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osarina · 2 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 OFFER ME MY DEATHLESS DEATH

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: one drunken encounter with dazai sends everything spiraling. suddenly, all of your problems are catching up to you at once and you're lost as to how you should proceed... or that's not entirely true—you know how you're going to proceed but it's impossible for you to come to terms with how far you've let this go.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: sorry that i haven't really been active this week </3 i've been so busy. ill try to get to asks and everything soon. forgive me</3 i hope you guys enjoy part 5, i rlly had fun writing this chapter. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. reader and dazai argue, reader is a bit intoxicated, dazai heavily implied suicide attempt (not outright said/described bc he can't remember, but he assumes that's what happened) & he dissociates, dazai is in a pretty bad mental state the first half of the chapter, i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

You stopped seeking him out after that night.

Dazai sits in his apartment, knees curled to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He has to forcibly keep his breath steady—his homework for his engineering class is discarded somewhere to his left, he’d been working on it for class tomorrow before he made the mistake of checking his phone and seeing that you’d once again stopped reading his messages.

Two days straight now of silence on your end. He could go to your apartment like he’s been doing for the past two weeks but every time he tries to push himself to his feet with the intention of going to you, he finds himself rooted to the ground. Your words ring damningly and persistently through his head—how you told Nakahara Chuuya that you’re only doing this because he found the proof of your occupation, how you told him that you tried to cut him off.

Dazai knew what he was doing by using the video as leverage over you. He knew he was forcing you into indulging him, that he was backing you into a corner, but he’d allowed himself to be blinded by your treatment of him.

Even if it was coerced, no one has ever treated him the way you do—you remember the things he tells you off-handedly like he matters and you buy him the things he wants without him having to say anything like you care. You’re gentle with him—Dazai has only ever experienced bruising touches; Oda and Ango weren’t physical people and he can hardly remember his mother. He remembers the way his aunt dragged him out of the car kicking and screaming, tossing him to the ground in Suribachi before driving away. He remembers all of the nights he would get drunk at bars, ending up in strangers’ beds and waking up with a body that ached painfully and dark marks littered across his bandaged skin.

It’s hard to remember that you don’t actually want him when you treat him the same way he’s dreamed someone would treat him one day. It’s hard to remember that you turn your head away when he leans in to kiss you, that you ignore his lingering touches and change the subject whenever he almost gathers the nerve to bring the topic up to you.

You don’t want him.

He’s forcing you to do this by using the video as leverage.

You don’t want him.

He rests his forehead on his knees. That gaping hole in his chest that had started to return that night after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment is all consuming now. His entire body feels numb and prickly, he feels uncomfortable in his own skin.

He needs to put a stop to this.

His gaze draws from his knees to the floorboard he’s hiding the flash drive under. He could just… get rid of it. Get rid of it and disappear—you probably wouldn’t even notice. Maybe you would, he remembers how you came to his apartment when you hadn’t heard from him after sending the couch. Then again, you might’ve only shown up because you wanted to lie about why you were cutting him off. Dazai just doesn’t know with you.

Maybe he should just go to talk to you.

But if he talks to you… and the thought of leaving his apartment right now…

Dazai sighs, leaning back against the wall, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling, weighing both options carefully before coming to a heavy decision.

You’re not in your apartment when he gets there.

Dazai would usually wander around and find something to make himself busy with while he waits for you. You have a piano on the opposite side of the room that he sometimes likes to fiddle with—he’s taught himself a few basic songs while waiting for you to get back from work the past few weeks. He ordered a gaming console and a few games to go along with it when you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open last week, but he doesn’t even have the energy to go look for one; not that any are even particularly standing out to him. Sometimes, he just snoops around, but his legs feel like lead, like they’re bolted to the ground, so he just sits on your couch and stares at the black television screen as the minutes tick by.

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting there—too long, it was still light out when he walked his way over to your building in Naka-ku and the sun had set a long time ago. He’s never felt lonely in your apartment before; in fact, he usually seeks out your apartment because he feels lonely and whether you’re here or not, it eases the void that grows in his chest.

But now? Each passing second, he feels colder and colder. A part of him thinks that he should take this as a sign and just leave, but his body is uncooperative, keeping him rooted to your couch as he awaits your return.

