down your arms and onto the bed before you shove it aside. 
He bends over you, chest broad and warm against your naked shoulderblades, arms coming around your body so that he can cup your breasts in his large hands; his palms cover so much of your skin, your sensitive nipples, and you gasp at the shock of sensation that shoots through you as he drags his hands over them before using his fingers to pinch the hardened nubs. You twist your head and make a little noise, and Namjoon obliges you with a kiss, grinning against your mouth with each desperate sound he muffles with his plush lips.
Eventually, though, he pulls away from you. You glance over your shoulder to see that he’s gotten to his knees, still staring at your soaking core, before he hooks one of his thumbs into the fabric covering your aching pussy and pulls it aside before pressing his mouth against you.
“Oh, fuck!” Your body goes weak and you slump forwards onto your elbows and shove your face into the bed, and Namjoon follows when this moves you away from him, tongue buried in your cunt as he eats you out with no mercy. He’s utterly shameless, noises slick and lewd as he drags his wet tongue over your entrance and clit, swallowing down all the arousal that’s leaking out of you, ravenous. You reach behind you with one of your hands to grip his hair, and when you grind back against his face he lets out a satisfied hum; you gasp at the vibrations against your lower lips, oversensitive from all your edging.
“Gonna cum,” you say, twisting your head so that your cheek is pressed to your rumpled blanket. “I’m so close, oh, God, Namjoon-”
He’s been rubbing his tongue up and down your clit in a particularly sinful way, and after one more particularly hard stroke, you finally, finally reach that precipice you’ve been reaching for all day. You shove your face back into the blanket as you cum, all your gasps and moans coming together in one long cry as your toes curl and you tighten your fingers so hard into your sheets you almost pull them off the mattress. Your entire body trembles as your cunt pulsates with pleasure, each ripple of your pussy feeling like it’s passing through your whole body, and Namjoon doesn’t let up for a second, lapping down each wave of cum that flushes out of you. You feel utterly weak as you flop forwards against the mattress, boneless and shaky, but Namjoon’s mouth is still on you and you let out a whimper, oversensitive.
“It’s too much,” you gasp. “Namjoon-”
He takes his mouth off you immediately. “Sorry, baby,” he apologises, pressing a kiss against the swell of your ass. You want to sag your lower body against the bed but his hands are keeping you up, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass and hips. “You just taste so good. Can you lie down for me?”
“Yes,” you say into the blanket, your voice a muffled slur. You’re so eager to please him even though you feel so weak from your post orgasm haze, and your muscles feel like jelly as you try to lift yourself onto the bed. Namjoon obviously notices how fucked out you are because he helps flip you over so that you’re on your back, staring up at him.
You continue to stare at him as he sheds his clothes. You let your gaze shamelessly rove over his body as it’s revealed- the honeyed tone of his skin, the muscles that shift underneath it, his shoulders, his arms, his chest, the long legs, the thick thighs, the trail of hair that dips down to his-
“Holy fuck.” Your voice is reedy with desperation, and Namjoon laughs.
His cock has to be the biggest you’ve seen in real life, long and thick, fully erect even though you haven’t touched it yet- the fact that you’re apparently arousing enough to bring him to full hardness is flattering, honestly. Even as you stare at it, it twitches, a dribble of precum oozing from the flushed head, almost an angry red from neglect. You watch, enraptured, as he circles his fingers around it; it doesn’t look any smaller in his large hands. He pulls on his cock, long and slow, before he spits onto it and fucks into his fist as you watch him, spreading the wetness over himself.
“Gonna fill that hungry little pussy with this cock,” he says. “Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl. Is that what you want?” Namjoon watches you as he thumbs at his slit, precum weeping from his tip. “Does my good girl want this cock?”
“I want it,” you beg. You do, you want it so bad. His mouth and lips and tongue felt so good but it must be nothing in comparison to how good it’ll feel to be filled up  by Namjoon’s heavy, long cock. “Fuck, Namjoon, please, I want it.”
You lift your hips so that Namjoon can slide your panties off you. He stares at the strings of wetness that cling to them as he peels them away from your core, finally bare to the cool air of the room, and you suck in a breath. He wastes no time, climbing onto the bed and settling above you, cock swaying between his legs before he grasps it and tilts it towards your entrance. 
You lift your hips again, tilting them towards him for an easier angle- and immediately cry out when he broaches you, head pressing past your entrance. You’re so turned on and flushed wet that the initial slide in is easy, but as he gets deeper and deeper you can feel the stretch, your pussy forced open for him, feeling like you’re being split open with how big he is- you’ll feel the burn tomorrow, but right now your body is ripe and ready for him to take you, cunt clenching as he bottoms out in you. You experimentally tense your muscles and the two of you gasp in a breath, shocked pleasure at the sensation.
“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans. “You feel so good.”
He holds still for a moment to let you adjust, leaning down to kiss you. It’s deep and slow, tongue swiping into your mouth as you part your lips for him and let him take what he wants. When he leans back, all that softness is gone- your legs fall apart as he starts to fuck you, hips snapping forward as he ruthlessly presses his cock into you. He’s so big and he’s striking so deep it feels like you can feel him in your stomach, and you arch your back into him and cry out each time he strikes home.
The pace he sets is rough and aggressive, the slap of skin against skin and wet noises from his cock driving into your pussy filling the silence of the room, every part of you hypersensitive to every sensation- Namjoon’s weight pressing you into the mattress, the shaking bed, the rising smell of sweat and sex, the firmness of his hands on you. He leans back and you catch a glimpse of his hungry eyes before he puts his hands under your knees and hitches your legs up so that you’re practically bent in half when he fucks into you again- you cry out at the change of angle, how this lets him splay his large hand over the line of your hipbone as he starts to rub his thumb across your clit, continuing to fuck into the whole time.
“Gonna c-cum again,” you hiccup between thrusts, the air punched out of you each time that hot cock spears into you. “Joonie, gonna- gonna cum aga- oh!”
Your spine arches as your orgasm rips through you, coil of pleasure exploding like a firework as you cum for the second time that day, walls tensing around Namjoon’s cock; he continues to thrust into you, even when your cunt clenches so tight it feels like there’s no space inside you for his length. He keeps forcing your body open for him even as you keep falling apart around him, and you keep taking it, loving it. The only thing you can register is the delirious, mind-numbing satisfaction, sobbing out as Namjoon’s cock continues to fill you- you feel like he’s fucked you dumb, like your body was only made to be fucked by him, sloppy and open and wet. Each time he fills you up again it forces a noise from your throat, sounds of almost animalistic pleasure spilling from your lips, all semblance of coherent words gone.
When Namjoon pulls out of you, even though your body feels weak and limp and entirely fucked out, you whine at the loss. The next second, though, he flips you over, nudging your ankles apart before sliding back into you. The change of angle has him dragging against your sweet spot, balls slapping against your clit, overwhelming off the heels of just cumming, but you just take it, drooling into the pillow as your brain gives over to the all-consuming pleasure.
“So pretty when you cum around my cock.” Namjoon’s bent over you, murmuring praises that you barely register as he litters kisses over your shoulders and the side of your throat. “Greedy little pussy takes my cock so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Wanna be a good girl for you.” Your words are a slur, your brain foggy but eager to please, answering the question. “Joonie.”
“Gonna fill you up so good,” he says, lips pressed against your ear as he whispers filth to you, still mercilessly fucking into you. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with my cum. Do you want my cum, baby?”
“Wan’ it,” you moan. There’s heat curling in your abdomen again, pussy tightening as another orgasm creeps up on you, the promise of Namjoon’s hot cum filling you pulling you closer to the edge. “Want your cum, Joonie.”
His fingers tighten around your waist as he starts to jackhammer into you. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open even as his rhythm starts to falter, and after one particularly hard thrust your eyes roll back in your head as you tumble over the edge again, cumming so hard it’s a wonder you don’t pass out. You let out a strangled moan and Namjoon curses as you tighten around him, your entire body trembling under his hands as you give yourself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through you. 
His rhythm falters before he lets out a shout and his cock jerks inside you as your tightening cunt pulls him into climax. Hot cum fills your pussy as he empties himself inside you, aftershocks of your orgasm drawing his seed deeper, painting your insides. You lie there and take it, face turned into the pillow as you focus on the sensation of his twitching cock, the way your body is milking him even in your exhaustion, like it’s desperate to satisfy him even when you can barely speak.
You shiver when you feel him slowly pull out. He’s stroking his hands over your skin, kissing your shoulder blades and nape as he turns you over, gentle as he touches you. “You did so well,” Namjoon praises, smiling at you. “So good for me.”
You still feel fuzzy but you latch onto Namjoon’s words as he kisses you on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. Words seem so hard to string together right now but you try your best, voice small and weak. “Did good?”
“Absolutely perfect, baby,” Namjoon says, and you let out a happy sigh. You stay quiet while Namjoon slips out of your bed before returning with a damp cloth. You let your muscles go entirely lax as Namjoon rolls you onto your back and gently spreads your legs; he watches as his own cum drips out of you before he gently swipes the mix of cum that’s smeared across your pussy, mindful of your sensitive clit. You bask in his touch, feeling like a cat bathing in sunlight as he cleans you up, stroking his hands across your skin.
He gathers you in his arms and continues to murmur praises between kisses and touches. You slowly come back to yourself as he keeps lavishing attention on you, skin warm against his, turning into his touch as your brain starts to flicker back on. 
Namjoon brushes his lips against your forehead as your higher thought processes continue to fall back into place, although you’re still a little hazy. “You okay, sweetheart?” 
“Yeah.” You feel thoroughly fucked out after three back-to-back orgasms and your pussy feels raw and you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to walk in a straight line, but none of those things detract from how fabulous you feel right now. “More than okay. Wow. When I said I wanted you to wreck me, I didn’t realise you’d do such a good job.”
Namjoon smiles at you, and you finally get to indulge yourself, lifting a hand to stroke a finger across his dimples that deepen as you touch them. “I’m always happy to oblige,” he says, and you grin as you brush your nose across his neck, nuzzling into him.
“You really are the best neighbour,” you say. “Did you seriously come over to give me a bunch of hand picked strawberries? That’s what that bag was, right?”
“Of course.” Namjoon’s fingers continue to rub circles into your shoulder. “I thought you deserved a nice treat after a day of chores.”
“Oh, I feel very thoroughly rewarded,” you giggle, before pulling your head back to look Namjoon in the eye. “God. I was so mortified at the beginning, though. I seriously thought I was going to have to pack my bags and move away.”
“The strawberries wouldn’t be enough to persuade you to stay?” Namjoon strokes his knuckles down your cheek before resting his thumb under the swell of your bottom lip, pushing up a little so it looks like you’re pouting at him. “After I spent all afternoon picking them and thinking about you, and how lovely you’d look while you ate them with this pretty little mouth of yours?”
You relax into his touch, letting him rub the pad of his thumb over your lip, all but kissing his finger each time your mouth shapes itself around another word. “You think about me?”
“I thought it was obvious,” Namjoon says, stroking over your lip one last time before cupping your chin in his palm.  “I don’t genuinely lose my keys as often as you think I do. Though I do still lose them a lot,” he adds, a little sheepish, and you laugh.
“So you’re saying that if I give you a spare key to my flat, I should have back-ups on hand just in case?” You tease, leaning into the hand that’s cradling your chin. “Good to know.”
“A spare key?” Namjoon looks a little taken aback, and you blink at him.
“Yeah,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Y’know, unless you want me to go back to using the tumble dryer.”
The hand that’s been on your shoulder tightens a little as Namjoon digs his fingers into your skin, possessive. That part of you that’s gone belly up for him preens at the attention, still eager to please him and make him happy, loving the sensation of being so desired by someone who you thought was out of your reach. “No.” Namjoon’s voice is a rumble in his chest. “I’ll make you cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”
“Mm.” You hum quietly before kissing his cheek, and then Namjoon uses the hand under your chin to turn you towards him and presses his mouth softly to yours. “You might regret saying that. I’m very demanding. Starting with this- do you want to go get those strawberries so I can have a taste?” You flutter your lashes at him, and Namjoon chuckles as he indulges you. 
You watch the flex of muscles in his thighs and ass as he walks from the room, still in a bit of disbelief that you’ve touched him and kissed him and been so thoroughly fucked by him. Kim Namjoon is a ten course meal (not including drinks or dessert) but here he is, naked on your bed as he feeds you the sweet, ripe strawberries that he picked with his own hands, kissing the taste off your lips between each bite.
You feel utterly pampered and taken care of, reclining against the pillows as Namjoon feeds you another strawberry. You reach out for the largest you can see and return the favour, letting him lick the sweetness off your stained fingers and giggling at the sensation. 
“The dryer’s finished its cycle, by the way,” Namjoon says after he’s finished kissing your fingertips.
“That’s nice,” you say as you carefully pick out another strawberry and rest it against the dark red flush of Namjoon’s lips. “But I’m busy feeding the world’s most beautiful man right now, so it can wait.”
Namjoon smiles at you, eyes lovely and warm as he parts his lips to accept the fruit, before leaning down to press his berry stained mouth against your own.
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spencersawkward · 4 years
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switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 1
summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.
relationship: fem!OC/Spencer Reid
word count: 3.4k
hi all! welcome to my new story.
I've never written a baby Spence fic before, but I'm gonna try my best. I just wanted to get something out of the way before the book starts:
aside from the fact that it's young Spencer, this book isn't placed in a specific season. I might pull cases from different episodes, but the characters will remain the same. I've included Emily and Rossi as characters because I couldn't bear to have a story without either of them (wouldn't want to subject any of you to a Prentiss-less world).
that's pretty much it. I'm glad you're here. if you wanna read my other stories, my masterlist is here.
happy reading :)
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"HA!" I slap my hand down on the pile of cards and slide it towards me, organizing them in a neat pile with a smug expression.
"this game is a sham." Spencer sighs, reaching for his book.
"you're just mad you lost." I raise an eyebrow and shuffle the cards again. "you don't wanna play another round?"
"why would I? the only skill this game requires is fast reflexes." he runs hazel eyes down the page with an alarming quickness. I scoff at his disinterest.
"maybe if you trained those reflexes as much as you trained that big genius brain of yours, you'd get a leg up." Morgan teases from his spot next to me. Spencer glances at him with a frown, his cheeks turning a light pink, before looking to me. I throw up my hands.
"he said it, not me." secretly, I smile at the fact that Derek is backing me up.
"I could beat any of you in poker." Reid defends.
"easily. it helps that I don't even know how to play." I slide the cards back into the holder and cross my arms over my chest with a sigh.
"you don't know how to play poker?" he's shocked.
"I told you, I hate card games like that!" I emphasize. things like poker, blackjack, anything that involves multiple players, I usually don't enjoy much. Emily glances up from her case file with a tiny smirk.
"why?"
"I'm a sore loser." I admit, averting my eyes. there's also the risk factor involved, which includes giving up coins or pretzels or peanuts if I lose. I tend to cling tightly to all three. Prentiss lets out a laugh and Spencer flips the page of his book.
"and winner, apparently."
"you're sassy today, aren't you?" I grin at him, pleasantly surprised.
in the month I've been working here, I haven't spoken to Spencer very much. he's been polite and I've gotten to know his intellect quite well, but he doesn't spend a lot of time with us outside of work. when we go out to get drinks, he either declines or heads home before we can even ask, a bag full of books pressed to his side.
I think he just takes a while to get comfortable around new people-- that's what JJ said when I asked why he seemed to be avoiding me. the fact that he played cards with me today felt like a victory in itself, so I'll take what I can get.
Spencer doesn't reply to my dig, only crosses his long, narrow legs and settles into his book.
"we should start briefing before we land." Hotch and Rossi walk over from their spots at the front of the plane to sit on the couch by our table. I nod eagerly and watch as Emily flips open her laptop to FaceTime Penelope about the case.
the first couple cases were more difficult than I expected because I had never worked in the field before joining the BAU, but I'm starting to get used to flying around constantly and examining actual dead bodies. working sex crimes meant I spent most of my time in front of a computer screen or just staying in the office. this is incredibly different-- which I'm starting to find might not to be a bad thing.
"--the virus killed her hard drive and left that on the screen." Penelope explains, referring to the picture of Heather Woodland's computer.
"'for heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself'." Morgan reads the message aloud from the case file. the words feel familiar in my mind and I try to remember where I've heard them before.
"that's exactly what William Heirens left behind." Spencer sparks the memory. I sit up straighter.
"the Lipstick Killer?" my fingertips trace over the case details. it's a weird aspect of the murder to emulate, especially because he didn't even leave the message in lipstick. I guess he's not really concerned with that; based on the unsub's previous victims, we have just under 36 hours to find her.
"his first victim was Melissa Kirsh, 26," Reid scratches his nose as he reads, frowning so hard that I start to think he'll form permanent wrinkles. he's got such a baby face, it's almost funny. "stab wounds, strangulation."
"so he stabbed her first, and then strangled her to finish the job?" Morgan repeats.
"what's with using a belt for the second murder?" Emily flips through the papers, confused. Spencer stiffens in his spot as he realizes this is the perfect time to share his freakishly expansive forensic knowledge.
"strangulation with your bare hands actually isn't as easy as you would believe. he probably tried it, found that it took too long, then stabbed her. and blood takes a long time to clean, so he decided a belt would be more efficient."
"he's perfecting his method." I can't tear my eyes away from the photos, despite the roiling sensation they put in my stomach. even with the things I've already seen, I don't think I'll ever get over photographs like this.
"we'll be landing soon and then we're meeting up with the Seattle field office. be ready to split up once we hit the ground." Hotch snaps shut his case file and stands up, breaking off to go sit alone. Rossi takes note of the old card deck that sits on the table.
"poker?" he looks between the four of us.
"nope." Emily chuckles.
"this one doesn't know how to play." Morgan gestures to me, causing Rossi to turn to me.
"were you raised in a barn?" he asks in his usual manner of speaking: blunt sarcasm with a hint of mockery. I frown sarcastically.
"something like that."
"at some point this week, we'll sit down and I'll teach you." he gets up, pats my shoulder, and walks over to join Hotch. I lower my voice once he's far enough away.
"is he actually gonna make me do that?"
"you don't know Rossi." Morgan shakes his head slowly, slides his headphones back on, and sinks into his seat.
"I'll join and bring JJ with me." Emily winks at me reassuringly, noting the tapping of my nail against the surface of the table. Rossi is a legend in the field and I've read all of his books, but didn't want to freak him out by telling him so. it was embarrassing enough when I met him and got tongue-tied while shaking his hand. he's got an elusive energy that intimidates me, and I'd prefer not to showcase that by humiliating myself with poker.
instead of dwelling on thoughts of how I'm going to fail in front of my idol, I open up one of my books and try to pass the time.
...
while I'm writing some notes on one of the many white boards scattered throughout the field office, I realize that I'm one of four other women in the room, including Emily. she's talking to Hotch and another agent at the opposite end of the room; Reid is unpacking his signature book bag and seems deep in thought. Rossi is reading a document. everyone around me seems to be in a hurry to do something, and I begin to feel dumb.
"you okay?" Morgan asks me. I realize that I've been standing with my marker hovering over the board. my fingertips press into my temple before I turn to him.
"yeah, definitely. just thinking." my mind travels to the map we've got pasted up and the red marker lines that Spencer has already created with the geographical profile.
"looks like we're getting the classic Seattle treatment." Derek points outside to the rain pelting the windows, streaming down the glass and distorting the glow of the city outside. it's gloomy today, with a slight chill running through the streets. I nod and turn back to my task, suddenly realizing something.
"he's willing to travel with the body." I mutter to myself. Morgan steps up next to me, crosses his arms across his chest.
"he must drive a vehicle that can conceal one, then." he glances over to Hotch to see what the unit chief has to say, but Spencer speaks up first.
"one in seven point four drivers in Seattle owns an SUV." it's like a flip switches at the mention of a statistic, diverting his attention from something nebulous in his mind to the tangible case. he's a little similar to a robot.
"an Explorer with tinted windows?" Morgan speaks again as he looks over the case photos.
"those rate higher among women." Spencer again.
"sure, but how do we know it's his car?" I wonder.
"what about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch chimes in, almost startling me with the deep register of his voice. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I think on it.
"Jeeps are more masculine." Reid comes close to me in order to examine the picture I'm holding. he smells like clean laundry and some nice soap scent that I can't place. maybe it's the gel he uses to slick back his hair. no cologne or aftershave. I don't think he'd need to shave, what with his smooth baby face.
Spencer has some special quirks that make him a little more interesting. he usually avoids physical contact with other people-- doesn't shake hands-- but at other times, he doesn't seem to have self-awareness. like right now, where the shoulder of his red sweater is just barely touching mine. I hand him the picture and step away.
"unsubs love to assert their masculinity."
Hotch nods along, encouraging me to share more of what I'm thinking. after swallowing down a lingering nervousness, I tap the push pin marking where the last body was dumped. "he dropped her out-of-state, so he probably has a previous knowledge of law enforcement. maybe he's got a criminal record?"
"good, Williams." Hotch praises me. my fist clenches triumphantly at my side as he turns to the agent who has been watching us intently. "when do we meet with your task force?"
"four." the man replies. I balk at this, my posture shifting. the shortest time constraint I've ever had here has been a full day. it's already one in the afternoon.
"you want an accurate profile by four today?" I glance between Morgan and Spencer, but the latter is rocking back and forth on his heels with his eyes glued to the white board. Morgan doesn't seem put off by it.
"we can do that." Hotch scowls, snapping shut the case file with a finality that tells me we're about to split up. "Dave and Morgan, head to the last dump site. Williams, Reid, I want you to talk to Heather's brother and try to find out what you can about her life. Prentiss and I will stay here in case of new developments."
I nod curtly, grab my jacket, and glance over at Spencer. he runs his hand over his hair, although I can't imagine what there is to smooth down, then walks over to me.
"you ready to go?" I ask, brandishing the file. he and I have only done two interviews together; I spent most of my beginning weeks working with Emily to get a feel for the job. both times with the boy genius have been fine, if not a little awkward.
he nods in answer to my question. "would you mind driving?"
"no license?" I tease to lighten the mood, but he doesn't get the joke. instead, he frowns at me with something of a distracted expression, adjusts his bag.
"no, I don't like driving in the rain."
"oh," I recover quickly and put a friendly smile on my face. "no problem."
"thanks." he walks ahead of me and I cringe at my own behavior. he acts so differently from earlier on the jet that I start to wonder if I did something wrong. maybe he's just in his head or something; I know I would be if I had an IQ that enormous.
when we get to the house of Heather Woodland's brother, a gorgeous golden lab greets us in the entryway. she puts her paws up on my legs and I reach down to scratch behind her ears with a smile on my face.
"Sandy, calm down." her owner grabs her collar gently to calm her. "sorry."
"no, it's fine, I love dogs." I wave it off and step inside. Spencer is eyeing Sandy warily, but she seems just as eager to say hi to him as she was to me. when she lets out a singular, enthusiastic bark, he startles.
"Mr. Woodland," I suppress my laugh by changing the subject. "I'm Special Agent Williams and this is Special Agent Dr. Reid."
we shake hands, my colleague giving his usual wave and polite smile. the interviewee takes in Spencer's appearance. I know what's coming.
"you look too young for medical school." Woodland says to Reid. this has happened a couple times since I joined the team, but Spencer never seems to mind. if anything, he lights up at the opportunity to share the reason for his official title.
"they're PhD's. three of them." he gives a little smile as we walk into the house, me shaking a few stray raindrops from my hair.
"so... are you a genius or something?" Heather's brother leads us past the hallway into the living room, which is unkempt and littered with pictures, catalogs, and toys. he must have kids in school right now. that would also explain the breed of dog.
"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified."
"he's being modest," I glance over at Spencer. "Dr. Reid can read 20,000 words a minute-- he's definitely a genius."
Woodland stares at Spencer for a second as he tries to fathom the speed at which someone's mind would have to turn in order to process all that information. I still can't imagine it. Spencer's eyes avoid Woodland's shyly. instead, he watches me as I pet Sandy.
soon after, we ask him about Heather's personality and tendencies. her brother is more than willing to give us all the information we need. I'm surprised, however, by my partner's ease at wandering around Woodland's house, flipping through the magazines on top of the TV and reading the spines of books on shelves. he's quite conspicuous about it.
about halfway through my mental list of questions, Sandy keeps jumping up and wagging her til.
"I'm gonna take her to the backyard quick," Woodland tells us. "one second."
he ducks out of the room and I wait until I know he's out of earshot before sidling up beside Reid.
"there's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller," he tells me, holding up a Datsun Z catalog. we know that she was in the market for one. "if I want to coax a young woman into my car..."
"offer her a test drive." I finish his sentence. of course, within ten minutes of sifting through this woman's house, Spencer has figured out the ruse used to lure her. Woodland returns a moment later with a smile, but we tell him that we've gotten the information we need before leaving.
in the car, Spencer theorizes about the unsub's mental condition as I try to navigate traffic in the storm. thunder rumbles overhead, occasionally sending a vibration through the car. my knuckles tighten around the wheel a bit. I also hate driving in the rain. his rambles fills the silence, however, and somewhat soothe my nerves.
"he doesn't have the MO of a paranoid psychotic. dumping the bodies out in the open, with a weapon nearby... that doesn't align."
"he covers their eyes with duct tape multiple times over, though. he knows he's going to kill them, but he doesn't want them to see his face?" my fingertips drum over the wheel nervously.
"what's wrong?" Spencer asks suddenly, glancing at my hands and then at my face. I still my movements at the change in subject.
"huh? nothing. I just don't like driving in the rain, either."
"oh. I'm sorry." he straightens a bit in his seat. the apology surprises me a little, but he seems genuinely sympathetic. I guess I really don't know him that well.
"it's cool."
we fall into an awkward silence and I bite my lip. we should get back to talking about the case. heaven knows Spencer has more facts to spew, more theories to share about this unsub. anything is better than the gap in conversation. I open my mouth to say more about what we learned at the house, except Spencer speaks first.
"so... how are you liking working here?" he asks awkwardly. it takes a second for the question to register with me. he sounds uncomfortable whenever we're alone and that makes me uncomfortable in turn. where everyone else was quick to include me in their jokes and discussions, Reid always sounds like talking to me exhausts him. it's obvious that he's socially awkward. there's no judgement from me; I'm just surprised that he's pushing to talk about non work-related subjects.
"I like it," not really an accurate summation. I don't think a heart-to-heart is exactly the right move when talking to him. "a little stressful, though."
"you worked in sex crimes before, right?" he looks out the window. there isn't much to see except for the rain-blurred skyline. I nod.
"yep."
"that sounds... hard." he shifts in his seat as he tries to come up with more points of conversation. it's kind of endearing, honestly. I throw him a bone.
"so is profiling."
"why'd you switch?" his eyes flit over to mine as he quickly adds, "if you don't mind me asking."
I take a second to come up with an answer. of course, there's the classic response: I've always wanted to help people— which isn't wrong— it's also not the whole answer. all through college and the Academy, I had my head focused on one thing. I could interview killers and get inside their heads, but there's something entirely different that you don't get from pure research. and one person inspired that in me before I had finished high school.
"don't tell him I said this, but I really wanted to work with Rossi." I say in a hushed tone. there's a slight smile on my lips because I haven't told anyone on the team in fear of being teased. I don't think Spencer is likely to gossip with Rossi about me, though.
"really?" now he sounds surprised.
"I've read all his books and I've been to a couple lectures. he doesn't remember me, evidently." the thought is more funny than embarrassing. he spoke at my college a few years back and I recall being on the edge of my seat, trying to come up with the courage to ask the questions that filled my head. I was too shy.
"does he know you're a fan?" Spencer loosens up a bit.
"nope," we pull off the freeway as we near the field office. I stop at a red light and look over. "I didn't want to embarrass myself with the whole 'your work changed my life' spiel."
at this, Spencer lets out a short, nervous giggle. it's a nice sound, that laugh. it makes me smile when he seems to relax in his seat.
"that's exactly what I did." he says. I frown.
"you told him his books changed your life?" I blush as I realize I just inadvertently made fun of him.
"I, um... well, I got excited to talk about his research." he averts his gaze again and his cheeks turn a slight pink. there's a dimple in his cheek, I notice, that keeps tugging upward. this is my first time having a non-forced moment with Spencer alone; a wave of satisfaction washes over me as I realize the potential for another friend here.
"trust me, I get it." I laugh. we pull into the parking ramp for the field office and I find a spot by the door. Spencer hoists that bag into his lap and runs his hand through his hair. when I pull the key out of the ignition, he waits for me to get out of the car before we start walking toward the door.
it's small, but I appreciate that he doesn't run off without me. we don't talk as we walk, our footsteps echoing along the cement walls.
oh my god first chapter holy fuck! it's short, but I don't wanna overwhelm. I'm so excited for this book!
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minsugapie · 5 years
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The Eve: part 2 (2032 words) - Tom was right
• • • • • •
Lumi is down on her luck. After graduating university with a business degree, she has yet to secure a career in that path, reluctantly working and living at an old motel instead.
Kim Jongin is on the run. He’s been framed for embezzlement, and someone faked his death while he was out of town. With only a handful of bills and a false identity, he had been only able to survive for so long until breaking down in front of an old motel, hoping that whoever found him wouldn’t report him to the authorities.  
• • • • • •
prev // current // next
masterlist
• • • • • •
YAY! the day has finally arrived then i feel like writing again! i honestly don’t even know what got over me, but i hope this feeling sticks around bc it’s wonderful. Anyways, please enjoy...
• • • • • •
Before heading out to do the laundry, Lumi knew she should at least clean up some of the cuts on his skin. Jongin’s face held less harsh lines, even though his fists were holding the blankets up to his neck to keep himself warm. She should have realized that her leaving the covers would have taken away some of the heat that he’d needed. It was one thing to make him warm…the other was to make sure he stayed warm.