He’s planned out what he’s going to say to you; he’s rehearsed it in his head so many times that he thinks he could say the dreadful words while sleeping. Now, he just-

Dazai’s head snaps to the side when he hears the fateful ding of the elevator arriving at your floor. His eyes widen and his tongue swells with anxiety as he stares at the doors, his breath slows and his fingers bite into his pants as he waits to see you step into the room but when the doors finally start to slide open, he freezes when he hears laughter.

“I can’t stand you,” an unfamiliar male voice snorts and Dazai’s mouth dries as his gaze darts around, trying to figure out what to do. The last thing he wants is for a repeat of the other night—if this is another one of your mafia friends, Dazai has to move, but he doesn’t know where to go.

His gaze settles on a nearby hall leading to the bathroom and an unused room—it’s closer to him than the kitchen, he’d never make it to the kitchen because he’d have to go right past the elevator. His legs feel so heavy that it’s an effort for him to push himself to his feet. He almost stumbles right over them as he rushes into the spare room, keeping the door cracked open so he can hear and see what’s going on.

He peeks carefully through the crack, watching as two men enter your apartment—you’re with them and Dazai’s chest tightens painfully at the sight of you. You’re smiling as you lean against one of the men—Dazai recognizes him as the man who had come with you to his apartment complex the first time, he’d been waiting by the car for you—and you’re dressed prettily in a short black dress. You’re so dazzling to him that Dazai nearly tumbles right out of the room he’s hiding in, but luckily, he’s drawn out of his dazed state by another unfortunately familiar face: Nakahara Chuuya, the executive who had been at your apartment the other night.

Dazai quickly leans back into the room when the ginger’s eyes snap down the hall as if he could sense someone watching him. He lets out a puff of air as he looks around the empty room—he’d looked in here before when he first started coming to your apartment, but had been sorely disappointed by the fact that there was nothing in the room for him to snoop around in.

Now, he blinks because while the room is still mostly empty, there are some tools in here as if you’d had someone come in to take measurements to start building something in there. His gaze slides from the far wall to the one nearest to him, dragging his feet against the wood floors to slide his fingers against the lines drawn on the wall in pencil, realizing that it’s about the same size as the piano in the other room.

His throat tightens as he remembers your offer from the other day, wondering if you’d gone ahead and started having it done even after the argument with Chuuya and Dazai not showing up for two days.

God, he doesn’t understand you—he doesn’t understand you at all. He starts to doubt every conclusion he’s come to the past two days because why would you go to these lengths for someone you don’t care about? For someone who’s forcing you into indulging him through blackmail? It doesn’t make sense, Dazai has never had so much trouble reading someone before you.

He leans against the wall, lashes lowering as he looks down at the floor. He doesn’t know what to think and now his well-rehearsed speech starts crumbling in his head. Distantly, he can hear the conversation between you and the other two mafiosos—you’re talking about something happening in Tokyo and Dazai wonders if it has anything to do with that argument from the other night.

But regardless of the topic of discussion, what matters more is that you sound happy. Your voice is light and airy, and you seem entirely unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t seen Dazai in days. Dazai doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so happy with him before and why would you when he’s blackmailing you? Your laughter rings bright and pretty like a chime and Dazai feels sick to his stomach at the thought of you laughing like that for someone else; he imagines the way your laughter will fizzle when you see him, all of the liveliness in your face dying at his unanticipated appearance.

It feels like an eternity and all too soon at the same time when Dazai finally hears the two leave. He takes one deep breath, preparing to force himself out from where he’s hiding but then freezes at the sound of you raising your voice.

“Dazai, you can come out now.”

He blanches, staring at the partially closed door in front of him, half-debating on not even coming out because how did you know he was here? He thought he’d been careful, there’s-

“I know you’re somewhere in here, the cushion was warm where you were sitting.”

Dazai has half a mind to throw himself out of the window.

He takes in a deep breath as he pushes the door open, stepping out into the hallway that’s suddenly too cold and all too short. He swears it was twice as long when he was stumbling from the couch to hide in the spare room. His feet scuffle against the ground as he walks forward, not coming any closer than where the hallway meets your living room.

You’re laying on the couch he’d been sitting on, head resting back against the pillows and a curious expression on your face as you watch him. He can’t read it—if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was fond, but he refuses to let that hope bubble up into his chest only for it to be crushed again. He thinks he should say something, tossing around a few options in his head, but he doesn’t get the chance to.

You hold out your hand to him. “Come here,” you say.