She felt awful as she took the blankets off of him, so she turned the heat up a little more, leaving herself in only a t-shirt. It was too hot for her, but this wasn’t about her right then. His hands didn’t want to let go of the blankets, and she only managed to listen the grip when she softly pried his fingers away from them. His body flinched initially when her fingers touched his, but what was actually surprised her was how his fingers had instantly gone from clutching the blanket to wrapping around her own. She didn’t want to let go of them, but she needed both her inexperienced hands to feign being a nurse. 
Taking out the medical kit from the paper grocery bag, she assessed what needed attention then and what was fine for now. Goosebumps arose all over his chest and those when she stated cleaning a particularly nasty cut stretching across his collarbone to his pec. 
“I know it stings and it’s cold,” she gently whispered, quickly putting her hand up to his forehead to check his temperature out of reflex, “but it’ll be over soon and you can go back to being warm.”
It took her a little over half an hour to successfully clean the wounds he had received from whatever fight he had gotten into, with the occasional whimper or flinch from Jongin, but she was relieved when she realized that nothing was bad enough to need legitimate medical attention.
When she finally put the covers back, she leaned over him to make sure that everything was tucked in and warm, her hair fell over her shoulder and onto his face without he realizing. She backed away, after swearing that she had seen his eye flicker open. She must have been dreaming because he was unconscious and could barely move. 
Whispering to him once again as she fixed a strand of his hair that fell into his eyes, she said, “I’ll be back soon, okay? I can’t have you dying on my watch.”
• • • • • •
Lumi felt guilty leaving him there all by himself again, especially when it was her day off, but she needed to do her own laundry and clean his clothes, too. Who knew when the last time he cleaned them was? 
Judging by ‘byun’ on his phone, he was down on his luck. Lumi checked to see if there were previous messages from the person, but there were none. There was also no password on the phone, nor were there any other apps besides messages and the default apps that weren’t able to be deleted.  
He was a man on the run, so she guessed it made sense that he kept himself as low-key as physically possible. 
She was thankful that the laundromat was empty today, save two people that were always there when she was. One of them was the worker and the other was Jamie, a man that unfortunately had the same work schedule as her. If anyone in this town was suitable for Lumi, it might have been Jamie, at least Tom thought so. 
“Morning, Jamie,” Lumi smiled, taking over her usual washing machine. She began to throw the clothes into the machine when she felt his presence beside her. 
“You dropped this,” he said, picking up a large men’s flannel. Lumi knew he was going to say something, so she thought of what to say before he was even able to ask it. “Why are you washing a bunch of men’s clothes?” 
“Um, they’re mine,” she ended up blurting, grabbing it from his hand and stuffing it into the machine. All her clothes were thrown on top of it. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Actually, it’s the style nowadays to wear baggy men’s clothes.”
“But I’ve never seen you wear it, and it looks worn,” he pushed. She knew that Jamie didn’t mean anything by it, but she was nervous. Obviously, since she was balancing on the tight rope of the law at this point. 
Byun had told Lumi to be careful and that it was dangerous, so she absolutely had to keep Jongin a secret. 
“They were left behind by someone at the motel, and I was going to take them. It’s winter now, so the more layers, the better, you know?” She smiled, trying to show off the little charm she had. She did know that Jamie thought she was pretty. It seemed to work on him as he nodded his head and backed away. 
“I guess that makes sense,” he concluded, going to put his own clothes into the dryer. Because she’d already done a few things this morning, she was later than usual. Actually, it was almost a blessing because he’d be out of there faster than usual, deceasing the amount of time they’d actually have to spend together. 
Lumi breathed a sigh of relief before putting in her headphones and pretending that she didn’t know Jamie as she waited for the laundry to be done. 
Something finally worked out in her favour because Jamie didn’t talk to her again, and she was able to finish the laundry in peace. When she was finally able to head back to the motel, she began to get nervous. What if he’d left? 
But then she remembered that she left him there in his underwear, and she had all his clothes. The very thought made her smile. The situation was kind of funny. Never did she think she’d see a shirtless Jongin that close, let alone have him unknowingly trust her with his life. Yet she remembered that he might have died last night if it hadn’t been for her. 
She ran to her room when it came into sight, being as quiet as she could when she closed the door. Jongin was still sleeping, so she set to work putting her clothes away and made sure to fold his for him. When she picked up a few pairs of underwear, she couldn’t help but blush. He’d worn them. The man of every one of her fantasies had worn those pairs of underwear, and here she was in the same room as him. 
Her life was just beginning to get interesting. 
She noticed the note was in his hand, so he must have woken up, at least for a moment. She stood up and went to him to check if he was still warm enough. She lightly touched his face with her fingers and then felt his chest to see how cold it was. He was warm, colour back in his face and lips. 
All of a sudden, a hand roughly grabbed her throat, surprising her. 
Jongin’s eyes shot open, and he looked at her, sitting up. Lumi was speechless, not only because his hand was choking her, but also because she’d never heard of him having an aggressive side like this. 
Her brow was furrowed as she hastily grabbed and clawed at his arm to let her go. It was no use, however, because he was so much stronger than she was. 
She shook her head as much as possible, pleading mentally for him to let her go. She was going to pass out any second from lack of oxygen. “I didn’t…call…the police,” she struggled so much that she wasn’t sure he was even able to understand. 
When he let go, she fell to the floor, clutching at her throat. There were surely going to be bruises. 
He stared at her few a few moments, probably trying to figure her out as she coughed, obviously struggling to regain her breath. He scratched his chest and then realized that there weren’t any clothes there. He pulled the blanket up to his neck and narrowed his eyes at her. He quickly looked under the blanket to check if he had on any underwear.
She coughed again, still trying to clear her throat after what he’d done to her. She slowly started shuffling backward and away from him. Never once did she think he would do something like that to someone who had saved him. 
Then again, he was probably just as scared as she was in this situation. She realized too that he had been completely out of it when she brought him in. He couldn’t have known who she was. 
She shook her head crazily as she tried to get her voice to work again. He couldn’t think that she took advantage of him. “I cleaned them!” She pointed at the pile of folded clothes at the end of the bed. He looked at them before looking back at her. 
There was an expression of curiosity on his face as he took her in more. His stare bore into hers like nothing she’d ever felt before. 
“Please, just drink some water and eat something,” she pleaded, getting a piece of bread and putting it in front of him with a banana. “I’ll explain when you’re healthy again.”
He stared at the items in front of him before picking them up and eating them hungrily. She read that it was important not to feed someone too much to begin with otherwise they could get sick. 
When he was done eating, he took another full water bottle and laid back on the bed. He stared at her as she sat on the chair across the room, watching him. He was different from what she’d imagined. He was calmer and spoke a lot less. He actually seemed reserved –unlike most businessmen that she’d met.
• • • • • •
Jongin was curious about her. She hadn’t called the police on him. She washed his clothes. She even fed him. And he’d almost killed her. 
He hadn’t meant to be so aggressive, but he was scared. The last thing he remembered was wandering along the highway, looking for a place to take refuge. 
There was one other thing he remembered. He didn’t know if it was a memory or if it was just conjured up in his mind. 
It was a woman, platinum blonde hair and pale skin, telling him to drink and again leaning over his frame. It was definitely a memory because as he thought of it now, the person that had pleaded with him to get better was the woman sitting in the chair across the room from him. 
She looked and acted like an angel, and he nearly killed her, most likely bruising the pale skin of her throat. She was a literal saviour.
But why would she want to save him? It might have been better for everyone if he had he simply died. 
• • • • • •
When Jongin finally fell asleep again, Lumi went to the bathroom to look at her reflection. She was right, her neck was bruising. There were purple fingerprints on her skin, reminding her of how stupid this situation was. Tom was right. 
How could she have just trusted him? He really could have killed those people and embezzled all that money. She had no idea who he really was. 
Taking a deep breath, she vowed that she would learn his side of the story. 
As she continued to stare at the bruises on her neck, her mind wandered back to the text messages. Byun had said that he was sure it was a guy named D.O. Could they have been talking about the crimes? It couldn’t have been anything else; it was too much of a coincidence. 
Throwing on a scarf to cover her neck, she locked the door once again and made her way to the diner to have some dinner. She’d have to bring a lot of leftovers home, so it wouldn’t be just salad for her tonight. 
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inyournightmares97 · 5 years
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Chocolate Eyes
You return home to find that the man you once loved has become a violent criminal, your mother is sick and your beloved little brother hates you. It’s hard to decide what is right and wrong. But at the end of day, we’re all just trying to protect the people we love. 
Word Count: 19.5k 
Warnings: Language, angst, dark topics. The reader has dark brown eyes since this is a birthday gift for Aia, but as always there are no other physical descriptions. (This is a revamp/continuation of a fic I abandoned for another group long ago. That one was barely 8k though lol.) 
Note: Happy Birthday, Aia! This is a birthday present for @ijustwantacue although I don’t know how appropriate it is since it’s filled to the brim with angst lol. I still hope that you enjoy it and have a great day! 
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“Homework?” you asked cheerfully, tapping on Jaebum’s desk.
The handsome boy had a large pair of headphones over his ears and his eyes were closed as he bounced his head to the music. He hadn’t noticed you tapping on the desk. It was only when you poked Jaebum’s shoulder that he opened his eyes and reluctantly pulled the headphones down to rest around his neck.
“Huh?” he asked.
You smiled at him playfully. “Homework, genius. I’ve called you five times now. Please tell me you did it.”
Jaebum raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Why? Want to copy off me?”
“Fat chance. I did my own homework. I just wanted to cross check my answers because Mrs. Lee said she’s grading the assignment. But if you haven’t even done it…” you trailed off, giving him a smug look.
You couldn’t wait to hear Jaebum admit that he hadn’t done his homework.  The two of you were the smartest students in the class. Admittedly, Jaebum’s intelligence was of a more natural and God-given nature while you worked much harder for your own grades. Both of you still maintained a friendly competition.
“I did do it,” Jaebum replied. He pulled out a slightly crumpled folder from his bag and handed it to you. Then he leaned forward to watch while your sharp eyes flitted across his homework. “Noticed what you did wrong, yet?” he teased.
You stuck your tongue out at him. “We have the same answers, idiot. Although… wait, what’s this?”
Jaebum cleared his throat and covered a page filled with messy scribbles. “Ah- sorry, that’s not part of the homework. I was just writing down ideas for some music I’m trying to compose. There’s an underground dance battle behind the railway tracks. Jackson Wang keeps challenging me. I’m planning to whoop his ass.”
You handed the homework file back to him. “Well, I don’t know much about dance but you should probably write your ideas down more neatly so that you can actually make sense of them later. Besides. What does it matter? Hip-hop music all sounds the same.”
You knew that Jaebum was an amazing dancer and b-boy. He often performed during school talent shows and other events. He was incredibly talented, the entire school knew this, but you’d never really seen him in his element at the underground battles.
Jaebum rolled his eyes. “You just don’t understand hip-hop music.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
“It’s really amazing. The beats, the music and the dance all come together like magic. You should come watch one of the underground battles. Do you want to come with me today? It’ll be a great time.”
You hesitated. Part of you really wanted to go with Jaebum. He was interesting and funny so you loved spending time with him. As much as you hated to admit it, you had a huge crush on your handsome classmate. But you had never been to anything like an underground rap battle before and the idea scared you a little.
“I don’t know…” you trailed off.
“You don’t have to,” Jaebum reassured you.
“It just sounds kind of scary.”
He chuckled. “It’s not. I mean, it’s technically illegal but… the guys there are friendly and everything. It’s not the mess of drunken rowdiness you’re probably imagining. Most of those guys are really talented; and there are girls too. You should see this girl called Momo, they say she’s the queen-“
“I wasn’t imagining drunk rowdiness!” you protested, flushing.
Jaebum grinned, his rare and handsome smile leaving you speechless. “Yeah, right. Come on. One time? I promise I’ll stay beside you the entire time.”
You bit your lip and then nodded. “Okay.”
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You hitched your backpack up on your shoulder as you approached the house.
It had only been two years since you’d last been home. Somehow, the rickety house looked older and more dilapidated than ever. Paint was peeling off the outer walls and there was dirt everywhere. Your throat clenched uncomfortably.
What happened to this place? It looked almost uninhabited. Your hands trembled as you pushed open the slightly rusting gate and stepped onto the front porch.
“Mom? Are you here?” you called out. The front door was unlocked and you entered the messy and silent house. The living room had a stale and dusty smell. You hurried further inside to find your mother in her bedroom. The older woman was lying back in bed with the covers tucked firmly around her chest.
You breathed a sigh of relief. “Mom! I’m home!” you announced with a teary-eyed laugh.
Your mother smiled at you weakly. “Ah, darling. I was waiting for you. I’m sorry I can’t get up. I have a bit of a fever…” she apologized while she hugged you back gently. Her arms felt surprisingly frail and her grip around you was weak. “How are you, darling? How’s college going for you?”
You smiled. “It’s going fine.”
“You’re not struggling too much, are you?” she pressed.
“I’m fine,” you reassured her. You glanced around the room. It wasn’t very clean and you wondered how your ordinarily picky mother had allowed the house to fall into such a condition. You looked down at your sunken-eyed mother and gave her a small smile. Never mind. It wasn’t the time to get into such things. You could do a little bit of cleaning around the house if your mother was ill. 
“Have you eaten? Should I make dinner?” you offered.
“No, darling, you don’t have to cook-“
“I don’t mind. You rest. I’ll get started on dinner.”
You dropped your bags on the bedroom floor and then hurried into the kitchen. The refrigerator was making an odd noise but you pulled it open anyway and frowned. There wasn’t much in here for you to work with. You managed to lay your hands on some meat in the freezer rack and flipped it over to check an expiration date.
“Mom, where’s Yugyeom?” you called out loudly. “Is he still at school? Shouldn’t he have a holiday today?”
Your mother’s weak voice replied from the bedroom. “I don’t know darling. He’s usually not home at this time.”
“I messaged the idiot to pick me up at the station but he never came. I had to take the bus all the way back here with my luggage,” you complained.
You pulled your cell-phone out of your pocket and dialed your younger brother’s number, waiting as the phone rang repeatedly. There was no response. You put the phone back while you set the frozen meat on the counter.
Idiot. Where could Yugyeom have gone when he knew I was coming home today?   
You finished making dinner and called Yugyeom a few more times while you unpacked in your old bedroom. There was a lot of dust everywhere. You ended up having to clean most of the first floor in the process. How had your mother and brother allowed the house to get so messy? You collected an enormous pile of dirty laundry that you would have to do before you went to bed tonight. They were so careless.
It was slowly getting dark and Yugyeom still wasn’t home. Your mother didn’t seem worried so you decided not to comment on your brother’s absence. All the same, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt. What was more important to Yugyeom than his sister who hadn’t been home in about two years? Couldn’t he even come and say hello to you?
“Was it tasty?” you asked your mother as you watched her eat the soup. “My roommate is from Busan and she taught me the recipe. You can make it with almost no ingredients. It’s nice, right?”
Your mother smiled gently. “It’s wonderful, dear.”
“Does Yugyeom not turn up for dinner often? I made enough for him. He used to love my cooking.”
“He stays out late with some friends of his,” your mother replied with a light hum as she spooned more soup into her mouth. She gave you a weak smile. “He’ll be fine. They’re nice boys.”
You nodded, resisting the urge to yawn. It had been a long day and you had been travelling for most of the morning, not to mention you’d cleaned the entire house and cooked. You were dying to go to bed. On your way upstairs you glanced at the clock.
It was almost 11 pm. Surely Yugyeom wouldn’t come home at this time? Maybe he was going to spend the night with a friend.
You hesitated for a short moment before locking up the house and going to bed.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
You found yourself sticking close to Jaebum as you both  approached the old, abandoned railway tracks. The underground dance battles apparently weren’t physically underground (you had honestly imagined a dilapidated old subway station or something along those lines) but they were actually held out in the open behind the old railway tracks that had long been out of service.
There were a lot of people around. some of them looked perfectly normal like you and Jaebum, while others were a little more intimidating.
“See?” Jaebum asked, leaning down to speak to you. He let you hold on to his arm without commenting on how tight your grip was. “Not scary, right?”
“I guess not,” you admitted as you watched some dude set up speakers and microphones on the makeshift stage. The dance battles were often followed by hip-hop music and rap battles. “You don’t have permission to use this space, right?””
“Of course we don’t. It’s trespassing.”
“So what if the police come? Then what do we do?”
Jaebum gave you a cheeky grin and leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“...We run for it.”
His husky whisper sent a shiver down your spine. You had to try not to blush. Instead, you reached out and smacked his shoulder. Jaebum only laughed playfully and dodged your hit before reaching for your hand and pulling you further into the crowd.
“Come on, we should go find some friendly faces. My friends are over there, I’ll introduce you; Jackson Wang! Park Jinyoung!” he yelled out loudly.
A pair of guys waved at him and you followed Jaebum silently. You hadn’t been sure what his friends would be like, but they both appeared to be perfectly normal. Well, perhaps not completely. Jinyoung looked normal. Jackson Wang was extremely muscular and had a slightly stupid grin on his face as soon as he spotted you and Jaebum.
“JB! Hey, what took you so long? I told you some of the older guys were performing today, you totally missed them!”
Jaebum chuckled. “Sorry, man.”
“JB?” you wondered quietly. Jaebum turned to glance at you and his cheeks turned slightly pink at the way your head tilted curiously. “Who’s JB?”
“Uh, it’s my b-boy name,” he muttered. “Short for Jaebum, you know.”
You couldn’t help but let out a snigger. You had never heard anything less creative.
“JB?” you demanded. “Who’s genius idea was that? Couldn’t you have come up with something more unique?”
Jinyoung smiled and reached out to shake your hand in a friendly manner. “Hey, I like her. She has the right attitude for this place. Nice to meet you, I’m Jinyoung and this is Jackson but he likes to go by J-Flawless around here. Are you a dancer too?” he asked curiously.
You flushed. “What? Oh no, I can’t dance at all. I’m just here to watch.”
“She’s my classmate,” Jaebum explained lightly. He suddenly remembered that he was holding your hand and tried to drop it casually, but Jinyoung’s sharp eyes missed nothing. The man blinked in a slightly confused manner before narrowing down on your face. You felt almost naked as Jinyoung's sharp eyes scanned you.  After a few seconds, he let out a small cackle of laughter.
“Oh my God! Jaebum, you can’t be serious!” Jinyoung cried. “This is Chocolate Eyes, isn’t it?”
Jaebum flushed. “Shut up.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t performed it for her!” Jackson pressed with a cheerful grin. You blinked at Jackson when he turned to you firmly. “Haven’t you heard Jaebum’s Chocolate Eyes song?” he demanded.
You glanced at Jaebum uncertainly. “Uh…. I haven’t heard a lot of his songs to be honest… what’s so special about Chocolate Eyes?”
“It’s probably the cheesiest shit he’s ever written. Which is a lot because most of his lyrics are ‘fuck the society’ or innuendos about the size of his dick. Except you see, this one is about a girl with chocolate-colored eyes and the lyrics are literally twenty or so lines about how pretty the color of this girl’s eyes are so it’s some embarrassing shit.” He turned and grinned at Jaebum. “I would have thought you would-“
“Hey! Would you look at that? Someone is going on stage!” Jaebum cut him off quickly.
You had to admit that the dance battles were a lot of fun. It was loud and the crowd went wild with each dazzling move, especially when the more experienced dancers went up on stage. You had been waiting for Jaebum to go up as well, but he shyly admitted to you that he wasn’t really prepared to go on stage that day and that he’d perform some other time.
You also found that Jinyoung and Jackson (or J-Flawless, as he requested you call him during dance battles) were a lot of fun. Jinyoung was a little cheeky and kept addressing you  as Chocolate Eyes which left you a little flustered, but Jackson was extremely nice and friendly and kept talking to you. By the time you realized that it was past your curfew, you almost didn’t want to leave.
“It wasn’t as scary as you thought, right?” Jaebum asked as you both walked back after the event.
It was past your curfew but you’d called your little brother and told him to cover for you with your parents. Yugyeom had whined about being asked to do such a thing. Still, he eventually agreed to lie on your behalf.
It was dark as you walked back, and the street was relatively quiet.
“It was really interesting,” you admitted shyly. “I never knew hip-hop and dance could be so cool. And your friends were really fun. I don’t get why Jinyoung kept calling me Chocolate Eyes, though… and whatever he said about a song you wrote…” you trailed off, hoping he would explain it to you.
Jaebum flushed and he shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared down at the ground. “I-uh- it’s just a stupid song that I wrote. I wanted to try writing something romantic for once to challenge myself, so… I guess I just looked for inspiration wherever I could find it.”
“Will you show it to me?” you asked.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
He took a deep breath and turned to look at you with a sudden intensity that made your spine tingle.
”Because Jinyoung is right. Chocolate Eyes is about you.”
There was a brief pause before you both stopped walking and turned to look at each other. Jaebum was looking down at you so gently. He lifted a hand and gently stroked the side of your face with a rough thumb as his lips curved into a shy smile.
“Your eyes really are the color of dark chocolate,” he explained quietly. “And I kept thinking about how beautiful they are and how much I like when you look at me like that.”
Your breath hitched. “Like what?” you whispered.
“That.” He leaned down and kissed you, your lips pressing together sweetly and hesitantly. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down closer so you could kiss him harder. Something about the sudden embrace was both exciting and still safe. Jaebum always made you feel safe.
The two of you pulled away breathlessly after a few moments, foreheads still pressed together.
“But the lyrics are complete shit because I couldn’t find the right words for them. I couldn’t find the right words for you,” Jaebum whispered against your lips.  
“Words are overrated anyway.”
He chuckled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Kiss me again.”
When you finally managed to pull yourself away from Jaebum and climb into your room through the window, your head was spinning giddily. You had never been as crazy about a guy as you were about Jaebum. You were so busy smiling to yourself stupidly that you almost didn’t notice the boy sitting on your bed.
Yugyeom, had been waiting up for you while clutching his stuffed animal. Really, he was in middle school. He was too old for stuffed animals but Yugyeom had always been a child.
“Noona!” he greeted happily.
You jumped at the sound of his voice. “Hey. You scared me. What are you still doing up? Go to bed.”
“Noona, I covered for you with mom and dad. Aren’t you grateful?” Yugyeom pouted. His mouth spread into a cheeky and lopsided grin as he beamed up at you. “Where did you go, noona? Were you on a date with your boyfriend?” he teased.
You blushed. “Shut up.”
“You were?”
“Nope.” You lowered your voice and shut the bedroom door before beaming at your little brother. “You’ll never guess where noona was today. I went to go see an underground dance battle!”
Yugyeom’s eyes shimmered with excitement. “Wow! What’s that?”
“Go brush your teeth, get under the covers, and I’ll tell you all about it…”
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Somebody started pounding on the door at 2 am.
You awoke suddenly from a deep sleep to the banging noise and your eyes shot open. Who was at the door at this time of night? Heartbeat thudding and adrenaline pumping through you, you paused to grab a knife from the kitchen before slowly approaching the shaking door. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to think straight.
“Who is it?” you yelled over the banging.
The banging stopped.
“Noona?” Yugyeom’s voice demanded through the door. It was much deeper than you remembered but it was still unmistakably your little brother. Relieved, you let the kitchen knife fall to your side. Yugyeom sounded annoyed and banged a couple more times. “Fuck, noona, why did you lock the door? Open up!”  
You hurried to remove the deadbolts and swung the door open. Part of you was positive that Yugyeom must be drunk; he probably went out drinking with his friends, why else would he come back home at this absurd hour and make such a scene? You couldn’t believe that your innocent little brother was drinking underage. You were just getting ready to scold him when your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you saw what was in front of you properly.
There were two men on the porch. Both were tall but Yugyeom was more so. Your brother was clutching onto the shorter man as if he couldn’t stand properly, half bent over while bruises littered his pale skin. Yugyeom’s lip was bleeding and swollen and there was a large graze on his forehead that was dripping blood down the side of his face. He looked like he’d been in a fight.
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Oh my God-“ you could barely form words on your lips as Yugyeom silently limped into the front hall and turned on the light. There was blood on his clothes. He dropped a tattered backpack in the hallway as he sat down to take off his shoes. “Yugyeom-“
Yugyeom barely looked at you. “Welcome home, noona. Don’t lock the door at night next time.”
Your felt nauseous as you whirled around to look at the other man that was waiting in the doorway. It had been two years since you had last seen him, but you recognized Lim Jaebum immediately. He looked almost the same. Tall, broad shoulders and a sharp angular face. His dark eyes were as intense as ever.
Your blood ran cold.
“Lim Jaebum,” you greeted quietly.
Jaebum looked equally surprised to see you and his mouth fell open for a brief moment before he quickly closed it. You could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as he whispered a gruff response.
“Uh-hi. Welcome back.”
“What the fuck did you do to my brother?” you demanded, feeling your heartbeat race at the sight of a bloodied and bruised Yugyeom sitting on the floor and taking off his dirty sneakers. You whirled around and glared at Jaebum. “How dare you lay your hands on my brother-“
Yugyeom scoffed from his place on the floor. “Don’t be stupid, noona, Jaebum-hyung didn’t beat me up. He brought me back here safely.”
“You shut your mouth, Kim Yugyeom, I’ll deal with you later,” you hissed. Your insides were twisting and turning. What had been happening here while you were gone? Your worst nightmares were coming true and as you looked up at Lim Jaebum, you felt nothing but pure and adulterated anger. He was to blame. He was the one who’d gotten your brother involved in something ugly, you just knew it.
“Get out of my house,” you told Jaebum firmly.
Yugyeom glared at you. “Don’t talk to hyung like that-“
“Get out of my house, Lim Jaebum, and stay the hell away from my family.”
“Hyung, you don’t have to leave-“
Jaebum cut Yugyeom off and gave you a small, polite bow. “It’s fine. I should go. Clean yourself up properly, Yugyeom. I’ll be leaving now.”
He turned around and walked away, not even flinching when you slammed the door shut after him. You locked the deadbolts to be safe and then ran your fingers through your hair as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. Then you turned to look at Yugyeom.
He was getting up from the floor while glaring at you. Your head spun. Where was your adorable younger brother with the cheeky grin? You didn’t know this strange man standing in front of you and that scared you.
“You shouldn’t have talked to Jaebum-hyung like that,” Yugyeom said coldly.
You stiffened. “Since when is Lim Jaebum your hyung?”
“Since you left.”
“I went to college,” you hissed.
“Well, I hope you had a nice time there,” Yugyeom scoffed before turning around to limp away. He was headed towards the stairs and you called after him angrily.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet. Sit down here so I can clean you up and we can talk about whatever the hell is going on,” you ordered firmly. There was no way you could let Yugyeom get away with this sort of behaviour. This wasn’t how either of you had been raised. “Do you come home like this often? Do you let our mother see you this way? Does she know that you’re buddies with Lim Jaebum?”
Yugyeom turned and gave you a cold, empty look.
“I can clean up after myself,” he replied dully. “I’ve been doing it for the past year. And as for our mother…In case you haven’t noticed yet, she’s dying.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the beginning of your senior year when your father died.
Your mother spent an entire week at home without food, sobbing her eyes out and completely cut off from the world. Yugyeom was too innocent to understand what was going on and he would sit in his mother’s lap and cry along with her, clutching his stuffed animals. You had been left alone; alone to manage the household, alone to comfort your remaining family members, alone to finish your studies.
“My dear,” you teacher said to you quietly, when you turned up to school a mere three days after your father’s death. “You don’t need to come into school yet. Stay with your family. Take a year off if you need to. It’s all right.”
You had stiffened. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly. “I want to graduate this year.”
The only person you allowed yourself to cry in front of was Jaebum. He would come find you every day and you would let yourself break down in front of him, clutching his shirt as you sobbed into his chest and let out all your frustrations. Your father hadn’t just left your family; he had left behind debt and the moneylenders had started sending you messages. You had no idea how to repay them. One of the moneylenders in particular had been sending threatening messages and had even sent goons to your door to frighten you.
“I’m scared,” you sobbed into Jaebum’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. It was the only place you ever felt safe anymore. “I-I can barely make ends meet with my part time job. Yugyeom had to start working too. How am I going to pay back that money, Jaebum? How am I going to protect my family?”
Jaebum rubbed your back gently as he pressed his face against your hair. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised you quietly. “Baby, I’ll make sure they don’t hurt you. Listen to me. You are going to be fine.”
“I can’t- I can’t handle this, I can’t do it alone-“ you whimpered.
“You’re not alone. I’m here.”
“What are you going to do, Jaebum? What can you possibly do?”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
You fended off the moneylenders with vague promises of paying them back in a few years with interest, although you had no idea how you were going to manage it all. Instead, you dove into your academics. The only way you could ever pay that sort of money back was if you finished her education and got a proper job.
Part-time employment in the local restaurant wouldn’t cut it. You would be in debt for the rest of her life, if you went down that path. You needed to graduate, take out a student loan to go to college and earn a salary figure with a lot of zeros in it. That was the only way you would ever be able to take care of your family.
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You couldn’t sleep.
You kept tossing and turning in bed, nightmares from the past plaguing you and causing you to wake up in a cold sweat. You finally forced yourself out of bed at dawn and stumbled around the house sleepily. You carefully approached Yugyeom’s room. He had left his door slightly ajar and the sound of his deep snoring drifted out.
You stood there silently for a moment before slowly walking in. Yugyeom was spread across his bed in a clumsy manner, one long leg hanging off the single bed that was now too small for him. He hadn’t cleaned himself up. Dried blood crusted around his lips and forehead. You quietly grabbed a blanket and spread it over your brother before stepping out of the room.
What happened to him? Yugyeom had never been like this. He had been a little innocent and sometimes stupid, but he was always a cheerful boy who found life exciting in general. How had he gotten involved with Lim Jaebum? Why was he coming home at unnatural hours with wounds all over him?
You entered the kitchen before remembering that there was hardly any food in the fridge. You paused and let your head rest in your hands for a few moments as you tried to make sense of what was happening around you. Why was everything such a mess? How had things gone so far downhill just because you’d gone off to college for a few months?
“Darling?” you mother called out weakly from her room. “Darling, are you awake?”