Dazai hesitates, eyes lingering on your extended hand before flitting back up to your face. He shouldn’t—he knows he shouldn’t—but he finds his feet moving forward before he can stop himself. He stands in front of you awkwardly for a moment, not sure what you want from him, but then his eyes shoot open when you reach out and grab his wrist, tugging him forward onto the couch with you.

He pretends he doesn’t yelp when he lands on top of you, face flaming up when he shifts himself into a sitting position so that he’s straddling your waist, trying not to drop all of his weight onto you. He also pretends that he’s not entirely thrown off by the way your hands rest on his thighs, absently running them up and down the sides of them.

“Where have you been the past few days?” you ask him quietly.

Dazai’s blood pressure spikes at the curious look you give him, as if he hadn’t been texting you for days with no response. He can smell the alcohol on you now that he’s closer and he wonders how much you drank—he thinks that’s probably why you looked so fond before and that’s probably why you’re suddenly being so touchy with him, it has nothing to do with him. That empty feeling in his chest starts to return.

He should have just left, should have just destroyed the flash drive and disappeared.

“I texted you,” he replies tightly, feeling wildly uncomfortable as he’s unable to get a hold on the way he’s spiraling internally. “I can see you’ve been busy though.”

You tilt your head to the side as if you’re unsure of what he means and Dazai almost wants to get up and leave but the feeling of your hands on him, his lower body pressed to yours, it leaves him dizzy and slow. His breath catches as your hands slip beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing out against his bandaged sides, thumb drawing slow circles over the covered skin as if trying to calm him down.

Dazai thinks he might hate you.

He thinks he might hate himself more because it works. His heartbeat slows and relaxes into you a bit more. He wants to take you by the shoulders and shake you, wants to demand answers, wants to know if you actually care about him or if this is all just some big show for the flash drive.

“I haven’t looked at my phone,” you finally say. “I’ve been the one dealing with the issues in Tokyo. It’s just been meeting after meeting the past few days. I thought you’d be here when I got back but you weren’t.”

Were you waiting for him? He wants to ask. Expecting him? Or are you just saying that because you can tell he’s unhappy and don’t want to deal with his attitude? Dazai just doesn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate with your hands on his body.

“Can we talk?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments.

“What about?”

About the flash drive. About you. About him. Dazai doesn’t know—about everything. So, instead he just says: “About this.”

Instantly, you turn your head away from him and Dazai’s frustration rises at your attempt at blatantly ignoring him. He reaches out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him and Dazai’s breath catches when your lidded stare lands on him.

“I’m drunk,” you tell him flatly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Bullshit,” Dazai immediately snaps, the pads of his fingers digging a bit too hard into your cheeks but you’re unfazed by it, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. “I think-”

Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence because you’re pushing yourself up from your laying position, one hand slipping out from his sweatshirt to cup the back of his head, the other still firm on his hip as you drag him down against you. Dazai’s breath catches when you press your lips against his, lashes fluttering shut. The hand on his hip slides around to his back, holding his body flush to yours—he lets out a low moan into your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip.

No, he thinks hazily, trying to push himself off of you but instead, his hands cup your cheeks and he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your tongues dance in a way that leaves him dazed, it feels almost intimately familiar to him, somehow so in tune with one another that it’s like you’ve kissed hundreds of times before.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows this. You said it yourself that you’re drunk, he knows you only kissed him to get him to stop talking but…Dazai sighs into your mouth when he feels the tips of your finger card through his hair, feeling you shift beneath him to let his hips slot between your legs.

But isn’t this what he’s wanted this whole time?

Aren’t you finally giving him what you’ve denied him for weeks?

Your lips are intoxicating against his, and not because of the gin staining your tongue, he can hardly focus on anything with the way your tongue traces the back of his teeth, dragging against the roof of his mouth. He groans when you shift beneath him, one leg hooking around his waist. He separates his lips from yours to gasp for breath.

Shit, he thinks, lips parting when you kiss his jaw, trailing your lips to his ear to suck gently on the skin there before kissing slowly down his neck. He swears his entire body is on fire, breaths quick and shuddered; his mind feels so muddled and hazy that he has to actively tell himself to put a stop to this and even that is almost not enough.

It takes all of his willpower to push himself off of you, still breathing heavy, lips wet and swollen, his whole body tingling everywhere your lips and hands had touched. You stare up at him and Dazai’s body aches with need when he sees you’re nearly as breathless as he is, your own lips wet from his, eyes a bit glazed over. Heat burns in his lower abdomen but he can’t, not when he knows you’re drunk and not when he knows you’re only doing this to get him to stop talking.