You straightened up and entered your mother’s room quickly, only to find that the older woman was sitting up in bed and coughing. You remembered Yugyeom’s piercing words from last night. As for eomma… she’s dying. You looked at your mother and blinked back the tears that sprang into your eyes. Why hadn’t you noticed her frail body and sunken face before? She didn’t merely have a fever. She was seriously ill.
“Mom,” you whispered softly. You went and sat next to you mother carefully. “Are you hungry? I’ll go down to the grocery store and get some things so I can make breakfast-“
Your mother groaned and sat up. “No, darling, you shouldn’t have to do all the cooking when you’ve just come home. I’ll make something for you-“
“No, lie down. I want to make breakfast. You should rest.”
Your mother sank back into the bed. “Did Yugyeom-ie come home last night?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” she replied, looking relieved. The older woman closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the pillow. “He’s a good kid. He really is. Sometimes he makes mistakes, but he’s a good kid. That Jaebum boy takes care of him  well. He comes and says hi to me sometimes as well. Polite boy.”
Your spine shuddered. “Lim Jaebum comes here often?”
“Hmmm.”
You took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to your mother’s forehead before grabbing your wallet and heading out of the front door to buy groceries. Your head was still spinning. What is Lim Jaebum getting at? Was he really trying to take care of your family or was he planning to drag Yugyeom down with him into a messy life of crime and self-destruction?
You couldn’t believe anything. You didn’t trust Jaebum. You wanted him far away from your family and you were going to make it happen.
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You bit your lip and twirled the pen absentmindedly between your fingers.
“I can’t figure this one out,” you complained as you scratched out the last few lines of calculations that you had made in the notebook. “I thought I was applying the formulae right but I keep getting this weird number in recurring decimal points when the answer should be a whole number…”
Jaebum leaned towards you, pushing his glasses higher up his nose as he read over your work. You watched his eyes skim over the page. You thought Jaebum was extremely attractive when he wore glasses. He was handsome in general, of course, but you couldn’t take her eyes off him when he took his reading glasses out. It was a pity that he only wore them when the two of you were studying alone.  
“Yup. Wrong formula,” he said after a few seconds, pointing at a particular step in your calculations. “You’re supposed to apply the other one, genius.”
“Ahhh…” you bit her lip and hurried to scribble down the correct formula. “What would I do without you, Jaebum?”
“Don’t kid yourself. You would have wasted five more minutes to figure out your own mistake at worst.”
You smiled at him sweetly. “Well, then, thank you for saving five minutes of my time.”
Jaebum leaned close to you, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“Since I saved you so much time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth softly. “I think it should be mine, don’t you? Those five minutes belong to me.”
You glanced back at the homework doubtfully. “Jaebum…”
“Shh. It’s just five minutes.” He slanted his mouth over yours delicately, tongue dancing with yours as his strong arms wrapped around you. You whimpered into the kiss. Jaebum’s kisses were addictive; slow and gentle, yet at the same time extremely passionate. You could feel the heat from his lips and the eagerness with which he was kissing you And yet somehow they made you feel safe. Jaebum would pull you into his arms and wrap them around you tightly until you were cocooned into his chest. You loved that more than anything.
“Noona? Noona!”
You both pulled apart rapidly.
“Can you get under the bed?” you hissed as Yugyeom’s loud footsteps came up the stairs. Jaebum sighed but dove under the bed and managed to fit broad shoulders underneath it just as Yugyeom opened the door. You  smiled at your brother sweetly.
“Yugyeom. You’re home.”
Yugyeom smiled back half-heartedly. “Yeah. Work was hard. I hate this part-time job,” he admitted quietly. He gave you a small grin. “Is there anything to eat, noona? I’m starving.”
“Half of my paycheck goes in feeding you,” she joked. It wasn’t Yugyeom’s fault. He had recently hit puberty and seemed to be gaining inches in height with each passing day. He ate a lot and you could do nothing but playfully scold him while you made enough food. “Mom made soup before she left for her night shift. Go switch the rice cooker on before you wash up. We’ll eat in twenty minutes.”
“Fine,” Yugyeom agreed, shutting the door behind him as he left. Jaebum crawled out from under the bed and gave you a  resentful frown as he brushed dust off his shoulders.
“Do I have to hide whenever your brother is around?” he grumbled.
You pouted. “Sorry. It’s just really embarrassing. If he found you in the bedroom once then the idiot would keep trying to catch us at it and we wouldn’t have a second of privacy here. It’s just easier if he doesn’t know.”
Jaebum pouted. “Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll get going then.”
“Wait.”
You dug into your backpack and pulled out a flyer, placing it on the table. “They were handing these out outside school earlier today. It’s a college exam prep center in the next town. They have demo classes on weekends and you can sit in on the classes and decide whether you want to join.”
Jaebum glanced down at the flyer. “Oh.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Well? Do you want to go? The classes aren’t that expensive. We should give it a shot, right? How else are we going to get through college entrance exams? They might cover stuff we don’t do at school.”
“It’s just…” Jaebum bit his lip and gave you a tentative look. “I’ll come with you if you want. But I’m not sure I want to go to college.”
You laughed. “What? Don’t be stupid. You’d be a shoo-in for the top colleges.”
“I don’t want to go,” he replied with a shrug. He sat next to you and ran his fingers through his messy hair. His thin lips were pressed together tightly. “Honestly, I kind of wanted to drop-out of high school because it makes me that miserable. I’m only sticking around to graduate. But I don’t want to go to college and get a degree that I won’t know what to do with. I think there are other things I want to pursue. Other ways of making money.”
You stared at him. You knew that Jaebum was a little unconventional and that he probably wouldn’t want to do something boring with his life. But you hadn’t thought that he wouldn’t even want to go to college. You glanced down at the flyer quietly.
“What are you going to do if you don’t go to college?” you whispered.
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Maybe I’ll get into dancing professionally. I could audition for some dance teams.”
“But how will you earn money in the meantime-“
Jaebum leaned down and kissed your forehead sweetly. “Baby, don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself. I have ways of making money that don’t need a college degree, okay? Let’s go visit that prep class place on Saturday.”
You stared at him. “What ways? Jaebum, you’re not doing anything illegal, are you?”
Jaebum chuckled. “Babe, relax.”
“Promise me you’re not doing something shady like dealing drugs or whatever,” you insisted. You trusted that Jaebum was a good an honest person. But truth be told, there were all sorts of people at those dance battles. You were terrified that he might be dragged into a life of crime. “Don’t join a gang or something. You won’t, right? You’ll stay safe?”
Jaebum cupped your cheek and smiled. “You’re adorable when you’re worried about me.”
“I’m not kidding, Jaebum. I’ll never forgive you if you get yourself arrested-”
“I won’t. Trust me.”
Jaebum’s dark eyes were shining softly. You knew that you could trust the man in front of you but you were worried. Too many things had gone wrong in your life too quickly. You couldn’t afford to lose Jaebum too. You needed him to stay with you. You needed him to be the smart and reliable person that you always trusted.  
“Okay,” you whispered.
Jaebum chuckled as he moved towards your open window. “I can’t believe I have to sneak out because of your little brother…”
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You bought groceries early in the morning and were busy making pancakes in the kitchen when Yugyeom finally came downstairs. He blinked sleepily and absent-mindedly for a moment before moving past you and heading towards the living room.
You called after him.
“Yugyeom, where are you going? I made pancakes!” you offered kindly. You had begun to wonder if you’d been too harsh with him last night. Yugyeom was your brother after all. You loved him. The two of you could sit and talk about whatever he was going through. You peeked out of the kitchen and waved him over eagerly. “You like my pancakes, right? Come on. I even bought the tasty syrup from the store.”
Yugyeom hesitated in the hallway. “I’m going out.”
“Where?”
He turned and frowned at you. “I don’t have to tell you where I’m going,” he snapped. “You’ve been gone for two years. What, you think you can suddenly come in here and order me around and demand to know about my life? That’s not how it works, noona.”
Your throat felt constricted. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like you hate me,” you replied quietly. Yugyeom was glaring at you and you felt like you were going to cry. Why was he behaving this way? What had you done to deserve this? “Yugyeom, I came home after two years. I want to spend time with my family. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed Mom but she’s lying sick on her bed and you’re acting like a completely different person, I…” you trailed off, your voice cracking. “I don’t know what to do.”
Yugyeom turned away from you. “You should have thought of that before you left home.”
“You’re acting like I ran away! I went to college, Yugyeom! Things haven’t been easy for me either!” you replied heatedly. You were on the verge of tears. “I need to keep on top of my studies to maintain my scholarship and get a job so I can repay my student loans and our father’s debt.”
“You don’t have to worry about our father’s debt,” Yugyeom informed you dully as he sat down in the hallway to put on his shoes. He tugged at the shoelaces. “I’ve started paying them off already.”
“How? Are you still working part-time at the restaurant?”
“No, I quit that job. It didn’t pay shit. I’m working for Jaebum-hyung now,” Yugyeom replied. He finished tying his shoelaces and stood up. His backpack was lying beside the doorway and he picked it up and slung it over his shoulders. “I have to go to work now. Bye.”
You closed her eyes to blink back your tears.
“Did Jaebum do this?” you asked quietly.
“What?”
“Did Jaebum turn you against me?” you demanded, voice rising. You had tried to keep calm but your head was spinning and you felt like you were going to lose control of yourself any moment. The unfamiliar man standing in front of you was still your brother and he wouldn’t have become like this without an explanation. “Did he make you hate me? Is he getting you to do illegal things for money? Is he blackmailing you or hurting you in some way?”
Yugyeom stiffened. “I’ve said this before. Don’t talk about Jaebum-hyung that way.”
“Are you scared of him?”
“No! How many times do I have to say this to get it through your thick head?” he yelled. “Jaebum-hyung was there for me. He stayed by me no matter what. He’s taking care of me, noona, in a way that you haven’t for the past two years.”
You opened your mouth. “I-“
“Don’t press me on this any further,” he cut you off and turned away from you. “Because Jaebum-hyung is an amazing person and I would pick him over you any day. Don’t push me to make that choice. Go eat your stupid pancakes yourself. And make sure Mom takes her medicines on time. It’s the least you can do at this point.”
He stormed past you and slammed the front door shut behind him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You closed your eyes, holding back tears as your hands trembled. You couldn’t speak. Your entire body was shivering from fear and you felt like you were going to faint.
The moneylenders had been getting more impatient. Admittedly, it wasn’t all of them. Some were more willing to wait. But there was one man in particular who didn’t trust that you would ever pay him back, who wouldn’t shy away from using whatever means he could to recover his money.
You had been returning from the library late in the evening when the two men had grabbed you. When they held a knife to her throat and told you to pay the money back immediately, you were sure that you were going to die. They wouldn’t believe that you didn’t have it. They would get it out of you somehow, they said, and their boss wasn’t going to wait much longer.
By the time they left you alone you were terrified and sobbing in the alleyway. You barely managed to call Jaebum and tell him where you were.
Jaebum’s face had gone dark when he found you, bruises littering your arms from the men’s rough handling and crying so hard that you could only blubber out incomprehensible words. He had held you silently as you cried. You weren’t scared for herself; surely the moneylender knew that he would never get the money if he killed you.
“What about my mother and Yugyeom?” you had whispered. Your fingers clutched onto Jaebum’s shirt as you sobbed the last of your remaining tears into it. “How can I go off to college? What if he hurts them while I’m gone, Jaebum? What if he does something to them, I could never…”
Jaebum had pressed you to his chest. “This will never happen again.”
“How can you be sure-“
“It won’t,” he said firmly. His own shoulders were shaking in anger and his eyes had gone dark. You had never seen Jaebum so angry. He was normally a straight-faced and calm person but he looked almost murderous as he held you that night. “That man will never touch you again. And once you go to college, he will never touch your family.”
You shook your head. ‘How can you-“
“Baby, do you trust me?”
His fingers held your chin gently and he tilted your face up so that you were looking into his eyes. You didn’t recognize the look on his face. It was different and strange. Suddenly, he didn’t seem like Jaebum anymore. When you failed to respond, he pressed his forehead to yours so that you had nowhere else to look.
“Have I ever lied to you?” Jaebum asked softly. “Have I ever let you down?”
“N-no-“
“Then believe me. I will not let him touch you. And if he wants to get to your family once you go to college, he’ll have to get through me. That is a promise.” Jaebum’s thumb gently brushed away one of the tears that had spilt out of your red eyes. “Come on, take a deep breath and wipe away those tears. You don’t want Yugyeom to see you like this.”
You nodded, wiping away your tears and then pressing a hard kiss to Jaebum’s mouth. You didn’t know whether he could do anything to help you, but he had stayed with you through the hardest times of your life. You knew that you would have gone mad without him.
“I love you,” you told him firmly.
Jaebum smiled down at you. “I love you too,” he whispered.
You pulled away from him and rolled down your shirt sleeves to hide the bruises as you entered your house. Yugyeom was too busy watching television to notice your entrance so you managed to slip upstairs before your mother could suspect anything had happened.
Once you reached your bedroom, you peeked out of the window and saw that Jaebum was still standing in the street in front of your house. He was walking up and down the street agitatedly while he talked on the phone, running his fingers through his already tousled hair. You heard him curse loudly once. After about ten minutes, he hung up and walked away. Jaebum’s tall figure slowly disappeared down the road and out of sight of your window.
If only you had known in that moment, how much Lim Jaebum was willing to sacrifice for you.
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“I need to talk to Lim Jaebum.”
The handsome man behind the counter had put on a dazzling smile when you first walked into the bakery, but it immediately faltered upon recognition. Mark Tuan’s large eyes blinked at you for a long moment before he responded.
“That’s a nice way to greet someone you haven’t seen in over a year,” Mark mused. “And here I thought you wanted some cake.”
“I wouldn’t mind some cake,” you admitted, feeling a little ashamed of your rude behavior. It was true that you were furious and frustrated but it wasn’t fair to take that out on Mark. He was one of the sweetest people you knew and had been slipping you and your brother free treats ever since he started the bakery. “But right now, I need to talk to Lim Jaebum.”
“Well, you’re not going to find him here.”
“Where is he?”
Mark sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Oppa, please. I know you’re the one that took care of him while he was in prison,” you pointed out. You might not have been here when it happened but you weren’t entirely cut off from this town. Rumors had reached you even back in college. Mark had always taken care of the younger boys in town. “If anyone would know where he is, it’s you. Or Jackson and Jinyoung, but I don’t know how to find them either.”
Mark ran a hand over his face. “Jaebum’s had it hard.”
“He killed a man while trying to steal from him.”
“And he only went to prison for eight months, which shows that a judge in a court of law didn’t think he was completely to blame. So if you’re going to hold that against him-“
“What if I told you that I think he’s about to take my little brother down the same path?”
Mark was quiet. He stared at you for a long moment, eyes unblinking. Then he took a deep breath and then nodded. “Maybe it’s better you talk to him yourself. He and Jinyoung bought out the old mechanics’ place; do you remember it? They run the car repair shed. You should find him somewhere around there.”
You nodded. “Thank you.”
“Anyone could have told you that,” Mark replied dismissively. He turned and looked at you with a firm gaze. “Listen to me. Jaebum is a good man. You know that more than anyone. Don’t forget that, okay? He doesn’t deserve a lot of the things that are happening to him.”
You closed your eyes. “Don’t try to pull that with me. You might be used to dealing with boys who go down the wrong path so it’s nothing in your eyes, Mark, but what Jaebum did is unforgivable. He’s a criminal.”
“No, you don’t-“
“You’re going to tell me that he did it because he was having a hard time. I know. Money was hard to come by. He probably wanted to help me pay my debts back so he and his gang tried to steal from that man. I don’t care. I never asked him to commit a crime for me and I most definitely never asked him to kill someone,” you snapped. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened and no matter which way I look at it, what Jaebum did is unforgivable. He’s not the man I used to know. He’d been dealing with these sort of criminals long before he told me the truth. He lied to me.”
Mark was quiet.
“I know,” he reassured you softly. “Just go talk to him.”
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
You took a deep breath before you entered the shed-like mechanic’s store. You had gone to the gas station nearby first, but a rather handsome young boy with a cheerful smile had been manning the counter and stammered out that Jaebum was in the garage. His nametag read Youngjae and he had gaped at you in a rather obvious manner as you left the store. You wasn’t sure whether he was just a hormonal teenage boy, or if he somehow knew who you were.
The mechanic’s was a dirty place. You found yourself coughing as you were hit with the pungent smell of oil and petrol. To nobody’s surprise, you spotted Park Jinyoung settled comfortably behind a table with some ledgers open in front of him, nodding off. No wonder. He had never been one to get his hands dirty, Jinyoung was probably managing the finances of this place. You tapped the table in front of him to get his attention.
“Ahem.”
Jinyoung jolted upright. “Huh? What-who- oh.” His eyes widened as he saw you and he blinked. “Well. I heard you were back in town, Chocolate Eyes, but I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Where’s Jaebum?”
He smiled a gummy smile. “What, no pleasantries-“
“Where’s Jaebum?”
His smile dropped when he noticed the serious expression on you face. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, yelling out Jaebum’s name loudly. There was a shuffling noise from the back of the shed. A few clanks could be heard before Jaebum appeared from behind a car. He was wiping the oil off his hands as he approached the front, and he stopped short when his eyes landed on you.
“Hey,” he greeted softly.
“Can we talk?” you asked him.
He nodded silently, leading you towards a door in the side of the shop that led into a smaller office. It had a small table that was stacked with more ledgers, and paperwork that had evidently been left unfiled. Jaebum didn’t speak but you could see that he was tense; years of knowing him had left you able to recognize when the seemingly cool man was actually flustered. Jaebum’s jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes looked worried as he pointed towards a chair.
“Uh- you can have a seat-“
“Where’s Yugyeom? He told me he was coming to work with you today,” you said, ignoring the chair.
Jaebum was silent for a moment. His eyes drank you in slowly and quietly. He hadn’t had a chance to look at you properly the previous night, considering how dark it was and how upset you had been over Yugyeom being covered in blood. But he saw you now. You looked the same as you had looked two years ago. Your cheeks had filled out more and you looked healthier than when you had been here.
Jaebum could see the hard exterior that you were trying to display but there was vulnerability in your eyes. Your chocolate-colored orbs were red and puffy even as they glared at him. Jaebum could tell that you had been crying so he took a deep breath and tried to focus on his words.
“I sent Yugyeom on some errands.”
You didn’t like that answer. “Errands?” you demanded. “Is he going to come back beaten up and half dead from those errands again?”
“I sent him to the post office. He’s mailing some orders to our suppliers.”
“Suppliers? Suppliers of what?”
“Car parts,” he said firmly. Jaebum sighed and gestured towards the ledgers behind him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but I’m not doing anything illegal here. This is a genuine business. You can check my accounts if you want to. It’s transparent.”
You folded your arms across your chest and stared back at Jaebum. You hated the gentle way in which he looked at you, the softness in his gaze even while you glared at him. It reminded you of all the stolen nights spent in your bedroom when you would look up from your homework and find Jaebum looking at you with that same gentle gaze, eyes full of adoration.
But you weren’t going to let silly feelings from the past overwhelm you. There was something going on, and the Lim Jaebum standing in front of you had too many secrets.
“Yugyeom says he’s started paying back my father’s debts. He claims he’s doing it from the salary you’re paying him for working here,” you informed him stiffly. “I’m supposed to believe you can afford to pay him so much money just from your profits here? How long have you been out of prison, Jaebum? I highly doubt that business is booming right now.”
Jaebum was silent.
“Can you honestly tell me you don’t have some other source of income on the side?”
He lowered his eyes, unable to meet you piercing gaze. “It’s not what you think,” he whispered.
“What is it, then? Tell me.”
“You don’t understand. You’ve been gone for a long time. Things here have changed a lot, especially your brother. I know you love him, but he’s not the same kid he used to be-“
“Of course he isn’t, you’ve been ruining him,” you hissed.
Jaebum looked bewildered. “Ruining him? What does that even mean, what exactly do you think-“
“Yugyeom told me,” you explained shakily, “that he would choose you over me any day. He seems to think I abandoned him. My little brother looked at me with more hatred than I’ve ever seen in his eyes in the past 17 years, Jaebum; tell me you didn’t do that to him.”
“He shouldn’t be treating you that way,” Jaebum mumbled. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I’ll talk to him about his behavior and teach him to be more respectful-“
You scoffed. “How? Are you going to beat it into him again?”
Jaebum looked shocked. “I have never laid a finger on your brother. Do you really think I’m capable of that? Do you really think I’m such a monster that I would hit Yugyeom?” he asked, his voice cracking. His eyes were piercing into yours as he searched for some reassurance. “You know me better than anyone. How could you think I would do that?”
There was a brief silence.
“I didn’t think you were capable of robbery or murder either, but here we are.”
Jaebum looked defeated. He closed his eyes for a moment and the two of you stood in a long, painful silence. You could feel your heartbeat thudding. Jaebum wasn’t denying it. He looked up at you calmly after a few moments, his eyes filled with pain.
“You must really hate me,” he whispered. He let out a small, choked laugh. “I probably deserve it, I don’t know. But believe me when I say that I never had any intention of hurting you or your brother. That’s the last thing I would want to do.”
You closed your eyes in an attempt to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.. “I don’t care. I don’t care what you wanted. If you had known anything about me then you would have known that I never wanted you to do any of those things. I hate that you did them. I hate you. You’re a monster.”
Before Jaebum could say anything else, the door to the small office room burst open. Yugyeom entered with a cheerful grin on his face.
“Hyung! I posted those letters, like you asked. I met Bambam on the way too, his arm is almost healed so he might come into work tomorrow.” He finished speaking, before he suddenly noticed you standing there. His smile dropped suddenly. “Noona?”
Jaebum gave the younger boy a forced smile. “Your sister has been looking for you. Why don’t you go home with her?”
Yugyeom frowned at you. “Why do you have to come into my workplace?” he sounded annoyed. “Anyway, my shift isn’t over yet. I’m supposed to be working until 9 today so-“
“I’ll let you off early,” Jaebum replied. “Go home and have dinner with your sister.”
“I don’t want to,” Yugyeom replied defiantly. He turned and glared at you. “Why should I have dinner with her? Why should I care when she never cared about me?”
Your chest felt tight. “Yugyeom…”
Jaebum’s eyes flashed with a hint of anger as he saw the broken-hearted expression on your face. He knew how much you loved Yugyeom. He knew that you had done so much in order to protect your little brother and that you couldn’t bear the way he was treating you now. Jaebum placed a hand on Yugyeom’s shoulder and then turned to look at you.
“You should go home. I’ll send Yugyeom back home before dinnertime,” he told you calmly.
You swallowed. “But-”
“I promise.”
“If he’s not back home in two hours then I’m calling the police,” you told Jaebum shakily. Then you turned once more to meet Yugyeom’s angry eyes and felt the sharp stab of pain in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you slowly walked out of the mechanic’s shed.
You suddenly felt incredibly alone in this world.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Noona, can’t I come to these dance battles too?”
You sighed. Yugyeom was growing more alert and intelligent as time passed, which meant that he had a knack for figuring out when you were about to sneak out of the house to meet Jaebum. The young boy burst into your bedroom just as you were putting on your jacket and climbing out of the window.
“No, Yugyeom,” you told him patiently.
Yugyeom frowned. “Why not?”
“Because they’re not for little kids.”
“But I want to learn how to dance too! I’m really good at dancing!” he insisted with a pout. Yugyeom immediately started doing a rather poor imitation of breakdance moves in the middle of your bedroom to prove his passion. You couldn’t help but laugh; Yugyeom was growing taller and lankier each day and puberty had left him with dangling limbs and shoulders that he didn’t know what to do with. You giggled when he tried to imitate a robot-like dance move.
“Yugyeom, stop,” you laughed.
Yugyeom stopped dancing  and frowned. “It’s not fair. I’m a better dancer than you. Why can’t I go? Noona, I want to meet your boyfriend. Maybe he can teach me how to dance.”
You shook your head “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Yugyeom folded his arms across his chest with a pout. “Yes, you do. Don’t lie. I heard his voice in your bedroom last night. I know he’s the person you keep going to these dance battles with. Why won’t you take me with you? I promise I’ll be totally quiet and I won’t annoy him at all. I’ll even call him hyung and he can teach me how to breakdance!”
You smiled and placed your hands on your brother’s chubby cheeks to squish them. “You don’t want to come to those underground dance battles. How about you join some dance classes? Noona will find a way to pay for them. Just wait a year or two, okay?”
“Really?”
“I promise. If Yugyeom-mie wants to learn how to dance then he can learn it properly, not from my boyfriend.”
Yugyeom’s face broke into a shit-eating grin. “Ha! So you admit you have a boyfriend?”
You flushed. “What?”
“You admitted it, you admitted it! I didn’t really want to learn how to dance I just wanted you to admit that you had a boyfriend!” Yugyeom sang happily. He held his palm out to you in a smug manner. “Noona, give me money to buy a new game or I’m going to tell Mom about your boyfriend.”
You glared at him. “You little shit.”
Yugyeom beamed.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your mother was having trouble breathing when you got home.
“Are you sure we don’t need to go to the hospital, Mom?” you asked. There was a small medicine bag on the bedside table and you helped her find the asthma inhaler and use it to help calm her breathing. There were a surprisingly large number of medicines in the bag. You didn’t know who had paid for all of these medications and you didn’t really want to ask.
You had a feeling that you wouldn’t like the answer.
“I’m fine,” she croaked dismissively. She let out a dry cough. “This happens all the time. It’s fine. I’ll be perfectly fine in a few minutes.”
You bit your lip. “Mom…”
“It’s really all right. Why don’t you let me get up and make you some dinner-”
“I’ve already started on dinner,” you told her firmly before making sure that she lay back on the bed. You didn’t want her to strain herself in this delicate condition. “I bought chicken and potatoes to make Yugyeom’s favorite dinner and they’re cooking. I’m going to bring you some soup in bed.”
She glanced up at you. “Are you all right, dear?”
No, you thought to yourself. No, I’m not fine. Everything is falling apart, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know how sick you are. I don’t know how much trouble Yugyeom’s in.
I don’t know anything.
You had finished making dinner and served the meal into plates when the front door opened. Yugyeom trudged into the house with his lips pressed together tightly. He gave you a surly look and then sat down at the dining table. He blinked in surprise at how clean it was; you’d spent all afternoon cleaning the kitchen and the living room.
“I made chicken,” you informed him gently. You set the plate down in front of Yugyeom but he didn’t even look at it. He simply stared at you in stony silence. You sat across from him and clenched your fists. You hate the emptiness you saw in Yugyeom’s eyes as he stared at you. You hated how you could no longer see the spark of innocence, the happiness in his eyes as he called you noona.
You hated how your little brother had disappeared.
“Aren’t you hungry?” you wondered.
Yugyeom folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “Jaebum-hyung says I have to apologize to you. He thinks that I shouldn’t have been so rude and that I should treat my older sister better. Funny, isn’t it? How he seems to think that you’re deserving of respect even though you evidently think that he’s trash.”
You took a deep breath. “Yugyeom, Lim Jaebum is a criminal-”
“He served the time the court asked him to.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s guilty of murder and robbery,” you explained as you tried to stay calm. Your voice was trembling and you tried to make your brother understand. “He plead guilty to killing a man and robbing him. I know that you seem to think that Jaebum is some kind of role model and I understand why you trust him because he can seem like a very kind and understanding person but that doesn’t change the fact that-”
“You don’t even know him,” Yugyeom snapped.
You stared at him. “What?”
“You don’t even know him. You’re just like all the other people in this town, noona, you judge Jaebum-hyung based on rumours and stories. He’s a good person. He was there for me when nobody else was there and he took care of me. He treated me like his own brother. You were gone. When’s the last time you called me, noona? You haven’t been home in two years. Did you ever even answer my calls while you were at uni? Did you ever bother to come home during break?”
Your stomach churned. “Yugyeom, I was busy-”
He scoffed. “The usual story.”
“I was!” you cried. You couldn’t take this anymore. You couldn’t take Yugyeom treating you like you’d done something wrong when all your struggles and suffering had been for him. “Do you think it’s been easy to get my accounting degree while working multiple jobs at the same time? I was exhausted! I’ve been working day and night in order to put myself through university and keep up with my studies to maintain my scholarship! Do you know why I do these things? Do you you know why I struggle so much? Because I want a better life for our family. I want to get a good job, to earn enough to pay off our debt and take you and Mom away from this stupid town! I want to earn enough for you to go to college!”
Yugyeom stared at you in disbelief. “Really? Is that what you tell yourself every night? That you left me here to rot for my benefit?”
Your hands trembled. “I didn’t leave you here to rot-”
Yugyeom laughed, a cold and empty laugh that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes were harsh when he stared at you. “I don’t know, noona. I don’t think you can have it both ways. You don’t get to leave me behind here and go off to your fancy university and live your life while claiming that you did it because you love me and care about me.”
“Yugyeom, I wanted you to be happy-”
“But I was unhappy!” he yelled at you suddenly. His face had turned red and you could see that his eyes had glazed over. He had evidently been holding this in for a long time. “I was unhappy when my sister left me behind in this stupid town, I was unhappy when she barely answered my calls or cared about my life. I was unhappy and I wanted you and you weren’t there for me, noona, so it doesn’t matter how much you sat there and wanted me to be happy because I wasn’t!”
You stared at him in shock. You suddenly realized how much pain Yugyeom was in. You realized how sheltered and adored and loved he had been until you left him behind to deal with his own life. How could you have been so stupid? How could you have thought that Yugyeom would be okay with you leaving him or that he would understand your reasons? He had been used to his older sister always being there for him and suddenly she had left. You wanted to reach out and hug your brother.
“I… I’m sorry.”
He bit his lip and shook his head. “Forget it.”
“Yugyeom, I really-”
“I don’t want to hear it, noona. I wanted to talk to you so many times but you never listened to me. You were always too busy. I don’t care if you wanted to earn money or pay off Dad’s debts or send me to college. We could have figured out ways to do that together. We could have worked as a team like we always did. You didn’t have to leave me here.”
Your voice cracked. “But-”
“You abandoned me and you seriously expect me to believe that you did it for my benefit,” Yugyeom reminded you shakily. His dark eyes were filled with pain. “Well, here’s the sad thing about your life, noona. I don’t believe that you really care about me and I’m not grateful. So you can do whatever you want now”
Yugyeom pushed the plate of chicken away and stormed upstairs.
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Yugyeom was bleeding.
They had taken him behind the alleyway and beaten him up, the same way they had been doing every day since he had tried to leave the gang. He had imagined that joining the gang would be cool and that he would make some friends. He hadn’t expected to be handed a knife and ordered him to mug somebody on the street at night. He couldn’t do it. Yugyeom had never hurt anybody and he couldn’t start now. He had refused.
But there was no leaving the gang. Once you entered it was for life.
Lying the alleyway while his arm bled out and his legs screamed in pain, Yugyeom wondered if he had much of life left.
He limped into a corner behind the alleyway and managed to find a place to sit while he clutched his heavily bleeding arm. His teeth were gritted in pain. Yugyeom was growing used to it; the physical pain wasn’t as unbearable as the intense loneliness that he felt once the gang was done beating him up. Yugyeom had never felt so alone in his life. He couldn’t go home and tell his mother; she was already so weak and frail, what if she tried to help him and the gang hurt her as well? All of his friends at school had started to avoid him. All the teachers had labelled him a problematic student and given up on him.
And you. His noona, the one person who had always taken care of him and solved all his problems for him, was gone.
He missed you.
Yugyeom reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out the cellphone that you had given him. Your last goodbye present before you left him here in this horrible place. Your cellphone number was the only number saved in the contacts and he tentatively pressed call before holding it up to his phone.
It rang four times before you answered.
“Yugyeom?” your voice answered. Yugyeom wanted to cry upon hearing your gentle voice. He wanted to hug you and tell you how horrible things were, he wanted to beg you to come back. He wanted to tell you that he didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t do this alone. He needed you.
“Noona,” he croaked out.
“Yugyeom, I’m at work. Can I call you back tomorrow? I have to finish my shift and then go write a paper by midnight,” your voice said hurriedly. You sounded busy, as though talking to him was a bother. You sounded tired. Yugyeom felt his heart sink.
He bit his lip. “O-okay.”
“Just text me if it’s something urgent, okay? I can’t let my boss catch me my on my phone. Good night!”
Yugyeom let the phone fall to his side and sniffled back the tears that had begun to form in his eyes. You were always busy. You were always tired. He had been trying to tell you how bad things were for weeks but you never seemed to want to listen. He held the phone loosely in his hand and then opened a new text message.
‘Noona,’ he typed slowly. ‘I don’t want to live anymore.���
Yugyeom stared at the message for a few moments. Then he deleted it and let his head fall back against the wall. The phone clattered to the ground and he closed his eyes. There was no escape. You wouldn’t come to save him.
This was his life now.
Yugyeom wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there bleeding. It was only when a soft hand gently shook him awake that he opened his eyes. He looked up blearily and saw an unfamiliar face; a broad-shouldered man with a sharp set jawline and kind eyes was helping him to his feet.
“Hey kid,” the man said quietly. “Stay with me, okay? Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
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You stumbled out of the house, feeling numb.
You felt like somebody had turned your world upside down. It was as if you had been walking along a path only to find that you’d been going backwards, that you were further away from your destination than when you started. Like you were tired, worn-out and had exhausted all your energy only to find that you’d been going the wrong way.
Now you didn’t have any energy left.
It was too late.
Yugyeom hated you.
Your feet carried you slowly down the dusty street. This town had always been small but you suddenly realized how dead it looked. It was a miserable place full of miserable people. It had always been. You had never been happy here. There were only two people in this entire world that had ever made you happy and you had somehow lost them both.
Jaebum had betrayed you and you had betrayed Yugyeom.
You passed by Mark’s bakery- it was closed, he always closed early in the evenings- and found yourself slowly walking towards the old gas station and Jaebum’s mechanic store. It had belonged to a friendly old man back when you were in high school. The old man must have died if Jaebum owned it now.
Jaebum.
Why had you blamed him? You were filled with a sudden intense, disgust for yourself as you looked at the old mechanic’s shed and saw the flickering light on in the back. Jaebum was evidently still working. He had been the one to take care of Yugyeom and give him a job while you were gone. He had taken responsibility for your young and innocent brother while you had been off in your own little world.
Jaebum was like that. Even when you had been together he had always done everything in his power to make you happy. His presence was magnetic. He was responsible and affectionate and had a heart of gold. He cared.
You missed Jaebum like crazy.
Your knees felt weak so you sat down on the sidewalk and pulled your knees up to your chest. You buried your head in your arms and held back the sobs that racked your body. You felt alone. You understood how Yugyeom must have felt now, dealing with your sick mother and having nobody to turn to when he was weak. You had failed him.
You had failed him terribly.
You heard the sound of footsteps approaching and slowly lifted your head. Jaebum had just stepped out of the shop and was walking towards you. He looked hesitant; his eyes were filled with concern but when they met yours, he finished the journey.
“Hey,” he greeted you quietly. “Didn’t Yugyeom come home?”
“He did,” you mumbled.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
“Do you want to come inside?” Jaebum gently held his hand out to you. You saw his hand; it was rougher than it had been back in high school. There were calluses on his fingers and smudges of oil on his thumb. He had evidently been working hard. You looked up at Jaebum as the tears slid down your cheeks. You felt small and weak. Jaebum had always been there for you when you felt weak. He had been your only source of strength during the most difficult time of your life.
You missed him.
“Okay,” you whispered as you slowly reached for his hand. “Okay.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hey, you. Tall kid. Get under the car and clean up that grease for me,” Jinyoung ordered.
Yugyeom pouted.
Everyone working at the mechanics’ shed had almost instantly started to welcome him; some because they were fond of how sweet and easy-going Yugyeom was and others because they were scared of Jaebum and what he might do if they didn’t treat Yugyeom well.
Park Jinyoung was fond of Yugyeom because he liked to make him do all his dirty work.
“Hyung, isn’t that your car?” Yugyeom wondered.
Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “Are you talking back to me? Are you forgetting who the boss is here?”
Yugyeom opened his mouth to respond cheekily but he was cut off by the appearance of Jaebum himself, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. Jaebum chuckled as he tossed the rag on a table nearby.
“The boss is me, Jinyoung. I put the money into this place. And I say that it’s your car so you need to clean up the grease yourself. Don’t keep bullying the kid.”
Jinyoung looked offended. “I’d like to remind you that I’m the one who manages the customers around here. Nobody would be sending their cars to us if my pretty face wasn’t sitting at the front desk. I bring some life to this place and you should be grateful.”
“I am grateful,” Jaebum replied simply. “Now clean your own car.”
Jinyoung made a face behind Jaebum’s back as the latter walked out of the mechanic’s shop. Yugyeom sniggered gleefully, but fell silent as soon as Jinyoung turned his sharp glare towards him.
“Don’t be so quick to laugh at me, kid. You’re lucky Jaebum puts up with you. He’s usually pretty hard on new people but for some reason he thinks you're cute. There’s something fishy about this whole situation. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
Jackson lifted his head from behind one of the car engines with a grin. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s because he looks a little bit like Chocolate Eyes.”
Yugyeom perked up. “Chocolate Eyes? What’s that?”
“Shhh, we don’t talk about Chocolate Eyes in front of Jaebum anymore. Not since she left, anyway.”
“But who is Chocolate Eyes?” Yugyeom demanded.
Jackson checked the door furtively to make sure that Jaebum had really left the shed before he turned back to Yugyeom. “Chocolate Eyes is our nickname for this girl that Jaebum was in love with before he went to prison. He used to write all these sweet love songs about her. Jaebum is usually a calm and logical person but when it came to her, he always threw all logic out of the window. I think he would have cut off his own hand for her if she’d just asked.”
Yugyeom gaped. “Wow. I can’t imagine how awesome she must have been for Jaebum-hyung to fall in love with her.”
Jinyoung tsk-ed. “Yeah, but what’s the point? She left him.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes love makes you do crazy things,” Jackson mused with a frown. “You forget all reason and rationality. That was what happened to Jaebum. He killed a man for her and she never forgave him. She came to the courtroom and watched him plead guilty, then she told him that she never wanted to see him again and left.”
Yugyeom’s eyes widened. “But why did he kill the man-”
“Okay, that’s enough gossiping about Jaebum’s life!” Jinyoung decided with a frown. “There is grease under my car and someone needs to clean it! Kim Yugyeom. We don’t pay you to sit around. Until the day you start bearing a resemblance to MY long lost lover, you’re going to have to pull your weight around here.”
Yugyeom pouted. “Yes, hyung...”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The mechanic’s shed was empty because everyone had already gone home for the night.
Jaebum turned on a few lights so that the room was brighter and pulled up a chair next to Jinyoung’s desk for you. You sat down on it shakily and watched Jaebum go into a small pantry off to the side of the shed. He returned with two mugs of hot tea and pressed one into your hands. The warmth of the mug returned some feeling to your fingers and you stared up at Jaebum helplessly.
What am I doing? you wondered briefly.
“Did Yugyeom apologize to you?” Jaebum asked quietly.
You closed your eyes in shame. “He hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s been through a lot and he’s upset that you weren’t around to help him deal with his problems. He joined a gang and they wouldn’t let him leave. You know how dangerous those things are. He was being beaten up by them regularly when I found him. Yugyeom is an innocent kid, and he didn’t know how to handle the situation.”
You felt sick. “Oh god.”
“It happens to a lot of kids in this town.”
“Yeah, but Yugyeom’s my brother,” you whispered.
Your hands trembled and Jaebum carefully took the tea mug away from you. You looked up at him and suddenly realized that, in this moment, you hated yourself so much more than you hated Jaebum. You were the one person Yugyeom had trusted and you'd left him behind and tried to blame Jaebum for your mistakes.
“How could I have let this happen to him? Why didn’t I just make the time to call every now and then? How did- how did I not even know that things had gotten this bad?”
“You were busy. It can’t have been easy to put yourself through college and work so hard.”
“It wasn’t,” you whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and a tear escaped. “It was hell. It is hell. I barely slept three hours a night because I’d work night shifts and have to go to class the next morning. I would have given up long ago if I didn’t keep thinking that I couldn’t let down Yugyeom and my mother. I went through all of this for them but I destroyed them in the process. I didn't… I didn't mean to leave him!”
“He doesn’t know that. He just missed you.”
“I miss him too,” you choked out.
You couldn’t hold back the sobs that were rising up in your throat. Your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest and you pressed your hands to your face while you sobbed. How could you have been so ignorant? Jaebum sat silently while you cried your eyes out. There was nothing he could say to help; you had bottled up your emotions and you needed to release them. He simply watched you quietly and wondered why the world had dealt someone as soft-hearted as you such a bad deal.
Once the sobs subsided, Jaebum handed you a tissue. You took it reluctantly and then looked up at Jaebum. He was watching you with a pained expression on his face.
“Why was he all bloody last night?” you managed to ask finally. “It really wasn’t you who hurt him?”
Jaebum sighed. “We paid off the gang to stop attacking him but sometimes they still rough him up when they catch him alone. Last night was one of those nights. Yugyeom’s gotten a lot better at defending himself, though, and he has my number on speed dial. He calls when he’s in trouble so we can go get him. You don’t need to worry. It doesn’t happen too often.”
You glared at him.
“Once is too often.”
“He’ll be fine,” Jaebum promised you. His voice was gentle. It shouldn't have been and you hated how much it comforted you. “Yugyeom might not be the little kid you remember anymore, but sometimes life throws circumstances at people and it changes them. We all have to toughen up. Yugyeom happened to learn that the hard way, just like you and I did."
You stared at Jaebum. There was a kindness in his eyes that you had missed, a kindness that you found so difficult to trust because you had been betrayed by it before. Jaebum had always been soft at heart. But you had also seen this soft-hearted man handcuffed and taken to prison. You had watched him stand in front of a judge and plead guilty to murder in order to get a lighter sentence.
Somewhere behind that soft heart  was a monster.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly. “Helping Yugyeom? Why did you take him in and pay off the gang to leave him alone?”
Jaebum blinked at you calmly. “You know why I did it.”
“Out of kindness?”
“No.” Jaebum’s lips twisted into a reluctant smile. “Do you really want to hear me say it?”
"Yeah."
"I did it because I love you," he told you quietly. "I did it because I promised you once that I would never let anything happen to your family and I wanted to keep my promise."
You stared at him. Even after all this time, it made your heart leap to hear Jaebum say so confidently that he loved you. His voice was gentle and it sounded so honest and sincere. Jaebum had always been honest.
Until the day he wasn't.
"I figured our promises went down the drain when you were convicted for murder and robbery," you told him bluntly. It was true. No matter how kind Jaebum's eyes were or how sincere his words, nobody could ever erase the memory of watching the man you loved be taken away in handcuffs as a violent criminal. That would stay with you forever.
Jaebum leaned back and nodded. His eyes were dull and unsurprised, like he had already resigned himself to the truth.
"I thought you would say that. I don't expect you to trust me. But I'm still the man you loved," he whispered. He took a deep breath. "I understand if you hate that I'm a criminal but I have only ever wanted you to be happy."
"Did you really go there to rob that man?" you asked shakily. You wondered if Jaebum would ever tell you the truth, or if there was even any truth left to tell. "I saw the victim's face in the papers. He used to come to your dance battles sometimes. Did you find out that he had that money and go there to rob him?"
Jaebum's jaw tightened. "No."
"Then why did you go there?"
"You don't want to know," he replied darkly. "Trust me. You're better off not knowing what happened that night. Hate me all you want, since it's true that I killed him."
"Don't you feel any remorse?" you whispered.
Jaebum shook his head. "No. I would do it again."
You stared at Jaebum. Despite all that had happened, some part of you desperately wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that the man you had loved had had a justified reason for robbing a man and murdering him in cold-blood.
You wanted to know if he had really done it for you.
"Then tell me. How bad can it be? Tell me what happened."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you sure about this, Jaebum?” Jinyoung asked nervously.
“I need the money. She needs the money or those goons will never leave her alone,” Jaebum said firmly. His jaw was clenched. He had made up his mind and there was nothing anybody could do to change it. Seeing you cry after you’d been threatened by the moneylender’s cronies had terrified Jaebum.
He wasn’t going to wait to lose you.  
“But Jaebum, it’s your music. They’re going to pass it off as their own and they won’t give you a share in the copyrights. You wanted to start your own career. How are you going to do that if you sell everything you’ve worked on to that fake-ass musician? Do you really need to get involved with people like that?” Jinyoung demanded. He could see how emotional Jaebum was and he felt like it was his responsibility to stop his friend from making an irrational decision.
Jaebum took a deep breath and frowned. “I appreciate your concern, Jinyoung, but I need you to shut up right now.”
“You’re even going to sell him Chocolate Eyes?”
“Yes.”
“There’s something extremely shady about this. What if he’s not willing to leave it as a one-time transaction? What if he wants you to keep working for him and he keeps stealing your music? There’s something fishy about these people. Jaebum, let’s sit down and think about this and do some research before you walk into their den and hand over all of your work to them-”
“I don’t have the time to sit down, those goons could hurt her any moment-”
Jaebum was interrupted by Jackson. The normally loud and talkative boy had been silent ever since Jaebum announced his intention to hand over all of his music in the form of ghostwriting for some money. Jackson reached into his pocket and pressed something into Jaebum’s hand; it was a knife.
“Be careful,” Jackson whispered. “These guys can be dangerous.”
Jaebum nodded.
His backpack felt heavy as he went to the address written on the slip of paper. This strange man had approached him at one of the dance battles; he had repeatedly asked Jaebum to sell him all of his music but Jaebum had refused. He had imagined that he could start his own producing career once he graduated and selling all of his work hadn’t seemed like the best way to start.
But now your life was more important.
The building was dark and dimly lit. Jaebum had to walk through alleyways and ask a few unpleasant people for directions before he finally managed to find the apartment number. It was dirty. He knocked on the door hesitantly.
“Who is it?” a voice asked gruffly from the other side.
“It’s-it’s Jaebum. We talked on the phone? About the music?” he called out.
The door swung open. The man was standing on the other side and he had a huge smile on his face; he welcomed Jaebum into the apartment and clapped him on the back heartily. “Jaebum! Come on in. I heard about your situation. Don’t worry, I’ve got the money ready for you. Here’s my assistant. Hey! Bring the kid the money. Do you have all the music?”
Jaebum swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”
A large and well-built man came out of the adjoining room with a bag. He unzipped it and showed Jaebum that it was filled with currency; Jaebum had never seen so much money in his life. His hands were shaking as he reached into his own backpack and pulled out his music notebooks.
“I-I put everything together here,” Jaebum explained quietly.
“All of it?”
“Yeah, everything I’ve ever written.”
The man nodded sympathetically as he took the notebook and then handed Jaebum the bag of cash. “You’re doing a good thing, kid. I’m sure your girlfriend will be happy about you helping her. You said that the moneylenders are threatening her because of her father’s debt? Poor girl. She must have been so terrified.”
Jaebum swallowed. “Uh-yeah.”
“Okay, kid. You stay in touch and let me know if you ever write some more stuff that you want to sell me, yeah? Shut the door behind you when you leave.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Jaebum’s hands closed around the bag filled with money and he quickly transferred it into his own backpack. Then he hurried out of the apartment. He was about to shut the front door when he suddenly wondered if he should have counted the money out in front of them or even checked to see if it was legitimate. What if they were cheating him because he was just a teenager? Jaebum turned around to go back when he heard voices drifting out of the next room.
“.... stupid kid. I bet he doesn’t even realize how much quality music like this is worth. I’m almost wondering if we should let him live so he can write more stuff for us.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Do you think that pretty little girlfriend of his inspired all these songs? I’m kind of curious about her too. Maybe you should go find her. We’ll have some fun with her once you’ve gotten the money back from the kid. Once he’s dead I guess there won’t be anyone left for her to turn to. I love helpless girls, they’re the best kind.”
Jaebum’s heart clenched with fear.
Fuck. What had he gotten himself into? Fuck.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t let the kid get too far with our money. Finish him and bring me my cash back.”
Jaebum heard the sound of footsteps and ran; he sprinted to the end of the corridor where a supply closet was half open and thrust himself inside. His heartbeat raced and he held his breath as the watched the large bodyguard walk past him through the crack of the door.
Once he was gone, Jaebum  slumped back against the wall and sank to the floor. Fuck. What was he going to do? This man was out to kill him and he was going to hurt you too. What had he gotten himself into? How was he going to escape this? Even if he managed to survive the bodyguard and make off with the money, there was no way to stop them from hurting you. Jaebum banged his fists against the wall in desperation. Something fell out of his pocket and clattered to the floor.
The knife.
Jaebum’s fingers closed around it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“The lawyer said that if I plead guilty and show remorse, the judge would consider my young age and I could get away with a lighter sentence,” Jaebum explained quietly. “Otherwise I would have been locked up for years. There was no way to prove that the cash had been given to me by the man so they presumed I must have stolen it. I really wanted to tell people the truth about what happened. But it wasn’t worth spending a decade in prison.”
You had no words to say. As you looked up at Jaebum, you finally saw him for what he really was. Not a monster or a criminal, but a scared boy who had done something foolish in a moment of fear. No matter how much life hardened Jaebum or how brave he was, that part of him was still there on the inside.
You felt sick.
“You must have been so scared,” you whispered.
He bit his lip. “It’s okay. I was an idiot. I should never have trusted that man in the first place. It was my own desperation and foolishness that got me into that situation.”
“But-”
“Please don’t pity me,” Jaebum told you firmly. “That’s the last thing I want to hear from you.”
Your head was spinning and you had to press your fingers to your temple in order to collect your thoughts. How could you have misunderstood Jaebum so much? How could you have been so quick to turn on a man who loved you and who had put himself in danger for you? You felt pathetic. You had abandoned Yugyeom and misunderstood him the same way.
Were you capable of doing anything right? Or were you bound to keep hurting the people you loved because of your foolishness?
“I-I never even… I never even came to see you when you were in prison,” you remembered miserably. “Because I thought you really went there to rob that man, I thought you had lied to me about not getting involved in anything illegal and because you’d been acting so shady about the whole thing after those goons threatened me-”
“I know,” he replied.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t say that. I know you were scared and I know you felt betrayed,” Jaebum said. He carefully reached out and placed his hand over yours. His warm fingers felt familiar as his thumb gently stroked your palm. Jaebum’s touch had always been comforting. “Life thrusts a lot of things at us and we react how we feel we need to at the time. It’s okay. I’m fine. You’re fine. Yugyeom is fine too, and that’s all that matters.”
You bit your lip. “How can you be so optimistic?”
“Because I want to be happy.”
“Are you?”
Jaebum shrugged. “Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. But right now with you in front of me, I think I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while.”
"I want to be happy too," you mumbled.
Jaebum nodded.
"Don't worry. You will be."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jaebum insisted on taking you home.
As you walked down the street with him quietly, his hand loosely holding yours, you were reminded of all the times you had done this before. You were reminded of how loved and safe you had always felt with Jaebum. How difficult it had been to say goodbye to him at the end of each day.
You missed that feeling.
"Don't worry about Yugyeom too much," Jaebum reassured you quietly. "He was angry and he needed to let it all out but now that he has, I'm sure he'll remember how much he misses you. He used to talk about you all the time. He can’t possibly forget how much he loves you.”
“He seems to love you more.”
Jaebum bit his lip. “He’s just a loving kid. That’s how he is.”
You glanced up at Jaebum and for a brief moment, you wondered what might have happened to your family and Yugyeom if he hadn’t been there to take care of them. If Jaebum hadn’t rescued Yugyeom from the gang and been an older brother to him, if he hadn’t been around to pay for your mother’s medication. Jaebum had fixed all the problems that were yours to handle and you couldn’t understand why he did all these things while you had written him off as a criminal and a monster.
“You should get some sleep,” Jaebum told you as you both approached your house. “You need to relax. Everything will be fine.”
You glanced down at your intertwined hands.
“Everything’s only fine because you take care of it,” you mumbled. It was slowly sinking in exactly how much you owed Jaebum, how much he had done with the sole purpose of making your life happier. How was anyone capable of such selfless love? Why had he chosen you of all people to care for? You looked up at him and frowned. “Why do you keep taking care of everything?”
Jaebum looked down at you quietly. “I don’t know.”
“I hate how much I need you,” you told him.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, because you both knew the truth in that statement. No matter how much you denied it, the fact was was right there in front of your eyes.
You needed Jaebum.
You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but it was probably you who wrapped your arms around Jaebum and wove your fingers tightly onto the fabric of his jacket. You needed to feel him close to you. You needed him to reassure you that everything would be okay, that even if you couldn’t handle life he would be there to help you through it. You needed to feel safe and the only time you felt that way was when you were in Lim Jaebum’s arms.
Jaebum had never imagined that he would get to hold you again. When you buried your face into his chest he was reminded of the cold nights in prison thinking about you, wondering where you were and how much you hated him. He remembered thinking that he would never get to hold you like this again, that he would never get to feel you in his arms once more. He would never get to see your beautiful eyes smiling back at him sweetly.
“I love you,” he whispered.
You leaned up and kissed him. It was a soft kiss; filled with hesitation and relief and gratitude and trust, and all the other wild mixture of emotions that were spinning through your mind at the moment. Jaebum’s lips captured yours tentatively. He didn’t want to lose you. He didn’t want to push you so far when you were so overwhelmed. He pecked your lips softly and brought his hands up to capture your face in them as he looked down at you.
“We don’t have to do this now,” he told you softly. “We can take this slow and talk about-”
“Noona?”
You ripped yourself away from Jaebum at the sound of Yugyeom’s voice. Your younger brother was standing on the front porch and staring at the both of you with wide eyes. You felt a sudden shiver down your spine.
Jaebum spoke first. “Yugyeom-”
“I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour, hyung,” Yugyeom said. His voice sounded thick and hoarse; like he had been crying. His ears were flushed red. “But you weren’t answering your phone. I thought you must have been working. You were fucking around with my sister?”
You flinched. “Yugyeom,I can explain-”
“Yeah, please do,” he snapped. His voice was trembling as he stepped closer to the both of you. He sounded angry. “Because barely twenty-four hours ago you were calling Jaebum-hyung a criminal and now you’re messing around with him? What sort of fucked up logic is that, noona? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I-”
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Yugyeom. We’ve known each other for a long time now,” Jaebum explained calmly. He took a deep breath. “I knew your noona long before I met you. We used to date in high school.”
Yugyeom’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Jaebum replied. “But they were painful and personal memories to me so I didn’t like talking about them.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yugyeom…”
Yugyeom’s dark eyes had widened in horror. “Oh my god, noona, you’re Chocolate Eyes. You’re the girl Jaebum-hyung used to be in love with who left him after he got arrested. But that means…” he turned and looked at Jaebum. Something behind his eyes seemed to break. “That means you knew that I was her brother.”
Jaebum hesitated. “I-yes…”
“So all this time,” Yugyeom began slowly. “All this time, when you rescued me from the gang and when you gave me a job and all those times you told me that I could trust you and count on you, you weren’t doing those things for me. You didn’t do any of that for me. You took me in and cared for me because you used to fuck around with my sister. I thought the world of you but you just looked at me and saw her, didn’t you?” he cried. Tears were brimming in his eyes.
“What? Yugyeom, no-”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. His dark gaze suddenly looked ashamed. “I guess I’m always the burden.”
Your heart broke. “No-”
You reached out to wrap your arms around Yugyeom, to hold your little brother tightly and reassure him that he was not a burden and that you would always love him more than anything in the world.
But Yugyeom shoved your arms away roughly and gave you one last heartbroken look before he ran down the street. You started to run after him but Jaebum silently held you back. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to his chest.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Give him some space. He’ll come back.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Noona,” Yugyeom asked suddenly. “Noona, am I annoying?”
You barely glanced up from your homework. Yugyeom was always asking you stupid questions while you were trying to study and you were too busy struggling to find the right formula for the algebra problem.
“Yes, you’re very annoying,” you told him simply.
Yugyeom bit his lip.
“Oh. Okay.”
You lifted your head and turned around to look at him, immediately sensing something wrong. That wasn’t Yugyeom’s usual curious tone. He sounded upset. You saw him sitting in the middle of your bed while picking at the loose strings of the sheets miserably. You sighed and closed your books. You sat next to him and patted his mushroom-shaped hair.
“Did somebody call our Yugyeom-ie annoying?” you asked.
He pouted. “No.”
“You can’t lie to me. Noona knows everything.”
“... Yes,” he admitted. His lower lip stuck out in a small pout. “This girl at school said I was annoying. She told me I was being too loud and to shut up.”
You frowned. How dare some stupid girl tell your adorable brother that he was annoying? Kids were meant to be loud anyway. “You should have told her to shut up too.”
Yugyeom smiled sheepishly. “Really?”
“Sure. Who isn’t loud during playtime? She was being a…” you cleared your throat before you used an unpleasant word in front of him. “Well. Not a nice person.”
“But you didn’t answer my question. Do I annoy you?”
“Sure you do,” you told him lightly. “You annoy me all the time. But that’s okay, because family are the people who you can annoy but they’ll still love you. You might be annoyed by what they DO, but you’ll still love THEM, you, know? I’ll always love you no matter how much you annoy me. Because you’re my brother and that’s how things are.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“But the girl at school won’t, right?”
You chuckled. “Yugyeom, do you have a crush on this girl?”
His ears turned red. “What? No!”
“Ooooooh, Yugyeom had a crush on a girl,” you sang playfully, poking him in the shoulder. Yugyeom’s face slowly blushed red and he shoved at you before hurrying out of your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him. You smiled and turned back to your homework.
You would always love Yugyeom.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yugyeom didn’t come home that night.
You had to go back to university in two days but you couldn’t bring yourself to even think about packing. You spent most of the night awake and terrified that Yugyeom was roaming around on the streets somewhere alone, that the gang who was after his life would find him and hurt him. He wasn’t answering your phone calls or Jaebum’s.
In the early hours of the morning, Jaebum got a call from Bambam saying that Yugyeom had arrived at his place and that he was upset, but safe. He didn’t want to talk to either of you.
“It’s time to take your medicines,” you told your mother quietly as you entered her bedroom. The old woman was still lying in bed and looking as frail as ever. She had become a shell of the person that she used to be and you could see that something in her eyes was broken. You didn’t want to ask her why. You squeezed her hands. “Are you okay, Mom?”
She took a deep breath and looked at you calmly. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden.”
Your throat felt tight. “Mom…”
“I should have taken better care of you both but I can barely get out of bed. I know that the only reason Yugyeom has been able to afford my medicines is because Jaebum gives him money. I know that you’ve been having such a hard time at university because you need to work so much. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do better. I’m sorry.”
You squeezed her hand as tears blurred your vision. “Mom, you did fine.”
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“You know I love you, right? And Yugyeom too. I’m so proud of him. I’m proud of you both.”
“I know. He knows and I know, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine,” you promised her, although you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if she would be fine or if Yugyeom would be fine or if you would be fine. You weren’t sure of anything.
You just wanted it all to end.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I don’t know if I can go back,” you admitted shakily.
Jaebum sat on your bed quietly as he watched you pack. You had already overstayed your vacation and there were classes, assignments and papers you had to write in order to finish your graduation. Everything was waiting there but your heart wouldn’t let you leave.
“You have to graduate,” Jaebum reminded you quietly.
“I-I could take a semester off,” you mumbled as you placed a t-shirt half-heartedly in the suitcase. You swallowed and looked up at him with a frown. “But that would delay my graduation and it might mean that I would lose my scholarship. I don’t think I could afford to pay tuition. What should I do, Jaebum?”
He bit his lip. “You should go finish your degree.”
“Still? Even though things have gotten this bad in my absence?” you wondered. You pressed your fingers to your temples. “Then Yugyeom will never forgive me. And Mom… she keeps talking about how she might die soon and it’s scaring me, Jaebum.”
“She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she gets the medical treatment she needs.”
“But-”
“You can’t abandon your education now. What will become of the last two years of your hard work?” Jaebum asked you with a frown. He placed an arm around your shoulder and squeezed you comfortingly. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much. It’s all okay.”
“You keep saying that but things only keep getting worse, Jaebum-”
The doorbell rang. Your eyes widened in surprise and Jaebum gestured for you to stay put while he went to check out who it was. You sat down and pressed your fingers to your temples again. It was too much to hope that Yugyeom had come back. He had been staying at Bambam’s and had refused to talk to either you or Jaebum for days. Your felt nauseous as you continued to toss clothes into your suitcase. Jaebum was taking a long time to return.
There was a sharp knock on the bedroom door.
“Hey,” Jaebum peeked into your room with a small smile. “Look who’s here.”
He stepped aside to reveal Yugyeom standing behind him. Your eyes widened in relief at the sight of your little brother safe and unhurt. “Yugyeom!” you cried. He looked a little thin and his fists were clenched at his side. He was staring at the floor but you hurried over to him and cupped his cheeks. “Yugyeom, are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you! How could you not even answer our calls?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You know you’re not a burden, right? You’ve never been a burden to me,” you blurted out rapidly. You had to blink back your tears.  “You’re my family. How could you be a burden? I love you so much. There’s nobody in the world I care about more and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, noona made a mistake, I’m so sorry.”
Yugyeom didn’t say anything. He merely stood there silently, staring at the floor. Jaebum gave you a soft smile and then squeezed Yugyeom’s shoulder.
“I’m going downstairs so that you both can talk,” he told you.
Jaebum left and to your surprise, Yugyeom quietly entered your room and sat on your bed. His dark eyes looked around at your suitcase and clothes laid out everywhere silently. His hands were clasped in his lap tightly. You didn’t know what to say to him.
“Are you leaving for university?” Yugyeom asked you after a long and painful silence.
You bit your lip and looked down at the suitcase. It was only half-packed. You sat next to Yugyeom and quickly took both of his hands in yours.
“Do you want me to stay?” you demanded. “I can stay. Just say the word and I’ll stay, Yugyeom.”
He shook his head. “No, you should go.”
“O-okay.”
He took a deep breath. “Noona?”
“Yeah?”
Yugyeom turned to look at you and you saw tears in his dark eyes. For a moment, he suddenly looked like your adorable little brother again. There was pain and hurt in his eyes but there was also a tiny bit of hope. Something inside of him had given up.
“Noona, can you take me with you?” he choked out.
Your eyes widened and you nodded instantly. You threw your arms around Yugyeom and hugged him tightly, leaving him breathless. “Of course,” you said without missing a beat. “Of course I’ll take you with me. Let’s all go together. We’ll-we’ll find a better hospital for Mom and you can go to a better school. It might be hard for a while because I have to finish university but we’ll find some way to make money until I get a regular job-”
His arms slowly and carefully wrapped around you. “We can… we can sell this house, right?” he asked timidly.
You paused and then nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.”
“I don’t really care if we sell the house as long as the three of us are together,” he admitted quietly.
You laughed and nodded. Of course. Of course. What did the house matter? What was important that your family was all in one place. You decided that anything would be fine as long as your family was happy. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you fondly stroked Yugyeom’s hair and felt his own racking sobs.
“We’ll be fine,” you promised. And for the first time, you actually believed what you were saying. “We’ll be fine.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Epilogue (Five Years Later)
“Noona, she threw up on me again,” Yugyeom complained.
He entered the kitchen holding your crying one-year old daughter at arm’s length while the front of his t-shirt was covered in baby puke. You turned off the stove and groaned. This was the third time this week. You took the crying child from him and gently rocked her in order to console her while you cleaned the puke off her face at the sink.
“I told you not to toss her in the air!” you scolded your brother.
“But she likes it. She always giggles,” Yugyeom defended himself.
“And then she throws up on you and since you are a complete man-child incapable of doing your own laundry, I have to wash both your clothes and hers and whatever else the puke got on. What are you going to do when you have your own children, Yugyeom? Are you going to be this careless?” you scolded him angrily while the baby wailed. You held to your chest and rocked her. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweetie, Uncle Yugyeom is just bad. It’s okay.”
Yugyeom pouted sadly. “I’ll go change.”
You frowned. “Go on, then.”
He was just about to step out of the kitchen when the sound of the front door opening caused him to stop in his tracks. Jaebum entered the kitchen calmly, taking off his jacket while frowning at you all.
“Why is the house always so noisy?” he complained.
You rolled your eyes. “Ask Yugyeom.”
Yugyeom merely pouted and slouched out of the kitchen in order to go and clean himself off. You sighed and glanced at the dinner cooking on the stove before realizing that it was about to overcook. You quickly handed the crying child to your husband. “Can you hold her for a second? Dinner is about to burn.”
Jaebum blinked. “Uh-sure-”
“God, I have to do everything around here.”
“Actually, I have something to tell you. Can we talk for a minute?” Jaebum asked you hopefully. He was looking at you eagerly but you were too busy stirring at the dinner on the stove. You had a lot to do; you had to finish dinner and then take a shower and then free yourself for a conference call in the evening with some work colleagues-
“Can it wait?” you asked. “I’m busy.”
“This is kind of big, actually.”
“I know but I’ve been so overwhelmed all day and now stupid Yugyeom had to go and get puke all over himself again so I’ll have to do a round of laundry before bed.”
“I’ll do the laundry. Just listen.”
You turned around and raised an eyebrow. He was holding your baby in one arm (she had miraculously stopped crying) and the other hand was holding something book-shaped. You squinted at it more closely and realized that it was a music album. You stared at him and your eyes widened.
“Oh my god. It was today? The album release?” you asked in shock. You felt terrible. “Jaebum, I completely forgot-”
Jaebum smiled and opened the album to show you. It had taken a lot of time for people to accept him in the city; his prison record didn’t do him any favours but he hadn’t given up on his dream. One month ago, Jaebum had signed a contract with a large music company who had hired him as a producer for some famous hip-hop artists. He flipped open the track list and right there at the top, with the lyrics and production credited to Lim Jaebum was the song.
Chocolate Eyes.
You beamed at your husband. Jaebum’s own eyes were shining and he chuckled when your daughter squealed in delight and reached for the album with her tiny little fists. He put her down on the floor and gave her the album to sit down and play with before turning to you.
“What do you think?” Jaebum asked you hopefully.
You kissed him softly.
“I think I love you,” you told him with a smile.
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430 notes · View notes
7dys · 6 years
Text
roomies?
Tumblr media
hey again im a dummy sorry
I literally could NOT think of a title im sorry here's a good ole roommate au though
request: HHhHhHhh u write so well I'm crying :(( jshsd can I get a roommate!au with jae from day6 ? with a possible fluff at the end ? eye emoji ? sjdshd tysm !! -anon
word count: 5137 she's a doozy
a/n: I must have gotten this request like... a year and a half ago at least anon if you’re seeing this I apologize but I've finally done it!!! hope u all enjoy the workings of my crackhead brain
right-o lets get to it
okay so when you moved out of your dorms after graduation you weren’t expecting it to be this God Damn Expensive
on top of buying groceries and affording your tiny ass one bedroom a girlie was struggling
so !! you decided to look into finding a roommate
obviously not to move in with you…. there’s only one bedroom okay
but like searching for an open spot with someone
you found a few that seemed nice but were all wayyyyyyy too far from your job like you would be losing money paying so much in transportation
finally you stumbled across the most cursed roommate flyer ever
but it was in a super convenient location !! so you read it anyways
it was written in GREEN and PURPLE comic sans and there were multiple pictures of chickens and cheesy memes randomly placed around the text in the middle
which by the way was a list of 7 bullet points that said this:
1:my name is jae
2:i am broke
3:i have an extra room waiting for /YOU/
4:i am in a band and will write a song about you if that’s what it takes
5:i am unreasonably good at untangling headphones and i will untangle things for you
6:i have a pet cat and if you don’t like that walk away from this flyer immediately
7:please
and then at the bottom was an octopus who’s 8 legs had his contact information on it and they were cut so you could just pull off a slip
if you were an ordinary person you would not have taken one
lucky us !!!! you’re just crazy
and you take one of the god damn octopus legs
you are understandably the only person who has taken one so far
you giggle to yourself at your own SHEER STUPIDITY and then send a text to the number
you: hi !! i saw ur ad abt looking for a roommate and i’m interested! my name is y/n and i’m still in college so u don’t have to worry about me being like . crazy im just stressed
chicken guy??: oh my god really it’s been a month since i put up that poster!! also mood
you: you put up …. only one poster …… and it was that ……
chicken guy??: it worked for u didn’t it
you: . touché
chicken guy??: anyways you can come by later today and check it out if you’d like? i swear i’m not crazy either but feel free to bring a friend if you’re worried for safety reasons or whatever
you: nah i prefer to live life on The Edge plus none of my friends would be helpful in a life threatening situation
chicken guy??: i don’t know u but i’m already worried for u pls get here soon
hehehe u liked this guy
he was funny if anything
and you tended to find all the weirdos of society and befriend them so it was safe to assume he was no different than your usual crowd
true to your word you go to the address he sent you alone later that afternoon and cheerily knock on the door
while you wait for him to answer you survey the outside
it’s honestly ….. kind of a cluttered mess but in a cute way
like some sort of kleptomaniac crow somehow got an apartment and displayed all of the strange things it found
except it’s all music related
there is a jar that is filled to the BRIM with guitar picks.
who needs that many guitar picks
“me, i do”
you squeak and turn around and go
“??????”
and the tall thin man in the door just nods
“i knew what you were thinking”
“...that’s fair”
and then he seems to remember what exactly is going on and extends one long fingered hand for a shake
“hi! you must be y/n :)) i’m jae”
you take his hand …. that shits warm
how long have you been outside that your hand is so cold when you touch him you SHIVER
he’s like oh my god come in please you’re shivering jesus christ
and you just smile and tell him it’s nice to meet him !!! what a positive polly
you come in and are pleasantly surprised that the inside has just as much personality as the poster !!
and thankfully less green and purple and ….. comic sans
you are immediately greeted by the largest tabby cat you’ve ever seen
“ah that’s my big boy mister crackers”
“his name … is mister crackers”
“....yes”
“love it. tell me more”
he smiles so BIG and WIDE when you say that you think you’re looking at the sun
as he explains more things about the apartment and points at things here and there you half listen and half just. watch him
you didn’t know what to expect from that as but it’s fair to say you lucked out as far as possible roommates go
he was tall and had shiny dark hair and glasses that made his cute little eyes even littler
and he was in a BAND that is so cool
plus he’s like …. pretty or smth
smh FOCUS
you’re gnna have to share a bathroom with him which is … scary but you looked in there and it looks clean at least
also there’s some candles in there
……. he definitely takes candlelit baths like a widow just returning from her rich husbands funeral after he left her everything in the will
king
he seems nice and funny and you appear to have a similar sense of humor …. you’re in
you’re about to tell him you’ll think about it so that you don’t come off as too excited
but then change your mind and jump up and down and tell him you’re IN and you’ll help cover the rent and cook sometimes and bake him cookies and
he stops you after cookies with a hand over your mouth
“you are perfect. please move in immediately”
you smile under his hand and hope he can’t feel your cheeks getting absolutely BLAZING hot
(he 100% can)
((and he thinks it’s really CUTE))
you grab the hand that’s over your mouth and give it a shake and tell him in a southern accent that it’s a deal pardner and he SNORTS
it was cute
you move in as quickly as possible and his band mates come over to help you move everything !!
you’re high key embarrassed to let all these literally gorgeous men into your tiny little apartment and touch all your stuff
but after talking to each of them for like 5 seconds you quickly see they’re all a bunch of nerds and you would trust them with your life
wonpil loses his MIND when he sees your little plushy collection on your bed he thinks you’re the cutest person on the whole planet
he tells jae that’s he’s the luckiest man on earth when he thinks you’re not listening
you ARE though and you stop what you’re doing to give him a big ol hug and tell him he’s an angel
sungjin disapproves of how you’ve been living and asks if you’ve been eating enough and then turns on jae with a finger like U BETTER FEED HER
brian is so intimidatingly beautiful you can’t look him in the eye until you’re all eating ramen and you watch him choke to near death and then immediately go make himself another cup
relatable
dowoon looked lost and you immediately took him under your wing and you’ve been babying him ever since
you made jae take the box full of your plates and mugs and such bc it was too heavy for your Little Angel
“please y/n i am literally the strongest of all of us let me carry things. jae is going to keel over and die”
“nonsense !!! you’re a growing boy you need rest”
“please i literally punched a HOLE in a WALL on ACCIDENT and jae has a grass allergy i promise i will be fine”
regardless of the absolute struggle it was to coordinate everyone and get all your stuff to jae’s you are FINALLY moved in
your room is obviously not the master but you weren’t gonna be like Sorry Jae I Need The Master Bedroom Move Out Xoxo
it’s cute and you brought your own furniture and some posters and decor that you had all over your old apartment
basically you just condensed it all into one room
and the boys gave you a housewarming present and it was just a picture of them performing with you badly photoshopped next to jae playing the triangle
it wasn’t even framed they just taped it to the wall
typical
after all the moving in the boys leave you and jae to settle in but the moving was TIRING so
you’re already asleep on the couch
……….typical
jae just shakes his head and covers you with one of his large sweatshirts because for some reason he only owns one blanket and it’s on his bed and he doesn’t know where yours are
he’s literally HELPLESS
you wake up with a dry mouth at 3 in the morning and smile at jaes sweater barely covering your curled up body
you hold it up and it says “i like ugly” in tiny font .
this boy is perfect
you put it on and climb in your actual bed and decide to make him breakfast tomorrow for being such an angel
you set an ALARM that’s commitment if i’ve ever seen it
you make him pancakes and and coffee and when he comes out wearing a sweatshirt similar to the one you’re wearing and the rattiest sweatpants you’ve ever seen he doesn’t even notice anything at first
nd then he rubs his eyes and just stares
“y/n i’m gonna cry i haven’t had breakfast since 2008”
you laugh and launch yourself at him because he’s That cute
“you’re so cute thank you for letting me be your roommate !!!!”
he ruffles your hair and then sets his chin on top of your head
“thanks for breakfast, sunshine. even if this is also as early as i’ve been awake since 2008”
you pinch his side at that and then go to serve him a heaping pile of pancakes bc he’s skinny and he needs it
“alright noodle eat up!!”
“did you just call me noodle?”
“yes, look at yourself”
“.. that’s fair”
you guys chat over breakfast and thank GOD it’s a sunday and neither of you have shit to do
other than laundry
you force yourself not to mom him when he just puts it all in one machine and sets it on cold and leaves .
it hurts tho
instead of being productive while you wait you have multiple staring contests
jae keeps accusing you of saying he blinked when he didn’t
“i didn’t blink my eyes just look like that !!!! they are small and asian are you racist or something??”
“shut UP i won >:((((“
after the laundry is done you go your separate ways and jae heads out to band practice and it’s your very first time …
alone in your own apartment
naturally you take off your pants and dance around for at least 10 minutes
you didn’t even realize that since your roommate is a dude you can’t just ….. not wear pants
a travesty !!!
honestly let him try to stop you from going braless though. let him try.
you laze around and try to get caught up on your favorite shows and organize your room and then it gets late and you decide you’re going to make a MEAL for dinner
like a WHOLE . MEAL.
we’re going all out
you tie your hair up and put on your cooking sweater which is just a disgusting old sweatshirt covered with stains that hangs almost to the middle of your thighs
everyone needs one
next step is MUSIC because if you cook without it you just feel sad
we’re pulling out the oldies mix that’s right
i’m talking ELO, reo speedwagon, the doobie brothers we’re getting DOWN !!!!!
perhaps we’ll sprinkle some queen in there in honor of the movie that just came out
regardless you’re head banging while you chop vegetables
extremely unsafe but entirely necessary
jae comes home in the middle of your dramatic rendition of bohemian rhapsody where you attempt to sing every single part including the operatic harmonies
you are literally on your knees singing dramatically when the door opens and he comes out of the foyer to see YOU on the FLOOR wearing NO PANTS and singing QUEEN
you may just be ……. the most perfect woman he’s ever met in his life
he joins you because what the fuck else is he supposed to do
he comes in on the high GALILEO and then air guitars THE FUCK out of the next part while you literally thrash
i’m telling you it was one of the most taxing things you’ve ever done
you finish out the song and then fist bump for respect
“something smells good but also something smells burning”
and you scream because OH NO THE GARLIC BREAD
((it’s not even that burnt jae is just weird about smells …… grass allergy headass))
after the fake crisis is averted you finish up and the both of you FEAST while watching cheesy christmas movies and booing at love
you’re both . that bitter huh
also want to note that at some point you discreetly put sleep shorts on so you could pretend you hadn’t been pantless and possibly flashing your day of the week underwear to your roommate of like 36 hours
and when you’re literally seconds away from sleep jae boops you on the nose
like . kinda hard
“hey go to sleep this couch is not comfortable i promise”
“shut up you’re BONEY everything is uncomfortable for you”
“okay now you’re just being mean get your ass in bed”
“sorryyy :((((“
“yea yea go away weirdo”
you tell him goodnight and hug him extra tight in apology and he pats your head so like. all is forgiven hehe
that night when you flop in bed and wrap yourself around one of your pillows you’re pretty damn pleased with your roommate choice
time skip you and jae have almost 0 boundaries other than the necessary ones that keep you Platonic Friends and not Married Couple
which is basically just any affection beyond hugs nd the occasional snuggle
you heard me
the boys are in your apartment . all the time
literally all the time
and wonpil drunk cries to your stuffed animals about never finding love
PLEASE someone save him please
nights like those you and jae go full parent mode because everyone’s drunk so sungjin can’t do it himself
he’s too busy literally breakdancing in your living room
he moved the coffee table out of the way and everything
after everyone is put in beds (dowoon gets to deal with wonpil‘s cry snuggling … sorry)
you and jae always collapse on the couch actually exhausted because you both have weak cardiovascular health and you just carried four full grown men
you end up leaned up against each other for support and then sagging until one of you falls over onto their back and the other just follows
it varies which one of you ends up the big spoon and it’s so CUTE when you do
you think jae pushes you over a little because he likes it too but he would rather die than admit he likes being snuggled so
you’ll fall over onto your back and jae will pretend to be surprised but then wriggle up your body until he’s half on top of you and half on the side with his head resting just under your chin
his hair is FLUFFY and it TICKLES you so you have to move it so you can sleep !
that’s what you tell yourself when you comb his hair down with your fingers
you pretend not to hear him sigh and feel it against the skin of your neck
you also pretend he hasn’t wrapped both arms around your rib cage like a vice and is not letting go anytime soon
cutie :(
he tucks his forehead into your neck and you physically feel his whole body relax and wow . so this is what peace is like
of course it lasts for 5 whole seconds before wonpil let’s out an actual wail and dowoon is urgently whispering shut the fuck up PLEASE SHUT UP
jae snorts against your neck and gives a minute shake of his head, splaying his hand across your ribs and tugging you farther into his hold
first of all. that ticKLES and it takes every shred of self control not to squirm
second: at this point he’s practically trying to fuse your bodies together really you cannot physically get closer than you are
you’re absolutely enjoying it though so you wrap your arms around him and settle in with one leg flopped over his and a blanket you pulled off the floor haphazardly thrown over the two of you
he’s such a SNUGGLE BUG you can barely believe it
he just loves to pretend he’s some angsty lonely dude who plays guitar and SKATEBOARDS like the giant cliche he is
when actually he is a Big Baby
he texts you to calculate the tip for him whenever he’s out to eat with the boys because he “swore off math in 2014”
he asks you if his outfits are okay nd he always looks like an old man but you still tell him it’s good
you think so at least <33
you can read each other so well it’s scary
you’ll walk in the living room and jae will be like NOPE i’m leaving
and you’re like what :(((((((
and he’s like i just KNOW you’re about to yell about random shit we both personally have no control over and it gives me ~anxiety~
“okay well i was just gonna say that global warming is a real proble-“
“LA LA LA I CANT HEAR YOU”
(he thinks global warming is real he just. doesn’t want to talk abt it bc he knows you will Never Shut Up once you start)
you hand him coffee on his way out in the mornings when you know he has a long day ahead and he pats you on the head in thanks every time
jae cooks for you too !!! we love equality
he sticks to pretty simple stuff but he was living alone for a while so he had to know at least a little so he could like. survive
and believe it or not the both of you are not always sunshine and daffodils
when you’re upset he always knows and makes sure to be there if you need anything but basically just leave you alone
he has a tendency to misread the situation and think it’s still cool for him to joke around but you are Actually Angry
and it’s gotten him into lots of trouble so instead he is supportive from afar and does his best to be not offensive
when he’s upset he’s usually super mopey and writes sad song lyrics all day
you forcefully drag him out of his room to make sure he eats and do your best to cheer him up by whatever means necessary
you’ve embarrassed yourself just to hear that laugh of his
the one where he opens his mouth really wide and gasps a little and his eyes squeeze shut
……… fuckin cute
anyways you guys are just dating already but don’t even realize
until one of your coworkers asks you to come out after work and you say no
and it’d be Friendly and Normal if you did it because you promised jae you would cook that night
or you had made plans with him or something
but you were just uncomfortable doing any of that kind of stuff with some Not Jae guy
and after that your eyes are ~wide open~ sister
you find yourself giggling a little too long when he jokes around with you
you can’t help it okay his presence is like a RUSH of serotonin
and imagining yourself doing couple things with jae
turning your usual dinner outings into dates in your head where he holds your hand as he drives and sits next to you in the booth so he can sling a long arm around your shoulders
you let yourself become the slightest bit more affectionate
tucking yourself under his chin every night before you split to your separate rooms
tugging on his hand to get his attention and then playing with his long fingers
you know he notices because god damn how could he not notice ??
he has literally bad vision but he can read the signs
This Ain’t His First Rodeo
he is hesitant to become involved with someone he depends on so much
the age old dilemma of wanting someone but then being afraid to lose them because of it
he wouldn’t admit it but you were quite literally the light of his life
he had been so lonely in his apartment before, living off of instant ramen simply because he didn’t want to cook anything and holing up in his room writing about loneliness and being lost
then you showed up with your bright eyes and took every weird quirk of his in stride and nagged him about eating better and washing his clothes “properly”
(he thinks when you say “properly” you just mean your own way but that’s besides the point)
he even liked when you would take his glasses and wear them and do terrible impressions of him because you looked so CUTE in them
he thinks you’d look cute in all of his belongings but again
are the both of you ready to cross that line?
of course u are lol what else am i supposed to write about
fourth wall break: over
okay so wonpil keeps coming over when he knows jae is gone to try to convince you that the two of you are in love and should get married and have little mini jaes and whatnot
you inform him that he’s CRAZY and that jae thinks of you as a roommate and friend and that’s IT
and as much as you want to think you’re denying wonpil because you’re embarrassed you’re starting to actually believe it
he’s never shown any sort of real interest in you that is out of the realm of Friendly Roommates
and yeah sometimes you guys snuggle but wonpil is literally wrapped around your right arm at this very second so . not valid
wonpil is basically BEGGING at this point for you to see what he sees
which is jae actually being sickeningly in love with you
even if you did believe him at all …. that’s an exaggeration and you both know it
“y/n he’s writing a SONG. about YOU. that boy love loves you. big time”
“people write songs for their friends all the time”
“not jae !! he’s never written a song that hasn’t been about love or loss, you choose which one you’ll be”
“oh shit that was deep”
“i know right? can you believe i came up with that on the spot? wig.”
and then you smack him for being a fckin twitter stan and continue with your argument
jae walks in just as it starts to get physical
wonpil is latched onto your leg as you squirm and wiggle around trying to throw the LEECH off your leg
jae detaches him with a well placed finger between his ribs that makes him squeal Very Loudly and let go
unfortunately you had been leaning all your weight to one side to counteract wonpil and when he let go you went careening sideways
jae just barely grabbed your wrist and yanked you back up
and then you stumbled into him and he stumbles and you both almost fall before getting your shit together
you’re standing pressed together with his feet spread apart so that you’re a little bit closer to his height as you latch onto his shoulders for balance
one of his arms slides around your middle to hold you against him while he used the other to make sure his guitar case doesn’t just fall off his shoulder
wonpil is on the ground holding his rib cage and fake crying when jae goes
“enough wonpil i could hear you yelling like a block away what is going on here???”
you peep out a nothing !!! at the same time wonpil yells
“i’m trying to convince y/n of TRUE LOVE that’s what”
“oh …. y/n is in love?”
“y/n is in DENIAL”
you plead with him to stop please wonpil
and he is relentlessly ranting about how you refuse to “see the light” and how happy you could be
jae sees that this is actually upsetting you from your flushed cheeks and furrowed eyebrows and the way you clutch the hem of his sweatshirt
“alright that’s enough. wonpil go home you lovesick fool”
wonpil trudges out and gives you a sneaky kiss on the cheek
jae has to hold you back when you lunge after him
after you’ve calmed down he slowly slides his arm from being wrapped around your middle to just barely brushing your back
you didn’t mean to get so worked up but like . wonpil is good at that okay
and he was basically going to out you to jae ????:??:!:?:$,&3!:8;
that’s a stressful event
you feel your breathing even out and you sigh in frustration
“i’m sorry y/n, he does that sometimes :/“
“it’s fine it was just . a lot”
“yeah”
you stand in silence for a good minute when jae drops his hand from your back and ducks his chin
“was he…. telling the truth?”
and you want to die because wonpil wasn’t even there and you’re still getting outed !!!!
“which part?”
“the part where you’re in love with someone”
“i wouldn’t say ….. love”
“oh”
and this is just painful so you take a deep breath and just
“okay listen i really really get it if you don’t return the feelings and it’s fine i just … please don’t kick me out i really love living here and all your band members coming over and i even love wonpil !!!! even though he’s a little crazy !!! and i love your fat cat mr.crackers and dancing around to old green day and watching shitty romance movies just to make fun of them and i just don’t want this to end!! we can forget it ever happened and i swear i’ll just. get over it or something and i-“
“okay don’t get too hasty about forgetting it i haven’t even said anything yet”
you stare at him wide eyed
“i’m sorry . what.”
“i can’t believe it took wonpil bodily attacking you for you to say that”
and then he drops his guitar with a thud and steps into your space to slide a warm hand around the nape of your neck
he pulls you closer and stops when your noses brush
“is this okay?” he whispers
“why are you whispering?” you whisper back
“shut up” he breathes right back
he smiles and then tugs you forward and tilts his head down to plant his lips on yours
he’s soft and tentative and pulls away after just a few seconds to press kisses to your cheeks and the tip of your nose
“if it’s worth anything i like you too,”
“are you kidding me that’s worth EVERYTHING ???”
and then you pounce on him and bury your face into the dip of his shoulder because you can’t reach his neck
damn skyscraper
he stumbles at first but then smiles down at your flushed face absolutely squished against his bony chest
he thinks it’s cute though and cranes his neck down to lay his cheek across the top of your head and loop his arms around you
dating jae is even better than you thought it would be !!!
wonpil wasn’t lying when he said jae was writing a song for you and when he plays it for you and sings so sweetly you cry your fckin eyes out
and he’s laughing and pulling you in to situate you on his lap with his guitar long forgotten leaning against the couch and asking you when you became such a softie
you look up at him with tears in your eyelashes and love in your eyes and he positively melts
he kisses your forehead and ruffles your hair and calls you kid like he didn’t just profess his undying love for you through song like the cliche he is
the two of you spend the whole night wrapped up in each other, expressing all the affection you’d missed out on in the last few weeks
you hadn’t realized how…. touchy jae is until now
he can barely function without his good morning kiss
“y/n i am a weak, weak man pls give me a kiss or else i won’t make it through the day,”
..you also hadn’t realized he was this dramatic lmao
the boys supremely unsurprised when they burst into your apartment to find you straddling jae with your fingers in his hair
i’m telling you they don’t even PAUSE in their steps they just look at you and acknowledge it
and then brian just …. takes a seat next to you guys and is like
“are y’all done i wanna watch this redbox movie and return it tonight before i gotta pay for another day”
you’re both cherry red in the face and untangle yourselves in astonishment at his casual tone
dowoon is rummaging around in your fridge and calls out from the kitchen that the two of you were the most obvious people on the planet and that the rest of the band was in the same boat as wonpil they just weren’t absolute psychos
wonpil: this is true but i resent that
all of you settle back into a comfortable dynamic
you’re super happy that your relationship with jae didn’t make anything weird
it probably helped that the very first night that jae mentioned in passing that you were cute and the band had never let it go since
it also probably helped when wonpil pointed out your actual literal heart eyes the first time you saw jae
……………. they were just waiting for it to happen tbh
anyways
nowadays you spend your mornings parting ways with a kiss and your evenings snuggled up together on the couch exchanging eskimo kisses and sweet nothings and you couldn’t be happier
<3
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destroyyourbinder · 6 years
Text
looking at instagram
There are hazy pictures of children having fun in spring-green new grass, the sun or maybe the filter sparkling. A photo of a man laughing, relaxed, he's wearing a soft cotton shirt, and it's not wrinkled. Dynamic black and white photos of people my acquaintance knows, a coworker, herself, their skin texture looks like granite, like muslin, like acrylic sculpting medium, like something under lights that's very "Interesting," to men in glasses holding wine and pontificating like bowerbirds strutting over little pebbles and bits of fur.
I'm angry. I look like dough, like a laundry pile at the end of a week, maybe two. I'm custard piled on itself, dingy men's shorts pulled up way too high over the bottom dollop. Nobody's captivated by my pock marks or my uneven peach fuzz. I look like who my mom was afraid I was going to be, except I'm not even that exciting, I'm a monster made of felt cut out by shaky kindergarten hands and unraveling tape. Dandruff gets under my fingers when I scratch my head. There's no social media where I can post the sensation of my stomach gurgling after I eat fistfuls of mozzarella from the fridge, and nobody would Like it anyway. When I shave my head there is no confident, bold, sharp picture I can take, tattooed and muscular arm curved up over my new haircut to casually hold the phone. There's just tiny bits of hair in the bathroom rug and yellow light that makes my face look puffier than I thought it was.
I feel the bile rise in my throat. So-and-so bought a house, my sister bought a house, friend after friend after friend is having a dinner party, moving to California, getting married at a place with "Estate" in the name. There's pictures, lots of pictures, of breezy nights and big smiles, a colorful world of delight and ease, everything I wanted from life incarnated in the bodies of straight people and lesbians prettier and happier than me. I pull a piece of cat hair out of my teeth and listen to the neighbors shouting at each other on the street, and I imagine what it would be like if my body didn't ache, didn't feel like a jumble of nonsense the consistency of dogshit and balsa wood. My apartment smells like mold. I make nine-sixty-something an hour after taxes. I don't know how to use Instagram because at twenty-whatever I've managed to become both old and out of touch, but I do know how to let Instagram make me feel bad.
In the photo, a guy I know looks rugged, cheeky, like a man with a story to tell but who might pull a quarter out from behind your ear instead. In reality, he's an old gay guy who both lurches and flops about at the same time, his too-large T-shirts hanging off his hunched shoulders. When he's feeling sprightly, he does a little ungainly but joyful Charleston, a grin on his face goofier than his little kicks, which show off the dirty bottoms of his fluorescent Converse shoes. I see him a lot in the back office at work or the break room, which are dim and yellow, making his ruddy face and greying stubble an undifferentiated jowly mass. But this guy also has lots of pictures of his own, that he shows me sometimes, of himself when young, with friends all dressed up in alternative 80s gear, all eyeliner and teased white hair. He smiles when he flips through the pictures. I don't know what he is remembering. I see a lot of cool people I've never met; he tells me this picture was even used in an ad for a local fashion hotspot back in the day. Then, swiping up and down with his fingers, still smiling but using a tone of voice that's a particularly terrifying variety of cheerful sarcasm, he tells me most of the people in these pictures are dead.
He knows I know why.
When I scroll through that woman's Instagram I am angry, maybe, because there's nobody to see me, nobody to remember what I did. The endless dullness that characterizes my days is not something I myself remember; I have the barest sense at all, even, that it is too dull for memory. There is something particularly disgusting to me that this is how most women have lived their lives, a parade of dishes and diapers, the inside of their heads taken up by minutiae about the state of the carpet and lists of birthdays. I've fallen headfirst into it, softly, like a particularly cushy pie on a grandmother's windowsill or the pillowy bosom of a schoolmarm. As a child I was particularly offended I was not noticed for who I was, or who I thought myself to be, at least, and what my mom did manage to notice was a nitpicking ritual of continual impropriety; what was on the floor but shouldn't be, what spot I missed on the counter with a sponge, which hairs were out of place and what crumbs were in the corners of my lips, what smile wasn't on my face and when. In retrospect I don't know if I was more offended on my behalf or hers, and if I was a selfish little shit about it whether I was more enraged by the idea that I was lost under her omnipresent fussing or that my proper development into a woman involved filling my head with such an eye.
I used to scream at her that I would not become like her, and I guess I didn't. I'm gay, for one, and live in a city, full of the types of people she imagines when she neurotically checks and rechecks the locks on her doors. I don't have children, a husband, a credit card, a mortgage, but I do have what I never wanted from the legacy of women, which is enormous spans of time where I fiddle with a sponge, a spoon, tiny meaningless papers, buttons on a cash register. As a child-- and embarrassingly, as an adult ill-prepared for reality-- I screamed because I insisted by the declaration of my lungs that my life would be different, it would be about intensity, perceptiveness, truth, integrity, adventures, journeys, big huge concepts that would bowl me over and spill out of me like a living mystic channeling forces of the universe. I used to read for hours and hours as a child, usually epic fantasy or science fiction I probably shouldn't have been allowed to put into my prepubescent brain; sometimes I used to hang upside down off the couch and read upside down just for the hell of it, to shake my world up a bit. I moved onto philosophy and hours of mopey music through headphones in the dark when I got older. I was delusional about what my life would be like, about what life would make me into. The big huge concept that would end up bowling me over was mediocrity, mundaneness, the stuff men on Reddit call women "vapid" for.
Hannah Arendt was a really smart woman, the kind of woman I thought I might be someday. She said a whole lot of shit that was really deep, and when I was still chasing the highs of thinking that there were neat-o discoveries to be made in this world that made you Somebody to see them, I thought that "the banality of evil" was the most profound thing I ever heard. When I encountered it for real it wasn't profound, just banal indeed. Evil is soul-sucking in a special fucking way, it sucks the life out of you in the way that alcohol shuts off first the part of your brain that lets you know you're drunk. Something's gone and you're all screwed up about it but you're gone in a way that won't let you know what left, there's just rage disguised as irritability and crud on the counter and a bus that doesn't show up. Sometimes you get to look right into the sucking hole, a yawning abyss of multi-generational societal depravity and institutional apathy, when you're sitting next to a homeless woman on a bench downtown with legs so swollen she couldn't go anywhere even if she had someplace to go. I gave her five dollars on most days of my commute because I hoped at least she could eat something, and she deserved the dignity of being seen by somebody, but honestly she needed somewhere to sleep and a bunch of somebodies to do something about her health. A lot of fucking evil had to happen to a lot of people for buildings full of suits to exist on the same block as this lady. A lot of fucking evil had to happen for people to accept this as normal.
What evil has to happen for women to accept their lot, whether it's accepting that the cumulative buzz of your life-inspiration be directed towards holding up a glass in a particularly enrapturing photo on Instagram, or whether it's accepting that you're gonna have to spend another night on the bench? I cry sometimes knowing that no one will remember my mother; all she will leave behind is a gravestone next to a man's and a legacy of psychological scars on her daughters, who nobody will bother to remember either. My mother's life is worth a book or two, but I couldn't get it out of her even if I tried. I don't think my mom even knows she has a story, just petty dramas she tries to escalate into a validation that she hasn't disappeared yet because she can hurt somebody. I don't know the homeless lady's story or how she ended up begging on a bench downtown each day. I hope with all my heart she finds a place to live out her life, a little home where she can use a scooter and have enough to eat, where five dollars isn't the difference between confirmation of the world's cruelty and God's presence. She showed me a video once on her phone of a preacher that she followed, a woman who she said she saw at a big church event in the South; she could go places once, and I don't know how she ended up so she couldn't go anywhere anymore. Maybe she doesn't know-- maybe when you can't go anywhere anymore the point is that you don't think you got there and you don't think you're getting out, you're just there right now, but also always were and somehow forever will be. Maybe you're watching buses go by all damn day and feeling your tongue go numb from saying "spare a dollar", or maybe your finger's getting red from wiping the snot under your kid's nose, time passing only when the tissues are gone. They don't take shots of this shit. There's no filter for "life's over, but not yet."
I wish what I felt could become great art, maybe even just shitty art, that it could mean something, that I was something; dudes have generations of scholarship-worship trailing behind them because they wrote paeans to being existentially bored, because they discovered what it's like to look at a damn soup can and slapped it in a museum. Maybe I'm just jealous, but, you know, I used to stock groceries, and I spent a lot of my time looking at damn soup cans. I think I now know why Val shot him.
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fuckinsteverogers · 7 years
Text
Home: Part 1
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Rating: 18+ Series
Warnings: Pining, (seemingly) unrequited love, Voyeurism, Masturbation.
Synopsis: You are an Avenger and have been on an assignment for six months, returning to the Avengers Headquarters is difficult because of Steve, the man you’ve been in love with for years. Everything is different and you can’t help but imagine being with him.
Author’s Note: Alike all my other new fics up, I will state that this may be familiar to some because it was posted on my old account, but I had to delete it because I was being stalked. There is a part 2 and that one will be different from last time because I wrote it, posted it, and seems like I didn’t save it. I’m super annoyed about it because I was heaps proud of it, but oh well, second times the charm. I hope you enjoy it.
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Stepping out of the lift into the communal floor of the Avengers tower felt like the first time all over again, but it wasn’t, you’d spent half my life here. Yet, after a six-month mission and no weekends off to visit, it felt like the first time all over again.
Your heart starts to hammer against your chest, and your palm sweats against Nat’s. She insisted on your outfit when you’d left, assuring you that it would make Cap turn his head hard enough to get whiplash. You’d chuckled and batted her away, but secretly hoped that he’d finally see what was right in front of him, or what hadn’t been for six months.
You looked like an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. in tight black jeans, combat boots, a tight-fitting tank top, and a leather jacket. Nat had made you keep up with your fitness over the six months and even pushed you so hard that you had lost weight and gained muscle, and were essentially in your best shape of your life.
Even though getting fitter and stronger was enough of a motivation in this job, but thinking about Captain and how much you had wanted him from the moment you laid eyes on the man, disgruntled and wary of the new world. In those first few weeks, you had found yourself getting lost in those great blue eyes way too often through his debriefings. It was seemingly pretty obvious that you had a massive thing for the capsicle, according to everyone, minus Steve who was incredibly oblivious to your advances. You ticked it off as not being his type, or maybe just being invisible in that way.
Cap and you had developed an easy relationship throughout the time you had spent together, laughing easily, and talking easily; finding that despite the almost century of difference in age, you still had a lot in common. Even if he didn’t see you in the way you wished, seeing him was still so exciting.
And namingly why your face dropped through the fifteen floors below when he wasn’t waiting with everyone else to greet you and Nat home.
“We missed you, button,” Tony greets, hugging you in greeting. You smile and hug him back at the sound of the nickname the group had decided for you, generally referring to how small you are.
“It’s good to be back, Tony,” You tell him honestly, but distractedly; still looking for any sign of the Captain.
“He’s been locked up in his room all day,” Tony intervenes in your thoughts, almost like he is reading your mind. You glance suspiciously at him, and excuse yourself from the greetings, and move towards the lift.
“Where are you going?” Nat yells down the hallway, you stop and turn; pointing at the lift without saying a word.
“Stupid question, Nat,” Clint butts in, pulling him into a side hug, looking over at you. “She’s going to find her Captain.”
Nat scoffs, but grins anyways. “Not mine,” You yell back and bash the button for the lift.
“But you wish,” Bucky concludes, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. You stick your finger up at him as the door to the lift closes, and faintly hear the sounds of laughter; it hits you that your home and it feels good, but there’s one thing missing.
Cap’s floor is quiet when the lift door opens, and it’s cold and messy. Clothes were strewn over the couch, and cups on the coffee table, and it’s very unlike Cap. On the way to his bedroom, you pick up the clothing and pile it in a basket, noting to pick it up and wash them when you leave.
The bedroom door is slightly ajar when you reach it and push it open further with your palm, sweating at the thought of finally seeing Cap after all these months, and by seeing Cap you meant fully clothed in front of everyone and grinning like he’s the happiest he has ever been, and none of these things applies in this situation, because…
We certainly aren’t in front of anyone, and in that moment, you thank the Lord that you are the only person to lay eyes on this sight. Captain is certainly not fully dressed, minus the shirt pushed up to his chin, and the sheet covering his thighs. Lastly, he is definitely not grinning, quite the opposite actually. His mouth is open and his head is back, and your knees suddenly feel like jelly, because you’ve imagined this sight more than a hundred times, and to see it in person is a gift from God.
Captain is lying in the middle of his king bed, a white shirt bunched under his chin, his spectacular abs gleaming with sweat, and his hand wrapped around the impressive stature of his cock.
You watch as he pants, and groans, and grips the sheets with his free hands, and works himself slowly towards his orgasm; and you realise you’re standing and watching your superior masturbate, and enjoying it no less.
Wetness begins to pool between your thighs, and Steve’s groans get louder and louder and you’re watching with wide eyes.
“Y/N,” Steve groans as his hips stall and his hand tightens and every part of your body goes slack as the word registers in your mind, as Steve cums all over his abs. Your eyes widen and realise he moaned your name, the one name you had wished for him to utter that way for over a year now, and that’s right about when a gasp comes rushing from out of your mouth, along with a very loud ‘shit!” and the sounds of you running as fast as possible back to the lift.
“Y/N, wait! I can explain,” Steve yells after you. You pick the basket up on your way and bash the button the lift, so overwhelmed with emotion that you don’t want to face Cap at the moment.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Come on, man,” You screech as the lift takes its damn time, and the moment you’re in it, you bash the close button and you close your eyes and slam the back of your head against the lift.
~
“I just ran, Nat, like actually ran,” You tell Nat as she cradles her tea, she’s got one of her pillows on her lap and is listening intently as you tell her what you walked into. “Like he yelled out for me and I didn’t stop.”
“You basically had the guy you’ve been in-love with for a year tell you that he lusts after you,” Nat clarifies, as you stare down at your hands. “If I were in that position, I’d probably be overcome by emotion too. Only thing is, I’d probably jump his bones before he got a chance to scream my name.”
“Nat!” You screech and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed to even think about ‘jumping his bones’.
“Hun, don’t hide from him forever,” She tells you, and you nod in agreeance. Groaning, you get up and grab the basket of Captain’s and your clothes to go wash. “Seriously, talk to him.”
“Yes, Natasha,” You huff back on the way out the door towards the communal floor.
You hear voices faintly down the end of the hall towards the communal lounge, but choose to slip your headphones in as you enter the laundry, and begin piling the basket of clothing into a washer.
You get lost in the music as you turn the washer on and add the detergent, and place yourself on another washer parallel to the one working on Cap and your clothing.
The rock music blasts in your ears as you lay back on the multiple washers lining the wall, and close your eyes, finding yourself drifting into an easy sleep.
~
A finger grazes your cheek and you jump up from your lying position, only to find your face colliding with someone else’s.
“What the fuck!” You yell, rubbing the bruise that is no doubt forming on your face. You move to a sitting position and open your eyes, and there is Cap rubbing his face as well, a sheepish smile on his lips.
“Sorry, I wanted to talk to you,” He says and watch him, so overwhelmed with the want to launch yourself at him that you forget words. That is until he tilts his head and his mess of a blonde mop on his head moves and you are thrown back into your body.
“How did you know I was here?” You ask, motioning towards the room and the whirling washer.
“You took my clothing with you… my dirty clothing,” He replies quickly, grinning down at you, and you frown, reminding yourself to stop asking stupid questions.
“Right…” You say, rubbing your sweaty hands over your thighs, nervous to be near the man that makes you think very dirty thoughts.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I thought you’d be back later today,” Steve tells you, and you try to find enough confidence to throw yourself at him.
“No, I shouldn’t have been looking. I invaded your privacy,” You tell him, trying to take the blame. “Who you think about in bed is none of my business.”
Steve frowns, and nods. With a face full of hurt, he turns and moves towards the door, a bit of confidence shoots through you and you ask a question burning on your mind.
“Steve,” You say before he leaves, he turns back to you and pierces you with those beautiful eyes. “Is it only lust you feel for me?”
“No,” He says slowly, and your confidence goes from five to ten in a second, and you’re pushing yourself off of the washers and rushing to him.
With all your strength, you pull a shocked Steve down to yours and smash his lips with yours. Your lips mould together and his hands reach under the back of your shirt and spread over your back, pushing you tight against his chest.
It’s like fireworks going off in your head, and his lips are plump and soft, and you moan as his tongue fights its way into your mouth. Your hands grip the back of his neck and tug on his hair, causing him to groan deeply into your mouth.
It’s the beeping of the washer that breaks you both from your kiss, and you lean your forehead against his chest, taking deep breaths to regain my breathing after such a breathtaking experience.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” You say, pressing your hands into Cap’s back.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Cap chuckles, and you’re screeching as he hooks his arm under your knees and pulls you up to his chest, moving the both of you out of the laundry room.
“The laundry!” You yell as Cap presses the lift button, and grips your ass with his free hand, causing you to thrust your hips up and shriek.
‘Later, doll. I’m more concerned about wrecking you,” Cap says, voice like velvet and wetness begins to soak your panties. You throw your arm over his shoulder and lean down to kiss him, happy to be home.
Feedback is always appreciated and tags are open!
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hoyoungy · 7 years
Text
Laundry Day - V/Taehyung
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genre: fluff summary: he really couldn’t have used any other washing machine? word count: 2389 a/n: for the boy with the sweetest smile
Oh, laundry day - the very bane of your existence. You’ve just moved into your apartment not too long ago and have been so busy unpacking that you’ve neglected your weekly chores. You’re the type of person who likes to pile up at least two weeks worth of laundry because honestly, who has the time and five dollars in quarters lying around every single week? But waiting for two weeks is starting to catch up to you - even the chair has acquired too much laundry at this point, so you started to do it weekly instead, like a sanitary, I-contribute-to-society human being.
In your comfiest sweats, on your day off, you headed over to the laundromat down the street from your apartment. You were hoping because it was a weekday that not many people would be there, and to your delight, you were right! The laundromat was practically empty. You settled yourself and your laundry in one of the middle washers. You could feel your wallet ache with every quarter you put in.
You brought your headphones to distract you for the next two hours. At your old apartment, when the washers and driers were in the basement, you were completely comfortable leaving your laundry there for practically the whole day. But here, in a public place like this? No way, the risk of some pervert taking your panties was too high, so you stayed put on the very uncomfortable bench.
You didn’t notice the ringing of the door when another person walked in. You didn’t notice them walking down the same aisle you were in. But you noticed them - him - walking up and using the washer right next to yours.
Literally the one right next to yours.
You raised a brow, looking all around you while he was throwing in his clothes. All of the other washers were empty! No one else was here! Why did he choose to be next to you!?
Maybe he was the panty pervert…
You kept a sharp eye on him as he sat down next to you. You noticed he brought headphones, too. You guessed he could feel you staring at him because he turned to look at you with questioning eyes. Yours widened, embarrassed and unable to move from being caught staring. It looked like he was going to tell you off for staring, but no, he simply gave you the warmest smile.
Oh, no, you thought, feeling your cheeks heat up.
You quickly turned away and focused on your phone, obviously not charmed. The first hour felt like three because you felt so self conscious about sitting next to him. Every now and then you would look over at him, pretending to look at the tv behind him, to see if he was as stiff as you were.
Not even close.
It was like he was an expert at awkward laundromat encounters.
You thanked the laundry lords when your wash cycle was finished. You inspected the washer at least three times to make sure no panties were hiding anywhere for the stranger next to you to steal. Walking over to the dryers, instead of choosing a dryer in the middle of the aisle, you chose one more towards the end. The only other person in the room followed you not long after.
Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me…!
Of course, he sat next to you. But this time, instead of using the machine next to you, he used the one behind you.
You could only wait for the next hour to pass without freaking out. You tried counting the rotations of your clothes, but lost count after 253…
You liked to fold your laundry right out of the dryer because it made you feel accomplished and like you had your life together. You didn’t bother folding your underwear because you wanted all of them to be hidden before any panty perverts stole them and ran off with them. Before you finishing, you fished out your favorite sweater to wear and enjoyed the warmth.
When the stranger’s laundry was finished, he just stuffed all his clothes in a bag, though you weren’t surprised. He didn’t look like the laundry-folding type. At least he’d be out of here sooner than you.
“2895,” you heard him say.
You looked up from your folding confused. He smiled at you again and you didn’t miss the teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“H-Huh?” you asked, freezing mid-fold.
“There’s 2895 rotations in one drying cycle. Give or take a few probably, I only counted once.” He shot you a quick wink before he turned around and walked away.
You were shocked that he talked to you. You were more shocked that he actually knew you were trying to count the rotations. You were most shocked that he didn’t actually try to steal your panties.
Oh, no, your entire face felt hot.
Snapping out of your thought bubble, you realized you were holding up your half-folded embarrassing pajama bottoms that had the ducks on them that the stranger obviously saw. You cursed yourself for letting him see something so… intimate?
You wondered if Wednesdays were his laundry days, too.
You were the only one in the laundromat again next week. You were about to use the same machine as last week, but decided against it. No, you were going to test something out. If the stranger comes in again and uses the machine next to you, then that’s when you pull out the red flag. But if he doesn’t, then it just makes whatever happened last week more confusing.
As you were loading up your clothes into the washer, the door opened, and you tried to ignore your growing curiousity to see who it was. Trying not to look eager, you casually glanced at the door - not that you cared, or anything.
To your delight, it was him, the laundry stranger. The potential panty pervert. The I-actually-counted-how-many-rotations-one-cycle-took companion.
You anticipated him to sit next to you again, but he never did. Actually, he didn’t even look at you - he walked straight passed and went to the same washer he did last week.
You breathed a sigh of relief. Cheerfully, you put in your quarters, but when you pushed the button to start, nothing happened. Pressed it again, nothing happened. Kicked the washer, nothing happened.
“That one’s broken,” the stranger told you, not looking up from his book.
“There wasn’t a sign…” you muttered sourly. “I didn’t break it, did I?”
He chuckled at your worrisome expression. “No, it’s common sense around here that those entire row of washers don’t work. The first few in this row are good for light loads. This one and the one next to it are the only good ones for regular loads.”
“Ohhhh…” you said, everything finally clicking into place. No wonder he sat right next to you last week. Man, did you feel stupid.
“I thought you knew since you used this machine last week,” he noted, pointing to the machine. “You probably thought I was some creep using the washer right next to you.”
“N-Not at all!” you lied.
“You don’t have to lie,” he teased. You swear he’s a mind-reader.
“This is a robbery,” you pouted, throwing your clothes into the good washer. “Does the lady up there have change for quarters?”
“Don’t even bother.”
“Great…”
“Here,” he said, taking out his own quarters.
“Oh, no, I can just go back -” He didn’t let you object as he already pressed the start button.
“You can just pay for my load next week,” he smiled again.
“Thank you, uh…”
“Taehyung.”
“_____.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, _____.”
Laundry day quickly became your favorite day of the week. Your weekly encounters with Taehyung was the only eventful thing in your life you looked forward to, which sounds incredibly sad if you were to say it aloud. He was so easy to talk to and in a way, made your worries of everything else disappear. On some weeks, you didn’t have as much laundry as you usually would for a regular load, but you would always throw in some extra clothes just so you had an excuse to be next to Taehyung.
… Which also sounds pretty sad.
The following weeks, you got the chance to get to know him instead of listening to the same laundry playlist for the tenth time. You learned that he lived in the building across from yours, much to your surprise. It was a lot nicer than yours, built recently this past year. When you were looking for apartments before, you thought it was perfect - it had practically everything besides laundry. Then you found out the rent and thought that the place across the street, uh, suited your budget much more.
“You’re missing out ~” he told you last week when he found out you were considering his building.
“On what?”
“An indoor gym, a pool, a jacuzzi.”
“I am living comfortably, thank you.”
“It’s not too late to move, there are a few more units available.”
“It was too late when I signed my lease a month and a half ago.”
“Fine, but next year I’m expecting to see you across the hall.”
“I’ll consider the invitation.”
Today was another Wednesday, and another five dollars gone. You came in a little earlier than usual since you actually had plans later that day. The first thirty minutes were so boring without having Taehyung to talk to, so you decided to count the rotations in a washing cycle, since he hadn’t done that yet.
You were on rotation 537 when you heard the door ring. All you heard was the shuffling of Taehyung wlaking up to you and him putting his clothes into the washer. You were too concentrated on counting to stop to say hi.
“31, 264, 953, 629, 7 -”
“SHH!” you hushed, shoving a hand in his face. His cheeks were so soft that you pulled your hand back because you felt bad.
“A hello would be nice,” he said sarcastically.
“Hello, Taehyung -”
You glanced at Taehyung for a quick second so you could say hello, but you were greeted with him taking off his shirt so he could throw it into the washer. He didn’t have anything underneath and didn’t throw anything on as he pushed the start button on the washing machine. All you could do was stare. His skin looked so smooth and his body was defined in all the right places. You really had to stop yourself from reaching out and touching him.
He caught you staring and gave you a devillish smirk. “So what number are you on?”
“Uh…” You completely forgot you were counting! “Shit!”
“Maybe you should have paid attention. It’s rude to stare,” he teased.
“Maybe you should wear a shirt!”
“It’s not my fault it was dirty.”
“It really is, though.”
“No need to be mad,” he chuckled. “There’s always next week.”
This week marks your fifth week doing laundry with Taehyung, which is actually pretty serious at this point. It’s quite established that this would be routinely for the both of you until one of you messed it up. To be honest, you were waiting for the week that you would mess it up, because let’s face it, you were already caught staring at his body, and you knew you could do much worse to ruin it.
When Taehyung came in, he sat down immediately and didn’t put his laundry in yet. You eyed him suspiciously when you noticed his very cute, cheeky grin. You couldn’t help but smile back - he was contagious.
“What?” you asked.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“My favorite color? Why?”
“I don’t know, I had a hunch it was red.” When he pulled out your red panties from his pocket and dangled them in front of your face, you felt like you could die right then and there.
Turning as red as your panties, your snatched them away from him and smacked his head with it several times.
“You are a panty pervert!” you screeched.
“A what!? Yah, stop it!”
“Why did you take my panties!?”
“I didn’t! They ended up in my basket somehow last week!”
“Yeah, ok, so my panties just fell into your basket, right!?”
“Yes, that’s literally what happened!”
You sighed, trying to calm yourself down from possibly the fifth most embarrassing moment of your life.
“I didn’t realize I had them until my roommates noticed and teased me about it.”
Make that the third most embarrassing moment of your life.
“You’re telling me other boys like you touched my panties!?” you pouted.
“No, no, jeez, I wouldn’t let them touch it!” he scoffed. “Although, they might have when I wasn’t looking.”
“So you’re telling me to burn my favorite panties.”
“Basically.”
“Great…”
“It’s a shame. I bet you’d look cute in them,” he said, biting his lip mischievously.
“Stop that!” you blushed, smacking him again.
“Well, now that you’ve seen me shirtless and that I’ve seen your panties… Would you like to go out sometime?”
You stared at him for a few seconds before bursting out laughing - not only because you were surprised that he actually liked you, but because of the whole situation - he was asking you out in the laundromat after giving you back your panties...
“Yah, you could just say no,” he pouted.
“No, of course I’d like to go out with you!”
“Then why are you laughing!?”
“Because you’re asking me out in a laundromat!”
“It’s the only time I ever get to see you! Besides, it’s a funny story to tell you’re friends.”
“It is.”
“I would have been shocked if you said no, actually,” he admitted.
“Is it because you’re just so irresistible?”
“I mean, by the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me last week, I’d say so.”
“You’ll never live that down, will you?”
“Never. Ah, I forgot to put my laundry in! I got too excited,” he said, quickly throwing them in the washer.
“I’ll wait with you so we can use the dryers together.”
He gave you his award-winning smile when he sat down. “You’re cute.”
And you couldn’t help but smile, too.
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sippin-on-red-wine · 7 years
Text
High Tide | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me
Title: High Tide: An Original, Ed Sheeran Mature Fan Fic | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: 17+, Mature (Smut comes in at the end of this chapter) Word Count:  10,478 Author’s Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction, let alone that of the smutty variety. I started to read it recently and wanted to take a stab at my own story. I am SEEKING FEEDBACK of any and all kinds! Please feel free to drop me a message, an ask, on anon -- ANYTHING! I want to know how you like the story, the characters, do you relate to them? What did you like? What is missing? Any requests for future installments? HIT ME UP. Enjoy!
**Please like/re-blog!**
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Ed set his glass down on the kitchen counter and poured himself another whiskey, neat. He had lost track of how many he had, though he knew the whiskies were only perpetuating his bad mood. Usually he was a fun drunk, bit of a boozy idiot actually, but that was when he was with his friends. Drinking alone didn’t warrant any celebration. Especially considering the events that had transpired in the last several weeks. Luckily, his mates were due to arrive here tomorrow afternoon.
He strode back upstairs to the master suite of his friend’s summer home in Southport, ME. She had been there when shit really hit the fan and offered up the house to Ed for as long as he needed it. She said it was the perfect place to stay out of the public eye. It was a gated community, the beaches not accessible to the public, and most people only summered there anyway. Labor Day had come and gone, and she assured Ed he wouldn’t be bothered.
He had a few dates to finish up on the Asia leg of his tour and had planned on flying back to London to start work on his next album until he was due to continue touring in the States, and actually be able to spend some time in his own god damned house. But he couldn’t face going home, the home he had built with her, not after what had happened. So he gladly took his friend up on her offer, heading to New England instead.
Ed walked barefoot across the plush carpet toward the electric fireplace. From the bits he heard on the news, it was an unseasonably warm September on the East Coast, but the nights were still really cool. He clicked the fire on and instantly felt a tick better, taking a moment to watch the flames flicker and fade.
He strode over to the big bay window next and, with a different button on the same remote, sent the blinds up. He looked down at the neighboring house, peering into the big, open windows of the living room.
Right, well wasn’t she having a better night than me? Ed looked down and studied his new neighbor. She looked to be maybe in her late twenties, tan skinned and dark hair piled all up on top of her head, rectangular specs perched on her nose. She was wearing tight black leggings and a long-sleeved red T-shirt with “Wisconsin” spelled out in white block lettering.
She walked gracefully into the living room, holding a glass of wine and a very large book. Ed watched her lie back on a black leather couch, whose back was up against the large windows facing him, and slide on some reading glasses that had been left there. Setting her wine down on the table and tossing a throw pillow behind her back, she opened up her book and settled in. Ed wasn’t sure why he was still watching, likely because he had fuck-all else to do, other than finish his whiskey.
A few beats passed and Ed decided he was being creepy, and turned to grab the remote to lower the blinds back down.
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I slowed to a jog as I jammed the speed button down on the treadmill. I looked down at the controls and saw my stats for this run, I had gone for almost 40 minutes longer than I normally did. I slowed to a walk for a few minutes and then shut the machine off.
My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into an old baseball hat which was now drenched in sweat. I walked across my home gym over to the attached bathroom, peeling off my cap, tank top, sports bra and running tights, depositing them in the laundry chute. I tugged the elastic out of my hair and slipped into the shower, turning the faucet to just barely warm enough.
I stood under the spray, ruminating on the events of the last two weeks.
I had woken up at the asscrack of dawn yesterday to drive Ed’s friends to the airport. They had planned on just getting a cab, but I had insisted. The last two weeks spent with them here would be stuck in my memory forever. They were so upbeat, really bringing me out of my social black hole I’d been rocking for the last couple of years. And holy shit, I thought I drank too much on my own, but I had really punished my liver while they were here.
Ed rode along to bid his mates farewell, sitting shotgun and toying with my shifting hand throughout the entire two hour drive. We dropped them off outside the airport, hopping out to help them unstack their luggage from the back. They each hugged Ed & I, promised to see him again soon, and thanked me for my hospitality again.
The last two weeks had been nearly a non-stop party, chock filled with laughter, booze, bonfires, meals shared at my dining room table (the first time it had ever been used, by the way). But there was something more.
I hadn’t known, but Ed had been living in the house next door for two weeks before I met him. His friend Pete had seen me sitting out on the beach in front of my house on their first night in town, I had headphones in listening to a podcast when he tapped me on the shoulder, scaring the SHIT out of me, making me spill wine all up and down my front. The poor guy felt bad about that for at least a week. He had invited me over to join their bonfire, a friendly act that led to a chain of events that might actually have changed my life.
I must have looked like a total idiot, because I didn’t realize Ed was Ed Sheeran until the third night, when someone brought a guitar out to the fire and passed it around. The group was surprised when it came to my turn and I set my drink down, burying the stem of my glass in the sand, and plucked out a mediocre-at-best rendition of Miranda Lambert’s ‘Oklahoma Sky’. A party trick I probably wouldn’t have broken out if I hadn’t A) Been thoroughly liquored up and B) Knew I was in the presence of the largest male pop artist in the fucking world.
“Anything you can’t do, love?” Ed had chuckled as I finished, clapping along with the group. “The lady can sail, she plays guitar, and makes the best fucking lobstah mac n cheese in the whole world.” He imitated the classic Bostonian accent on ‘lobster’, sending me into a tizzy. His American accent impressions were freaking hilarious.
“Ah, well, you caught me. I know like, three songs. How does that saying go? ‘Jack of All Trades, Master of None’ ? Yep, that’d be me,” I said, passing the guitar to Ed on my left.
Night had just fallen. The air felt like a shade of navy blue with silver-white stars starting to freckle the sky above us. Ed picked up the guitar and started strumming out this beguiling melody.
“You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that. The way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back….” I was in awe. The beautiful tenor of his voice sang out, fingers plucking the bronze strings of the guitar, his eyes closed the whole time. “So in love, so in love, so in love…” It was such a touching song.
He was barely finished when I asked, “Who sings that? That was a beautiful song, wow.”
A beat passed and no one said anything. Lauren, a strikingly tall brunette, stood up and strode over to me, hooking her arm through mine, “Let’s get a refill, yeah?” Well this is awkward.
“Erm, sure,” and I walked with her, arms still linked. She flung open the sliding glass door and I followed her into Ed’s kitchen. It was quite similar to mine, all white, with marble countertops and a large island which was currently being used as a makeshift bar.
“Love, you know who Ed is, right?” She said, looking down at me. Okay, so she didn’t bring me in here for a fill-up.
“Uh… I don’t follow?”
“Are you bullshitting me right now?” She said, taking a step toward me.
“Whoa, okay, can you please clue me in on what we’re talking about here?” I was quick to jump on the defense.
She exhaled loudly. “Ed Sheeran… you know… like, super huge pop singer? Won Grammy’s n shit?”
I racked my brain, trying to find an association with the name “Ed Sheeran”. The puzzle must have played out on my face, because Lauren dug into her pocket, pulling out her iPhone. She quickly tapped the screen a few times, and suddenly a song started playing out of the little speaker. “White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,” sang out. I suddenly felt like I had a rock in my stomach. She was tapping away at her phone again, another haunting melody beginning, playing in super-speed as she drug her finger across the screen, fast forwarding. “...keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won’t ever be alone - wait for me to come home.”
Holy shit. I set my drink down on the counter and gripped the edge. I didn’t live *completely* under a rock and had heard these songs on the local pop station, both here & back home. I saw Lauren look outside at all the guys still sitting around the fire. She pulled up another song, a sort of xylophone beat playing out, “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go..”
“Okay, I get it.” I said, wanting her to shut the dang thing off. “I had no idea.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m the one that made it weird. I just thought you would want to know. Ed is totally chill. Let’s go back out by the guys. C'mon.” She handed my wine glass back, hers in tow as well.
I was reluctant, not really knowing what Ed's reaction would be. Would he think I was lying? Would he be insulted? I followed Lauren across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, out onto the patio and back down onto the beach. Ed turned his head as we approached, the guitar abandoned in the sand next to him.
“I’m guessing Lauren just blew my cover, yeah?” He joked.
“Sorry, I totally didn’t realize. I don’t do like, social media or anything, and I mostly listen to country on the radio.” I shrugged, feeling the need to explain myself.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ed reached out and rubbed my shoulder blade. “I need that ego check sometimes, I think.”
“Bloody hell ‘e does,” piped in one of the other guys, everyone laughing and chiming in with their own similar sentiments.
And things were totally back to normal after that.
The next ten days were a blur of too much food, too much alcohol, a lot of laughs, and a blossoming interest in my new neighbor. I found myself drawn to him, and he, to me. It was a few days after the “revelation” when I had taken the gang out on one of the ocean charters my company operated during the tourist season. We went out a couple hours before sundown, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the whales that would be heading back down to warmer waters now from up in Nova Scotia. We were not disappointed. The six of us were out on the bow of the ship, a 50 foot beauty, new to the fleet this year. There was a small pod of humpback whales that were delighted to play in the foamy bubble spray that was kicked up by our propellers. We were exhilarated, watching the water for bubbles and dorsal fins, waiting for the next breach.  
The biggest momma whale propelled out of the water, crashing down, creating a huge splash - I looked over and saw Ed’s face light up, head thrown back, mouth open with silent laughter. I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike wonder. He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye and caught me admiring him. He was up against the railing, I was standing back about a foot away, on deck. He twisted away from the rail and reached out to me, both hands coming to clasp mine, and he drew me into his chest, wrapping me up in a big hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. I closed my eyes, squeezing my arms around his ribcage, inhaling his slightly sweet scent of cinnamon.
I had butterflies in my stomach. I knew that I had started to develop feelings for him, but it was so early, and I didn't think he felt the same way. But when he drew me into his chest, out on the open water, I didn't know what to think anymore. I decided to play it cool.
I was re-watching these scenes in my head, and a few more days passed by. It was Saturday night and the gang was feeling particularly energetic. We set up a game of beer pong and played each other in teams of two. Once that got boring, we switched the flippy-cup, 3 on 3, playing a few sets of that. I was feeling particularly juiced up, not used to drinking any type of alcohol at such a fast pace. The boys turned on some music and we gathered round the kitchen island, grabbing out a deck of cards to play Circle of Death and pouring shots for everyone.
After the first “Waterfall” of the game, I desperately needed some air. It seemed like there were five different conversations going on at once, and the bass of Ed’s rap music was thumping throughout the kitchen. I slipped out the patio door and sauntered down to the beach, not thinking anyone had noticed me leave.
I walked down to the shore, where a few small boulders created a miniature version of Maine’s signature craggy rock seashore. I picked a smooth, flat stone and sat down, leaning back on my hands. The salty air was cathartic and I had hoped it would help sober me up a bit.
I heard the barely-there sounds of footfalls on the sand and turned back to see Ed walking toward me, looking devilishly handsome in a plain white tee and jeans. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he came and planted himself down on my rock, hip to hip.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself.”
“Something wrong?” He asked, sounding mildly concerned.
“Yeah. You Brits are born with too high of an alcohol tolerance. I simply cannot keep up,” I sassed.
He cackled, “Ha! Don't repeat that to them, it will only egg them on more.”
He reached down for my hand, lacing his fingers in with mine, and leaned his head onto my shoulder. We sat there, just like that, in total silence but for the lap, lap, lap of the tide coming in to meet the beach.
And then he kissed me. He tilted his head up from my shoulder, using his free hand to bring my face in towards him, those perfect pink lips just slightly parted, his hand still cradling my face. His mouth sought out mine and I happily obliged, melting into his, the delicious feel of his tongue slipping past mine, swirling so tenderly. I could taste the cool whiskey and coke on his breath. His ripe berry-colored lips pressed into mine once more, and then he retreated.
“Come on, love, let's head back inside.” He said, standing up and offering out his hands to help you up.
Later, I laid in bed, wondering what the hell that had been about. Was he just tipsy? He had stayed fairly close to me for the rest of the night, once we re-joined the party, resting his hand on the small of my back at one point. But when I insisted I needed to head home to bed, he wished me goodnight with a hug and kiss on the cheek - as did every single one of those drunk Brits. I decided not to over think what this was, or wasn't, or where it was going. It felt nice and I just wanted to roll with the punches.
I snapped back to reality. The water in my shower was running cold now - I jacked the dial up toward the Hot side and went to work on washing my hair. I soaped up my loofah and sloppily scrubbed at my body while my conditioner soaked in. I made quick work with my razor and rinsed my hair one last time. Popping out of the shower, I dried myself thoroughly, wrapping my hair and body up in towels and headed upstairs to my room.
After Ed and I got back from the airport yesterday, we both went our separate ways, and I had resolved myself to leave him be for a while. That was just yesterday morning and now, the next afternoon, I was already yearning to see him again. I dropped my towel, tugged on a pair of black leggings, a white and grey long sleeved baseball tee, and some no-show socks. I bent over, shaking the towel out of my hair and using it to scrunch up my long, brown locks a bit. Then I grabbed a hair tie and piled it all on top of my head in a damp messy bun.
I flew down the steps and out the door into the garage, grabbing the keys for my Wrangler on the way out. My brain was on auto-pilot as I drove into town, calling up my favorite pizza place and ordering a large pepperoni & garlic bread to-go. If I had learned anything about Ed in the last two weeks, it's that his fridge was devoid of anything edible at almost all times. I thought surprising him with a pizza would be a good excuse to “pop in.”
I jammed a bit to the Beatles on the way to and from the pizza shop. It wasn’t a terribly long drive though, so I was pulling back into my driveway in no time, my car just absolutely reeking of delicious cheesy pizza goodness.
I parked in my driveway and crossed the lawn over to Ed’s, knocking on the front door. A beat passed, no answer. I knocked again, then tried the doorbell. I was just starting to get worried when the door swung open.
I was greeted by a tousled Ed...still wearing the same clothes he had on for the drive yesterday. To be honest, he reeked of booze, and not in the sexy whiskey-coke-kiss way that we shared the other night on the beach. I heard bass thumping faintly from somewhere in the house, and it looked like most of the lights were off inside.
“Um, hi, love, whaddya got there?” He was leaned up against the door jam, clearly needing its support to stand. Nice.
“I just thought you might like to, ah, share a pizza? Is this a bad time?” I asked, offering him an out.
“Nope,” he said, popping that “p” sound like he was known to do. “Come on in.”
He beckoned me inside, turning and walking through the foyer, clearly moving slowly, trying to focus on his steps. I walked ahead of him toward the kitchen to set down the pizza boxes. The kitchen was in total disarray; empty, half-crushed beer cans littered the counters and filled the sink. There were ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, frozen burrito wrappers. To be honest, the place looked like a shit hole.
Ed stumbled into the kitchen, plopping down in one of the stools at the island. He put his head in his hands, staring down at the countertop.
“Kendra?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry that you are seeing me this way.” His voice was stone cold now.
“Is this why I didn’t know you were living here for two weeks before your friends came to visit? This is what you were doing?”
I folded my arms across my chest, feeling all of the joy and wonder and magic of the last two weeks slowly seep out in my deep exhale. This was a straight-up turn off. It was clear that he had been on a total bender, alone, since what? 30 hours ago when I dropped him off here after holding his hand in the car? This was like a totally different person. I could just walk away now, cut my losses. I had done this shit before, in a past life, and had no desire to repeat that history.
But then he looked up at me from his hands, tears in his bloodshot eyes. He looked utterly defeated. Where was the cackling, ginger-haired man child? Was this because of his friends leaving? I didn’t understand. I mean, you barely know him, no shit you don’t understand.
I made a decision then, straightening up and bringing my eyes up to meet his.
“Okay, we’re going to talk about this another time, but why don’t I get you a glass of water and some of this pizza? To be honest, I think you could stand to sober up a bit.”
He nodded solemnly. I turned back to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and a plate. I cracked open the pizza box, snagging a slice and taking a quick bite of it myself, then threw a couple slices on the plate and slid it in front of him. I walked over to the fridge, filling the pint glass with crushed ice and then filtered water. I began opening drawers, rummaging through their contents, trying to locate a straw. I spent three months as a bartender, once, where I learned that drunk people will always drink more water if they’re sucking it down through a straw.
I brought the glass of water over to him. He was eating the pizza, good. I set to work cleaning up the kitchen, turning a few lights on, clearing up the beer cans, booze bottles, and rubbish from the countertops. Another quick check in on Drunky McSheeran told me he was drinking his water, too, good.
I quickly took the trash out, and flitted back inside to open a few windows. It was cool outside and this place definitely needed some fresh air. I found the stereo that was on and switched it off. Ed was helping himself to some of the garlic bread, that was a good sign. It felt good to be productive at least. I wandered back over to Ed and sidled up in the barstool next to him, reaching over him to grab myself a piece of pizza.
He rested his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do allthis.” He stumbled over his words.
“Hey,” I rubbed small circles at the top of his back, “It’s okay. I got you.”
He dropped a pizza crust onto his plate and slurped down the rest of his water. “I think I should lie down,” he mumbled, “not feeling s’hot.”
“Okay, why don’t you lie down on the couch over here.” And in the meantime, I’ll locate a puke bucket.
He stood up from the counter and sauntered over to the couch, crawling on top of it and lying on his side. I opened his walk-in pantry and saw a stack of mixing bowls, grabbing the biggest one and taking it over to him.
“Here, Ed, in case you get sick…” I said, setting it on the floor beside his head.
For someone who had totally brought this on himself, I was kind of feeling bad for him now. He looked so small; curled up on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest, in yesterday’s clothes.
I thought he at least deserved a proper pillow & blanket, so I took off upstairs to grab one from the bedroom. I located my supplies and headed back down to the couch, spreading the throw blanket over him. He was passed out already. That's probably for the best. I looked up at the clock; 6:30 PM. Well, this was not exactly how I thought I'd be spending my evening. I lifted his head to slip the pillow underneath, for support, but my hands lingered there in his curly red locks.
I sat down on the oversized chair adjacent to the couch, not knowing what to do next. I probably could go home, but what if he like, threw up in his sleep and choked or something? Not likely to happen, but it was still a possibility. I grabbed the TV remote and clicked it on, selecting Netflix from the tv menu and turning on Lost, Season 1, Episode 1. Ahhh, old faithful. This could keep me occupied for a while.
I must have dozed off too at some point, because I awoke with a start and it was now dark outside. I glanced up at the clock on the mantle, it was a little past midnight.
Ed's POV
I came to, but didn't open my eyes at first. Quick assessment: ok, I feel like shit, but nothing out of the ordinary for this kind of liver abuse. Fucking thirsty. Need water. Where am I?
I cracked my lids open then. No glasses, hmm..okay, I'm sure they were around. I was covered in a pale grey fleece blanket with a paisley design on it, and there was a feather pillow under my neck, but I was stretched out on the living room couch. What the? And then it all came flooding back. My heart sank. Kendra.
I sat up, and saw her then. Curled up in oversized chair, she was asleep with the TV remote in hand. To be honest, she looked adorable: messy bun all piled up on top of her head, no makeup, just a tee shirt and leggings on.
Oh, shit. Here I had gone on a dark & twisty, solo bender and this gorgeous girl had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I checked my surroundings. The pillow and blanket was definitely her doing. I'd slept in a lot worse conditions than just a couch while pissed up, God knew that. Next I spotted a large stainless steel bowl on the carpet beside the couch. Shit, I hope I didn't...
There were three bottles of water next to the bowl too, and I scooped one up, tossing the cap and drinking nearly the whole thing in one go. I turned and surveyed the kitchen next; gone were the piles of rubbish, and there were pizza boxes on the island countertop. That must have been Kendra's work too, because he had discovered earlier that no pizza joints delivered to this neighborhood in the off-season.
I felt a sick knot in my stomach, realizing what she must think of me now. Such a fuck-up. She must have wanted to share a slice with me, maybe cuddle up on the couch and finally talk about what had been going on between us, now that the rest of the group had gone home.
Instead she got this. I could just fucking picture it, here I am, reeking of sweat & shame, having just boozed & chain-smoked my way through the past 24+ hours.
She woke up, then, with a jump. I watched her eyes open, clearly also confused for a sec on where she was.
“Oh. Good morning, Sunshine,” she said, sarcasm just rolling.
“...hi…”
“Can't imagine you're feeling too hot. What, you slept for about 6 hours? Think you’re even below the legal limit yet?” Well shit.
“Shit, Kendra, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry you had to see me that way.” I didn't have an excuse to give.
“Yeah, you said that before. I mean, it's none of my business what you do really. I just didn't want you to choke on your own vomit and die.”
This girl took no prisoners. She was calling me out on my shit. Usually everybody around just put up with my antics, either because they were on my bankroll, or didn't want to offend me. It was honestly like a breath of fresh air.
“Look, Ed, I'm sorry -- that was harsh. I don't know you that well, and I have a feeling that you're dealing with some shit right now. I can't pretend to know what unique set of problems come with, being, well.. You...and Christ, I have a drink to relax or take the edge off after a long day, but that’s not what this is..”
She paused, closing her eyes for a minute, and looked back up at me.
“No,” I said, cutting her off. “There’s no excuse. You’re right.”
She got up from the chair and walked over to the kitchen island, reaching for her purse which was slung over the back of one of the barstools. I stood up from the couch and crossed the short distance to her.
“Wait, Kendra, please don't leave,” I felt like a real dick, asking her to stay, after she had already sat here most of the night watching over me, but I couldn't stand to see her go.
She stopped in her tracks, and turned toward me. “Why, Ed?”. Her big, almond-shaped mahogany eyes were looking straight up at me, pleading.
Shit. She knew, why, I'm sure. She wants you to say it out loud, you asshole.
“I...I really like you, Kendra.” Once the words spilled out of my mouth, I wondered why I hadn't said them before. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”
Those big eyes were looking up at me again.
Kendra’s POV
“Why are you here, Ed? You’re not on a leisurely vacation or spending your time off work with family. Why are you here in this house and not at home?” I was prying now.
He sighed. “....A couple of months ago, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me. Like, not once or twice. She had an affair the entire time we were together. I finished up my Asia tour dates, thought I was holding it together just fine, but then work stopped for a while and I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. I didn’t want to go back to England. I wanted to be by myself for a while,” He said, avoiding eye contact with me.
Oh, well that explains some things.
I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, and walked over to take a seat on the couch. Ed followed suit, taking up the seat on the opposite end. I turned inward, my back up against the armrest, drawing my legs up into my chest. He remained seated forward, talking to the floor in front of him.
He went on. “I told myself I was coming here for ‘solitude’, but that’s not really the truth. I was coming here to wallow. And I did. But then my mates flew in, wanting to cheer me up, and my pissed up idiot friend spotted you from the kitchen window and immediately fancied you, so he invited you over. I was just trying to keep my distance. But as I got to know you, I couldn’t do that anymore.”
He looked at me then, sorrow contouring the lines of his handsome face.
“Honestly, it felt like a trick, to stumble upon you after that….disaster. I love music, I love my job, my life… but it’s not a normal life. Relationships need normal. It never works out for me. I’m away too much, or people see me as a way to get what they want. When I met you, here, it kind of felt like the Universe giving me a big F-U.”
Wow is he dropping some truth.
“You’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and you’re so good at, like, everything. You’re independent and I’m envious of that. I can’t even be left alone for one day. You deserve better than me, Kenn.”
He finally fell silent.
“That’s not your call to make,” I spoke at barely above a whisper. My anger had totally dissipated. He was so raw, so honest with me. I felt like I owed it to him to be the same.
“Do you know why I’m here, Ed? This is my home, now, but when I came here two years ago, I was a total wreck.” His ears perked up now. “About a year prior to that, I was particularly pissed off after a long day of getting my ass handed to me at work. I stopped off at the store and bought a bottle of vodka and.. a powerball ticket. I tucked the ticket into the visor of my car and went home and drank at least half that bottle. But I won. I had every single number right and I won. A lot. It was amazing, at first, like living a dream. But within weeks, word got out and I had to change my phone number and shut off all of my social media accounts. Within months, I practically had a nervous breakdown, every single person in my life had their hands out and I wanted to give them everything they wanted, all of them, and I could have, but they weren’t there for me. I couldn’t handle it, so I just left. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone but my Mum. And that’s why I’m here. I can’t date; I can’t make friends. Once people find out what I have, it’s all they care about. I see it in their eyes.” I laughed, “You think I’m a strong, independent girl by choice? It’s because I’m the only person I trust. You have nothing to be envious about. It’s fucking lonely.”
God, it was like an anchor had been lifted from my chest. My eyes were stinging, welling up with tears. I fought them back.
He lowered himself from the couch to the floor and scooted over in front of me, wrapping his arms around my hips and laying his head down in my lap. We stayed like that for a few striking moments, not saying anything.
He sat back, withdrawing his arms.
“We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?” He said, out of nowhere. I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, nodding. Ed laughed along with me, too, his throaty cackle causing me to geek out even harder. We were delirious for a minute, like our bodies just needed to do something to shake up the feelings about what had just transpired. We both died down, falling silent again.
“What I feel for you is real, Kendra. I've never felt anything like it. I'm just drawn to you,” He squeezed my hand, those pretty blue eyes looking right into mine.
“I feel that way about you, too, Ed.”
“Then let's give this thing a proper go. I don't have much time left to spend here, maybe another six weeks, but I want to spend it with you. I want to do it right, too, take you on dates and spend hours talking until the sun comes up. I want to know everything about you.”
Gone was the defeated boy that lay here just hours earlier, this was a man, with resolve in his voice.
He went on, “I think, though, this means taking things slowly. I hope you understand. I want to do this right, Kendra, if you'll have me.”
I leapt down to the floor, pressing my body against his, holding him tightly. We kissed then; softly, sweetly, his hands coming up to cup my jaw.
Our lips broke apart. “Yes.”
It was the start of something beautiful.
****************************************************
Ed was back to his cheery self the day after our talk. He knocked on my door late-morning, a bouquet of fresh daisies in hand. He was wearing a dark chambray button-up shirt with a crisp white tee underneath, matched with black jeans and sneakers. He had a pair of aviators tucked into the top of his shirt. The effect was quite stunning.
“Hey, love, I got somethin’ for you,” he said cheekily, handing the flowers over and plopping a kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you! They're beautiful,” I brought them up to my nose to inhale the fresh floral scent. “Come in, I'm just finishing up in the kitchen.”
He kicked his sneakers off, abandoning them by the front door.
I quickly located a vase and cut the stems of the daisies, submerging them in water. My kitchen was a total mess, dirty pots and sauce pans and measuring cups strewn about, ingredients still sitting out on the countertop. It was my weekly ritual to prep a few meals and desserts for Augie, the captain who kept my boat tour business afloat, quite literally. I had met Augie at a dive bar over in Boothbay when I first moved here, and he and his wife kind of took me in. He was older, late sixties I think. We formed a fast friendship and he started taking me out on the water, teaching me how to pull up the big lobster pots, expertly navigating the harbor. He taught me to sail, too, though I wasn't comfortable going out too far without him. Augie had worked his whole life as a fishermen, having retired just before we met. He told me his dream had always been to run a boat company and well, I made it happen. He and his wife had showed me so much kindness, it was the best way to repay them.
“Sorry for the mess, I'm just making a few things to bring over to Augie for the week. I'm just about done and then I was going to run into town to drop this off for him.”
Ed had met Augie that first week when we went out whale watching. The two had hit it off instantly.
“That's sweet of you, love. What's the occasion?”
“Oh, his wife passed away last Spring, and I've been doing it ever since. They were married like, 45 years or something, and she did all the cooking before..” my voice trailed off.
“Here, let me give you a hand with this stuff,” he began clearing dishes off the counter. I wasn't about to argue, technically he did owe me from the day before.
I had an oldies station playing softly in the background. Together, we made a good team, Ed rolled up his sleeves and set to work washing dishes while I packaged up the different entrees I had prepared. Danny's Song was playing, and I heard Ed start to hum aloud. I couldn't help but smile.
Minutes later, he shut off the faucet and wiped down the counters. I stacked up all the containers in a big brown bag, threw in a bag of homemade cookies on the top, and with that, my care package was complete.
“Are you busy today?” I asked, “Do you want to run into town with me?”
“I am all yours. Let's go.” He wiped his hands and came over to kiss me, leaving a little taste of those delicious lips on my own.
I drove us into town, stopping first to drop the care package off at Augie's house. We cruised over to the harbor then, parking in the big lot and walking around downtown. I bought Ed his first whoopie pie, which he loved - such a sweet tooth, that one. We picked a few flavors and took a box to go.
He kept his sleeves rolled down and sunglasses on, but we were still stopped by a mom and a young girl on the sidewalk. Ed was so gracious, giving them both a hug and taking several silly selfies before saying good-bye.
We strolled down the boardwalk, hand-in-hand, stopping in some of the souvenir shops to see who could find the silliest item. We ended up leaving with matching Moose slippers and a few other knick knacks.
Hours had flown by like minutes. It was late in the afternoon, then, and neither of us had eaten lunch. We decided to grab a lobster roll & blueberry soda at one of the roadside stands.
“I really love it here,” Ed said, stuffing his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I ordered a second one? This is sooooo good.”
I laughed, “Go ahead babe, I don't blame you.” He walked back up to the order counter and was clearly charming the lady working, as I heard her laugh ringing out like a bell across the little gravel eating area.
He slid back into the picnic table bench with another sandwich. “What's next on the agenda, babe? Do you want to rent a movie to watch tonight?”
“Sure, there's a Walgreens up the road, we can hit the RedBox on the way home.”
We cleaned up from the buttery sandwiches as best as possible with moist towelettes, then headed back towards the car.
He let me pick the movie and we were on our way home, opting to watch at his place. Ed brought out a bottle of white wine, pouring two glasses and we snuggled in on the couch together to watch the flick. I finished mine, instantly feeling sleepy. Ed noticed right away and motioned me over to lie down with him, spooning on the couch. I shut my eyes just for a second and...
The first thing that registered was the feeling of calloused fingers brushing hair off of my forehead. I had this intense feeling of longing, like I had just been reaching for something just out of my reach, and then it was gone. Was I awake, or dreaming? I felt disoriented. Oh, holy shit. I fell asleep next to Ed on the couch...and he's still here.
“There she is,” he said with a sort of chuckle as my eyes opened and I assessed the situation. I was pretty sure I fell asleep as the little spoon, but now I was turned inward, facing Ed, our legs intertwined, my arms laced up and around him.
“Hi”, I said with a yawn.
“Some dream you were having, yeah?”
“Huh?” Ugh, my brain was foggy.
He cracked a smile, just a half grin, one side of his mouth tugging upward. His ocean blue eyes twinkled.
“I was just saying, you must have been having a great dream….you were, ah, a bit vocal in your sleep.”
Shit. I became acutely aware of the slight dampness between my legs. No….
“What? Did I say something? Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.”
“I wouldn't really call it talking...but there were a lot of adorable little mewing sounds..and, ah, little tiny moans…” he said, dropping the hard 't’ sound in little like he was prone to do.
I pulled my arms out from our cozy embrace and covered my eyes. How fucking embarrassing.
“Shit. I am mortified. I didn't even mean to fall asleep…”
He pulled my hands down from my face and planted a big kiss on my forehead.
“Don't worry about it. It was pretty adorable, actually.”
“How long was I out?”
“About an hour, I reckon.”
“I guess last night caught up with me. I never, ever fall asleep while the TV is on usually.” Nor do I normally dry hump someone's leg in my sleep, but I left that thought in my brain.
He closed his eyes, then, and his pretty pink lips came and landed on mine. He pulled my body in closer to his.
“What do you say we hit the hay, properly? This sofa isn't too comfortable. Let's go up to bed.”
“You want me to spend the night?”
“Yeah, well, if you want to? It's okay if you d--”
“No, it's ok, we can do that. I probably should run home and grab some PJ’s though.”
“Oh, you can borrow something of mine to sleep in, love, let's go upstairs.”
We untangled our limbs and got up from the couch. Ed clicked the television off and gathered up the empty wine bottle & glasses as I stretched my arms upward, and rolled my neck back and forth a bit, I was a bit stiff from the sofa.
“Want a glass of water for your night stand?” He asked.
“Yes please,” I replied.
“I'll get this then, why don't you head upstairs and find something to sleep in? Help yourself to anything.”
He deposited our stemware next to the sink, opened a cabinet, grabbed down two glasses, and strode over to the fridge and began to fill the first glass with ice. I turned and walked up the stairs, feeling the plush carpet between my toes. My stomach was in knots, my nerves kicking in. I really hadn't slept in bed with someone else in...shit, a long time? In the few short-lived relationships I had had, we always hung out at his place and I always went home, no matter how late it was.
But then again, I felt comfortable with Ed. Clearly. I was honestly still shocked that I had even fallen asleep with him downstairs on the couch. Very unlike me.
I pulled on the top dresser drawer, finding it stuffed full of boxer briefs. Hmm, okay. Next drawer was all tee shirts. I peeked at one of the labels, a size Medium. Probably not the best idea, I wanted something to cover my ass at least. I walked over to the large walk-in closet and pulled a soft, long sleeved flannel shirt in various shades of blue from a velvet hanger. I undid my jeans, shimmy-ing them off, and pulled my plain white tank top off over my head. I unclasped my nude bra and off that went too, I kicked my clothes up into a pile and shrugged on the flannel. It was just right, me being only 5’2, it came down to about mid thigh. The sleeves were a bit long so I cuffed them up once. I pulled together all the buttons, then thought twice and undid just the top two. I was wearing white lace boyshort panties, luckily, and not a thong.
Ed came in the bedroom door, “Solid choice, love, that's my favorite shirt. Not much use for it here in the blazing fucking heat, though, for me at least. Looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” I beamed. “Do you have a spare toothbrush by chance?”
“Um, I'm not sure… I'll check.” He set the glasses of water down on the dresser and headed into the bathroom. I could see him pulling drawers open at random, shuffling through each one's content. “I guess I don't, sorry. If it doesn't gross you out, you can use mine? I don't mind.”
Luckily I'm not a germaphobe. “That will be fine, thank you.” Ahem. So proper, all of a sudden. I joined Ed in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink while he wet the toothbrush and squeezed some Crest out for me. He handed me the toothbrush with a wink and I went to work on brushing. Meanwhile, he was back in the bedroom, turning on the gas fireplace. I lost focus on brushing, though, when I saw him strip down to just his boxers. Oh. Those knots were back in my belly again. I rinsed my mouth and tapped his toothbrush off, leaving it on the side of the sink
He came round to my side of the bed (“my side??” what the fuck, K) and pulled the corner of the white duvet back, patting the grey sateen sheets. “All set for you, love”.
I climbed up into the king sized bed, pulling the pretty duvet up to my chin. I watched Ed take up place in front of the bathroom sink and brush his teeth, too, it sounded like he was humming something. I couldn't take my eyes off of him; I hadn't seen him shirtless before and had no idea that his entire chest was covered in the same bright ink that danced up and down his arms. He finished up in the bathroom, switching the light off in there and then the bedroom, and walked around the bed to climb in the other side.
I flipped over to lie on my other side, facing him, and he stretched his arms out toward me, so I scooted closer. He wrapped me up in a tight embrace and inhaled deeply, nose buried in my hair.
“Mint shampoo? This smells nice.”
“Yeah, you guessed it.”
“Kendra?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for staying with me tonight.”
“Is it weird if I tell you I'm a bit nervous? I guess I'm just so used to sleeping alone. But.. I like this,” I said, tracing the outline of his shoulders and biceps with my fingers.
“I know what you mean. I feel that way too. Would you... if you want, you could call me Teddy, y’know.”
I reached up to his scruffy head of hair and twirled one of his curly copper locks between my fingers.
“Teddy,” I said, trying it out, “I like that.”
The fireplace was blazing on in the corner of the room. But that wasn't the only burn happening here. I felt that burn through every inch of my body, yearning for this man, here right in front of me. It was like, just being that physically close to him had lit a fire in me. A fire that hadn't burned in a long time.
I kissed him, then, hard and longingly. He was quick to reciprocate, pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploring. His hands came up my shirt but stopped at my waist, just grabbing and pulling me into him even closer yet. I took initiative and pushed him so that he was lying flat on his back, climbing on top and straddling him.
He broke our kiss. “Kenn,” it sounded like he was protesting. “I don't want, I mean, I didn't ask you to stay the night, expecting this..”
“Shhhh,” I sat upright now, directly at the top of his pelvis. The fireplace gave just enough light in the room that I could make out the brilliant tattoos on his chest. “I know, Teddy,” I said, tracing the outline of the great lion’s mane. “Do you want me to stop?” Damn girl, you bold.
He was wide eyed, looking up at me in the glow of the flames.
“No.”
I leaned back down and planted a messy, fast kiss on his perfect pink lips. I then moved to his earlobe, leaving a little bite there and sucking it before moving back to his mouth. I could feel his bulge growing hard beneath me, and his hands were roaming my body freely now, grabbing onto my hips and giving me the friction I so desperately wanted.
“Will you sit up a bit for me?” I asked at a whisper, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind him. His torso was propped up a bit now, those delicious lips even closer to me. His hands moved from my hips and up the hem of his soft flannel shirt, fingers grazing over my stomach and floating up to my waist.
“Can I unbutton this?” He asked.
I nodded, biting my lower lip. Hearing him ask that out loud had my blood just absolutely buzzing.
He started with the bottom button, moving ever so fucking slowly, up, up to the top. The valley between my full breasts just barely exposed. He took my right hand with both of his and slid it out of the cuff, tugging down gently to free my arm. The flannel shirt fell away from my right shoulder then and he quickly repeated the process on the other side.
My breasts were fully exposed now, I could feel those little sensitive buds beginning to harden under his intentful gaze. He brought his hands up to them, cupping them, so gently. He brushed his thumbs over my nipples simultaneously, sending a lightning rod through the nerves of my body right down to my core. His fingers expertly rubbed, and skimmed, and tugged, while my mouth fell open with barely-audible moans spilling out.
My hips were acting of their own accord, grinding out big circles over his pelvis. I could feel his rock hard cock so easily through my lace boyshorts and the thin fabric of his boxers.
“Teddy,” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.
He took his hands from my breasts then, placing one on the small of my back and wrapping the other one behind my shoulder, pulling me down to him. He kissed me, hard, on the mouth, breathlessly muttering “You are so beautiful,” and proceeded to cover my whole neck with kisses, moving down my chest, planting those warm, wet lips on every square inch of my tanned skin. He brought his hands up to the indent of my waist and then took a breast into his mouth, expertly sucking and twirling and nibbling over my hard nipples. Another moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth to the other breast, quickly using his hand to replace where his lips had just been.
Fuck, this boy was good with his fingers. And mouth. And oh, he's pushing back up into my pelvis now as I'm spreading circles over his. I am so aware of my slick wetness down there. Ed finishes sucking on my hard nipple and brings his lips up to meet mine, opening my own mouth with his skilled lips and tongue, a soft moan spilling out of his mouth this time.
I sit back up, pushing off of his sexy, strong chest and straddling him properly again. For a moment, his eyes just glare into my own and I can almost see him thinking, considering his next move or searching for the right words to say.
“Penny for your thoughts, sir?” I say, half teasing, half really curious as to what's going on behind those beautiful baby blues.
“I'm... just.. thinking about how it was my idea to take this slowly, and now you're practically naked in my bed, on top of me... panties soaking wet,” He brushed his thumb over the sheer fabric of my panties, right over my slit. “and you're so fucking beautiful, and cool, and now I want to do anything but take it slow.”
“Oh.” Yup. I got nothin'.
“I want to do right by you, Kendra, but I so badly want to make you feel good, right now, too.”
My heart like, basically just stopped. I must have looked like deer in the headlights, I could see the worry growing in his eyes every second that I was silent. He openened his mouth again, probably to apologize, but I quickly put a stop to that by bringing our lips together, yet again, trying to put all of my feelings into a single kiss, like some unspoken conversation, and I think Ed felt the same way too. He rolled to the side and, hands on my hips, guided me to lie flat on the mattress, his heavenly fucking body coming on top of mine.
His weight on me felt so good, so right. His mouth is everywhere, biting my ears, suckling on my neck, planting wet kisses all over my decolletage.. my hands come up and grip is muscular back, trying to touch every square inch of him to me. I'm moaning now, freely, as his hands grip up and down my body from my breasts, to my hips, up to my waist, over my stomach, and travel back downward, Ed shifting his whole body down towards my center, leaving kisses the entire way.
My entire body felt fucking electric.
Ed sat back on his heels, gently pulling my pelvis up into his lap, kind of at an upwards angle. Holy shit. He traced the outline of my panties, fingers dancing over the edges. He looks up to me, like he's waiting for the green light, and I nod my head, yes, it’s all I could muster.
He reached back to grab my ankle, bending my leg and bringing it forward, leaving little kisses all up and down my calf in the process. Putting that foot down flat on the bed, he took in my other ankle and does it all over again. I am silently whimpering at this point, the anticipation just fucking killing me. I have never been this turned on and he’s barely even touched me.
He hooked his fingers around the elastic of my panties and lifted my ass a bit, peeling away the white lace fabric from my body. My panties were stuck around my thighs now, as he picked up my left knee, threading the panties off around my foot, and wrapping my leg around his waist. Once more, same on the other side, I watched him tuck my ankle snugly around him, finally free of the last piece of fabric covering me. I tightened my grip on his torso a bit and heard a little groan escape his lips. He scratched the top of my thighs lightly, and brought his hands up to cover my lower belly, his thumbs just barely resting on my mound.
There was something so sensual about it… just barely enough light in the room for me to watch him, gazing so intently down there, at me. He moved one of this thumbs down to the bottom of my wet slit, dragging upward so slowly, barely dipping in, opening me up just a bit... and with that, it was fucking real, and suddenly the logical side of my brain turned on, realizing that I could count on one hand the number of times that I’d actually been able to come from someone else stimulating me. I froze.
“Teddy,” I choke out. “Wait.”
His pretty pink lips were parted, still staring straight down. He stopped immediately, bringing his gaze up to mine.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to… I, um, I have a hard time.. getting there.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Kenn, that doesn’t matter to me,” Another beat passes. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” I answer, without thinking.
He swept down to kiss me, no tongue, his lips just pressing up against my own. He brushed the hair off of my forehead, his chest covering my own, and I couldn’t get over the feel of his skin on my skin. He moved his mouth over to the side of my faced and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you, love.”
I wrapped my fingers up in the tousled locks on the back of his head, pulling his forehead to my own, staring up into those endless eyes. I nodded again, giving him a non-verbal yes.
He sat back on his heels again, making direct eye contact with me, biting his bottom lip, and shifted his gaze back down to my glistening nether regions.
He laid one hand flat on my pelvis, kind of grounding me. And then that thumb was back on my slit, dipping in, running bottom-to-top, again and again, deliriously slowly. I pushed my pelvis up towards him, my body reacting on its own, seeking friction. Ed added another finger into the mix, slipping further into my folds. It was both torture and bliss; his almost-rough fingertips just exploring me so patiently. I watched him watching himself touch me and holy fuck that was such a turn on, I thought about feeling self-conscious about it, but the horny side of me won that battle out pretty quickly.
His thumb came up to the top of my slit and rubbed slow circles in one direction, then back the other way. I grabbed fistfuls of sheets on either side of me and rocked my hips up towards Ed again. “Mmm, more, baby,” I muttered. He smirked then, and sunk his perfect middle finger all the way inside me.
I flexed my feet out, toes curling in, taking in the sight of this sexy man, all strong shouldered and rainbow design. Ed switched hands, removing his left from my pelvis and sinking his thick thumb into my opening, and picking up the rhythm on my clit again with his right hands, small circles and then bigger ones and back to small, all clockwise now.
“God, you are so fucking sexy,” Ed muttered as he slipped another finger inside me, picking up the tempo a bit and adding a little twist into his movements.
He was so steady, unwavering, so focused on what he was doing, and I bucked my hips up and pointed my toes and felt a faint warmth building low in my body.
I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to the side. “Fuck,” I whined, “just like that, yeah,” The warmth was building, Ed's fingers slipping in and out of my wet opening in perfect time with that rhythm he was playing in circles over my clit, he had me balanced out on this precipice of pleasure. The warmth was turning into a dull ache now, my back arched, and Ed was right there with me.
He sped up his rhythm just a tick and it intensified everything. “Baby…” I groaned out,  turning my eyes back to see him watching my face now, biting on his lower lip again. Fuck.
He switched to a 'come hither’ motion, then, stroking my walls in just the right spot, and I fell over the edge instantly. I cried out, contorting my torso, squeezing my legs around his waist, still holding onto the sheets with my small fists for dear life.
I rode out the small aftershocks, stunned, and loosened the grip I had on Ed with my legs. I looked up to see the Smirk™ plastered across his face. He set my pelvis down, slipping out of his sat-back position and came to lie down next to me, threading his arms around me and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I was still practically panting.
“That was… so good, Teddy, I can't believe I --”
“You are incredible, woman, come here.” and he nuzzled in closer, pulling the duvet back over our bodies. I turned to lie on my side, letting him be the big spoon again. I was very aware of his penis, hard, against my back. I wanted very much to make an introduction, but before I knew it, my heavy lids closed and sleep took me once again.
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ahumanfemale · 8 years
Text
Snipe Hunting - II
Summary:  Donna reciprocates Dean’s romantic gesture.
Author: (A)HumanFemale
Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum
Warnings:  Fluffy smut.
It had been close to three months once Donna got everything in place.  
Three months of requests and paperwork and signatures, eventually wearing down her romantic gesture to something that felt more like a chore.  Donna didn’t have the flare for romance that Dean did, anyway.  He always said the right things while she stammered around her feelings.  She told him in other ways - feeding him, doing his laundry.  Bringing Baby back to him with a full tank of gas.  Stitching him up.  
Keeping him close in the middle of the night, when he wakes up unsure of where he is.
Taking him into her body so deep he forgets he's hurting.
It was the closest she could get to screaming it from the rooftops, where everyone in the world could hear her.  And something told her that Dean wouldn’t be crazy about that anyway.  So she made calls and stood in lines and signed her name roughly a billion times out of love.  Love for the man who saved the world about eighty different times and still thought he was worthless.  Love for the man who’d seen through her insecurities and brought out the hunter in her - strong, brave.  Fierce and fucking fearless so long as he was next to her.
It was love that drug her out in a snowstorm to cover the distance between Stillwater and Lebanon, going unbearably slow and checking the envelope next to her every hour or so.  Her phone stayed on the charger the whole way.  She was waiting on a crucial phone call before the end of the day and she hadn’t had a peep yet, making her even more nervous than she already was.  She twisted the silver ring on her finger, feeling it warm against her skin as she drove.  Calling up the bravery he’d taught her, she pulled in front of the bunker and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat.  The envelope sat on top - a neon billboard of anxiety, blinking on and off to remind her of what she was doing.  Her mood blinked with it.
Nervous.
Confident.
Nervous.
Ignoring that insecure voice in the back of her head, she texted Sam to let him to know she was there.  Dean’s brother had been perfect in this affair, offering to sneak her in and keeping her secret.  He met her at the door, ushering her inside and locking it again.  
“Hey,” Sam said, wincing against the cold.  “You made it just in time.  The weather’s getting bad.”
“Does he know I’m here?” she asked in a stage whisper, shaking the snow off of her boots.  She didn’t want to ruin the surprise this early.
“Nah.  He’s down in the garage, doing something.”
“I’m going to steal your shower if that’s okay.  I don’t want him to catch me.”
“Go for it.  I’ll be in the library.”  He gave her a pained smile.  “Out of your way.  Maybe with headphones.”
“You hush,” she ordered as she took off toward Sam’s room.  “Did you boys eat already?  I can whip something up if ya want.”
“We’re good,” he assured her as she walked.  “Oh, Donna?  You have to wiggle the hot water a bit if you don’t want to die of frostbite.  But don’t wiggle too hard or you’ll melt.”
She made a face.  
“Old pipes,” Sam said apologetically.  “Yell at me if you need something.”
“You betcha.”
Donna didn’t know what he could possibly help her with but she was thankful for the offer.  
It took close to two hours for her to wash away the long drive and the tiredness in her bones, primping in front of Sam’s utilitarian mirror and humming.  Overall, she was pleased with her work.  She’d blow-dried and crimped her hair, turning it into a chaotic riot of curls that framed her face.  She had to use her industrial-grade concealer to cover the circles under her eyes but that was okay.  Compensating was easy if you had mascara and cleavage, and Donna had an abundance of both.  
Particularly in her form-fitting red dress, plunging neckline cinched tight to give the girls a boost.  The rest of the dress clung to her skin, stretching over her waist and the generous width of her hips before flowing out to swirl around her legs.  The silhouette made her curves look like dynamite and the brick red made her look tan, even in the midst of her winter paleness.  Hidden on her left side was a slit that bordered on indecent, starting at the hem and stretching up until a few scant inches under her hip were all that remained.  
Seeing the dress in the store window had made her stop in the street and bringing it home had been her own dirty little secret.  She’d been saving it for a special occasion, feeling a little stupid because she never went anywhere that would require that level of dressing up.  It hadn’t occurred to her until she was packing that maybe she didn’t have to go out to wear it, since there was only one pair of eyes she wanted on her anyway.
She walked out of Sam’s room to dump all her stuff in Dean’s room instead, clutching her envelope to her chest as she ventured down the hallway.  Her phone stayed in her hand, still waiting for that phone call.  Cheese and rice, they were cutting this close.  She’d left her shoes off and was regretting it - the stone floor was freezing.  Sam had kept his promise and was holed up in the library, looking over some textbook she could read cover to cover and still not understand.  She waved at him as she passed, twirling her skirt.  He laughed and gave her a once-over, followed by a hearty thumbs-up.
Score one for Donna.
The garage was situated lower than the rest of the bunker and Donna let herself wander on autopilot, finding her way with very little effort now.  She found the door she was looking for and opened it as quietly as possible before tip-toeing down the stairs.  As she reached the bottom she could see Dean at his makeshift workbench, sketching something on a piece of grid paper.  The desk lamp was bright in his eyes and she watched as he rubbed the heel of his hand into them, blinking against fatigue.  He picked up the pencil again, worrying it against his lips.  
He was beautiful.
“Hey you,” she said once she’d reached the landing.  She held the envelope behind her back along with her phone, partly because she wanted to hide them and partly because she really wanted him to notice her dress.  
Dean’s gaze jerked up from his paper in surprise to find her in the room with him, mouth opening slightly.  He must have liked it because he looked at her like she was a piece of pie he couldn't wait to get his lips around.  It was a look that worked on her like a drug, making her antsy and already testing her self control.  He cleared his throat and swallowed, staring intensely as she walked toward him.
“You're here.”
She grinned.  “Noticed that, did ya?”
“Hard not to,” he replied as she came to stand between his legs.
“Ya busy?”
“No, I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on the job and this is all a dream,” he told her and as he reached out to smooth his big hands over her hips.  “You look… God, Donna.”
She couldn’t help the flush that tinged her cheeks.  “You sweet-talker.”
“What’s the occasion?  ” he asked, still running his hands over her sides.  The warmth of his skin greeted her through the fabric of her dress and traveled outward.  “My birthday isn’t until next week.”
“I’ve got something for ya.”
“Other than you?”
She laughed.  “Other than me.”
“If it’s this dress, I accept.”
“It’s kind of the dress.”  She held up the envelope, wishing she could stop the tiny shakes in her hands.  “But this goes with it.”
“Hmm,” he said, looking at it.  Without warning he stood and grabbed her under her thighs to lift her up, heaving her flush against his body before sweeping his work to the side and setting her down on his desk in front of him.  It never failed to turn her knees to jelly when he did that.  Her dress parted at the slit, exposing the length of her leg and his eyes darted to the newly exposed skin.  His tongue snuck out to wet his bottom lip.
“I'm definitely dreaming.”
“Focus,” she reminded him, waving the envelope in front of his face.
“I'm getting there,” he insisted, brushing his fingers around her knee.  The calluses scraped, bringing up goosebumps.  “Don't rush me.”
Donna kept her mouth shut and let him take his time, barely managing to stay still while his hands fluttered and danced over up her legs and across her waist.  He moseyed his way up to her chest, massaging and circling his thumbs until her head tilted back with a sigh. Finally he pulled her back up to face him and kissed her, tongue dipping in for a taste. Gosh, this man.  He could make her heart gallop like a racehorse.  
Dean pulled back, looking satisfied when he noticed her heaving breaths.
“Hi,” he said sweetly, as though he hadn't just revved her engine to kingdom come.  
“Hiya,” she breathed.  
“Alright, let's take a look at this,”  he said, taking her whole life in his hands when he removed that envelope from her grasp.  He opened the clasp and took out a credit card, holding it up and frowning.  “I think this is considered entrapment, Sheriff.”
“And here I thought you were observant.”
Dean scowled, going back to the card in his hand.  “Alright, it's a chipped Visa that expires in two years issued to-”
He paused and his eyes jumped up to hers.
“- Donna Winchester.”
He set the card down, taking out the next.
“Debit card, Donna Winchester.”
A smile threatened to form, lighting him up.  For a moment she could imagine what he was like twenty years ago, before life had knocked him around.
“Social security card, Donna Jean Winchester.  Car registration, insurance, CPR certification.”  He put the pile of cards to the side, looking at her intensely.  “You did it.”
“Yah.  I did it.”
Her phone rang, interrupting the staring match between them.  Dean looked surprised when she reached for it, apparently expecting her to ignore it.  Any other day she would have but she had a feeling she wanted to take this one.  A glance at the caller ID confirmed that it was the call she’d been waiting for all day.
“Hello?” she answered, pressing the phone to her ear.  Dean tilted himself into her, standing in the welcoming cradle of her thighs and leaning down to run his lips over the racing pulse at her neck.
A gruff voice asked, “Is this Donna?”
“Yes, this is Donna Winchester,” she answered, pleased with the rush of air against her throat.  The sound of her new name hit him like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of him and spurring him into action.  His hands gripped her waist and pulled her to the very edge of the desk, forcing her to wrap her legs around him to keep from falling.  Her dress fell open.
“Chief?”  she interrupted when she realized she hadn’t heard a word he’d been saying, “Hold on, you broke up for a second.  Let me put you on speaker.”
She tapped the button and set the phone down next to them, bringing her arms to wrap around Dean’s neck while his fingers traced her spine.  
“Okay, go ahead.  What was that?”
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I was telling you that your transfer was approved,” he told her and Dean’s head came up, confused.  He’d heard her talk about needing a change but didn’t know she’d put in for a transfer.  “The city council had a peek at your resumé before they voted and they transferred you in almost unanimously.”
She met Dean’s eyes when she responded, “Chief, that’s great news!  I can’t tell ya how excited I am to be joining the team.  You’re really making my day here.”
“We’re happy to have you.  Is a month long enough for you to relocate?  We're really pretty desperate for you.”
“Oh, I might could manage half that if I can talk some boys into helping.”
“Good.  Welcome to Kansas, Sheriff Winchester.”
Donna thanked him again and ended the call, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her.  For once his expression was unreadable.
“You missed the last card in there, handsome,” she teased softly. He said nothing, slowly removing a hand from her back to reach into the envelope next to her.  He pulled out the last card, looking at the Kansas driver’s license so hard it might explode. The silence continued and all Donna’s fears came roaring back.
Maybe her living in Minnesota was working for him.  
Maybe he didn't want her in the bunker, getting in his way all the time.
Maybe he hates that she didn't talk to him about this first.
Maybe this wasn't what he'd had in mind when he put that ring on her finger.
She braced herself against that last one.  It hurt to think about.
“I don't want ya to think I'm moving myself in,” she blurted out, the words leaving her in a rush.  “If you want I can just get an apartment in town.  The new job is in the next county over so I can find a place there I bet.”
“No.”
Oh, gosh.
“No what?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper. She was doing her level best not to cry - she was such an idiot at this. “No living here, no apartment? No me?”
“No apartment,” he answered gruffly.  “No living the next town over.  No more living apart.  I want you here, Donna.  If I'd known this was something you wanted I would have asked you a long time ago.  I wanted to and I talked myself out of it every time because I wasn’t ready to hear you say you’d rather stay in Minnesota.”
Her chest deflated, relief just about turning her inside out.
“This is real?” he asked, holding up the new driver’s license.  She nodded.
“One hundred percent.  Stood in line for an hour and everything, arguing with the clerk that the name change was fine because I had it legally changed on my social security card.”
“You didn't have to,” he reminded her but he clearly didn't mind, hands taking hold of her calves and massaging his fingers into them.  The skin of his neck flushed, telling her that his thoughts were slowly but surely turning elsewhere.
“I wanted to.”  She reached up to cup his jaw in her hand, feeling the scratch of stubble across her palm.  “You’re already a part of me, Dean.  The name was just a formality.”
His body grew taut, the line of his back straightening.  She could feel the ache in the pit of his stomach as though it were her own, knowing now how Dean surrendered himself to the sensation of wanting her.  Recognition of the familiar settled in.  Dean dragged his callused hands over her legs, teasing as he neared the meager scrap of lace that separated them.  He wouldn’t touch her there.  Not yet.  First he’d kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything other than him.  He’d leave marks across her chest and down her stomach in the process of working his way around to taste her.
Dean’s fingers brushed over her, interrupting her train of thought.
Or maybe not.
He kept his touch feather-light, just teasing the barest surface of her skin under the lace.  Little sparks of feeling erupted, lighting her up.  Donna arched into him, crushing her chest against the hardened wall of muscle in front of her and tightened her arms around his neck.  It was all the permission he needed to step back from her embrace and shove the material of her dress out of the way so he could hook his fingers in her panties and tear them off her.  
Dean wasn’t playing around today.
His fingers found her unerringly, like he’d been made to do this to her.  She suspected he had.  He had been made to slide between her folds, seeking and giving simultaneously while she bucked into him.  His thumb brushed the tight bud of her clit and she soared, wondering for the first time if she was made for him too.  It sure felt like it, his fingers stretching her out until the burn was all she could feel.
The emptiness made her ache when he took his fingers from her.  She didn’t have the chance to protest, though, not when they slid up to cover the cluster of nerves at her center.  He circled, applying pressure at seemingly random intervals.  Donna yelped but canted her hips up anyway - her body never seemed to be able to decide wanted from him, especially here.  It wanted everything he had.  All of it, all at once.  
Dean didn’t relent, rubbing his fingers in ever-tightening circles across that pearl of flesh.  Her eyes closed and she let go of her hold around his neck, leaning back on her hands to stay upright.  The intensity was killing her but that seemed to be what he wanted.  He reveled in every cry and jerk of her muscles, pushing her closer to the edge with manic glee in his eyes.
“Please,” she murmured uselessly, his attention elsewhere.  He gave her a quick kiss but went back to his task, scraping the pads of his fingers over her clit.  She shook.  “Dean - oh, fudge - Dean, please.”
She expected him to pull away, to get inside her already.  She didn’t plan on him centering every bit of his energy on killing her, pinching her between his fingers and flicking intermittently.  It was harsh, almost painful, and she flinched even as her body pistoned up for more.  Dean kept going.  She felt her orgasm retreating to the background and she cursed before realizing that there was a tidal wave building.  Deep inside her, muscles trembled and bunched in anticipation.   Her legs tightened around him, she clutched at the desk without gaining purchase, and he never relented.  
Blood pounded.
Heart stuttered.
Toes curled.
Lungs heaved, and then she was gone.
Coming so hard she saw stars behind her closed eyes and collapsed onto the desk behind her only to arch her back off of it again when the onslaught continued.  Her entire body felt like a wildfire; doused in kerosene and left to burn.  Dean’s touch calmed, slowed, grew gentler as she came down.  She could hear the echo of screams in her ear but didn’t recognize them as her own, not when the next sound she heard was that of Dean’s zipper and his hoarse apology.
“I’m sorry,” he told her roughly, shoving his jeans down just far enough to free himself from their confines.  “I’m sorry, I can’t wait.”
He hooked her legs over his arms and then they were one, Dean’s rigid flesh sliding home in an instant.  She tensed, shaking.  Her body still felt like it was attached to jumper cables and the slide of Dean’s thick head within her didn’t do much to help.  Her hips came off the desk and he used it in his favor, pulling her against him at the same time he thrusted into her.  She felt the resulting pressure all the way to the top of her head and it was possible her eyes may have rolled back.  
Dean didn’t believe in messing with a good thing so it was there he stayed, yanking her onto him and spearing himself into her.  Over and over, until the garage echoed with the sound of slapping skin and her wanton moans.  Even Dean was vocal, and he was usually content to enjoy her noises without adding his own.  Now he had to tell her how perfect she looked and how much he wanted her; how tight she was around him, and how much he needed her to come with him.
She did, just because he asked so sweetly.
Her body clenched and pulled him in, wrenching his release from him before she’d come down from her own high.  Dean choked, eyes scrunched closed while he came.  Donna could feel it filling her up, the torrid weight of his cock pulsing inside her and sending shockwaves through her overwrought nerve endings.  He gasped and groaned, cursed and pleaded until his body relaxed and he pulled air back into his lungs like it was the sweetest oxygen he’d ever tasted.  
It took him a minute but he reached for her and pulled her back up to lean against him, wrapping her up in the furnace of his body.  She jolted as he slipped from her body, a soft cry leaving her throat.  Dean dressed himself again and pulled her off the desk, turning to keep her in his lap while he sat back in the chair.  Donna wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head on his chest, uncaring about the noise or the fact that it probably wasn’t very comfortable for either of them.
“I still think I’m dreaming,” Dean croaked into her hair, rubbing his hand over her back.
Donna laughed.  “I’m dreaming with ya, then.”
“You’re really coming to live here?”
“Or my name isn’t Donna Winchester,” she joked, tilting her head up when she felt his finger on her chin.  
“Your name is Donna Winchester,” he repeated, seemingly in awe.
“Yes it is.”
“And you’re coming to live with me.”
“Yes I am.”
He leaned down for a kiss, stealing her breath because this was one of the rare moments that his feelings were broadcasted across his face.  This man loved her.  He loved her a whole helluva lot.
“Does this mean I can wear my ring now?” he asked.
“You have your own ring?”
“Well, yeah,” he said as though that should have been obvious to her.  “I made them together.”
“Well put it on already!”
Donna stood so he could get up, collapsing back in the chair once he started rummaging through the desk they’d just thoroughly debauched.  He found it in a drawer, hidden in a little velvet pouch.  Something told her the ring on her finger had started out there, too.  He turned and held it up to her.  It was the same as hers but with a wider band, made bigger to go over his knuckle.  She reached for it and held it in her hand, letting her see the two side by side.
“It doesn’t have the engraving on the inside,” he commented as she grabbed his left hand and pulled him closer.
“Don’t worry,” she told him, sliding the ring onto his finger.  “I know just what I’m going to put.”
Forever.  Donna.  
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