Before Dazai can say anything, you look away from him again and he knows that it’s over.

“I’m tired,” you say. “Help me get to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

Dazai’s lashes lower as he nods, leaning down to help you to your feet. Even with your heels kicked off, you wobble on your feet, so he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. The silence is almost foreboding as Dazai guides you up the stairs to your bedroom; you don’t make any move to break it, so Dazai does.

“We’re not going to talk about it in the morning, are we?” he asks quietly, looking down at you. You don’t look up at him and Dazai just wants you to at least look at him so when he gets you to the door of your bedroom, he stops and looks at you. You still don’t look at him. “Can you at least look at me?”

Dazai thinks he might be sick from the way you have to seemingly force yourself to look at him. Even drunk, he can see the displeasure plain on your face and it makes him want to curl in on himself again.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dazai,” you finally say, your voice is tight. “I want to go to bed.”

“I want to talk about it,” Dazai stresses. “I-”

Frustration flies across your face, emotions loosened in your intoxicated state. You turn away from him and slam open your bedroom door and Dazai winces, taking half a step back.

“It’s always what you want, Dazai,” you hiss.

Dazai’s heart sinks, shaking his head because he doesn’t want to hear where you’re going with this. “Stop.”

“For weeks, I have been catering to what you want and now I don’t want one thing and you throw a fucking tantrum over it. I don’t want to talk about this—I don’t want to talk about it now, I don’t want to talk about it in the morning, I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just leave it be?”

Dazai takes another step back, staring at you silently. His ears ring as your words echo through them and though he can watch your face shift from frustration to guilt, it doesn’t process in his head—not really, not when all he can hear are your words on repeat over and over again.

You reach out for him, fingers curling around his wrist but Dazai pulls his hand back, taking a step away from you, closer to the stairs. All of his fight or flight instincts are triggered, his body itches to run, to flee downstairs and get out of your apartment, but his legs are uncooperative, feet rooted to the ground as he stares at you blankly.

“I didn’t mean that,” you say after a few moments. “I didn’t-I just-”

“It’s okay,” Dazai replies, voice a bit distant even to his own ears. “I’ll drop it.”

“Dazai-”

“Let me help you get into bed,” Dazai interrupts, forcing a smile onto his face as he pushes himself forward. His movements feel weird and clunky, unnatural almost, but he successfully leads you into your room, pulling back the sheets to help you into bed. “C’mon.”

He helps you slip into the bed and pulls the sheets over you, there’s still that hazy look in your eyes as you look up at him and Dazai tries his best to make sure that the smile on his face doesn’t look strained. He’s pretty sure you can see through it even while drunk. You reach out to grab his wrist again and this time, Dazai doesn’t pull away.

“Stay here tonight,” you say quietly. “Lay down with me.”

“I have class in the morning.” Dazai shakes his head, as much as he might ache to stay in your presence, he thinks if he stays in it a moment longer, he might actually break down—he can’t get your words to stop echoing. Only a steadily crumbling dam is holding back the torrent of emotions ripping apart his chest. “I can’t.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“I have to get all of my books, and finish my homework,” he tells you. “I can’t.”

“We’ll leave early,” you press, leaning up on your elbows. “C-”

“I can’t,” Dazai stresses, taking a step back and shaking his head. “I can’t. I have to go.”

You look conflicted, but to his relief and distress, you finally let go of his wrist. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. After your classes. You finish at three, right? There’s a restaurant in Minami-ku I’ve been meaning to take you to.”

Dazai’s throat spasms as he swallows, shaking his head again. “I’m busy after class tomorrow. I have meetings for group projects.”

“When are they over? I’ll pick you up after.”

He feels a bit sick to his stomach as he looks up at your ceiling, in turmoil and unsure as to what to do. He knows you’re not doing this because you feel bad—not really—he knows it has to do with the flashdrive. He knows it. He thought it would be easier having someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, even if it was only because of blackmail because at least he would have someone, but he was wrong because this is a type of torture that Dazai just can’t endure any longer.

“I’m not going to want to do anything after, I’ll be drained.”

“Then we don’t have to do anything.” God, you won’t stop trying. You won’t stop trying and Dazai knows that if it wasn’t for that stupid flash drive, you’d have laughed in his face and told him to get out. He thinks he might actually throw up. “I’ll pick up the food before going to get you. We’ll stay in. Watch a movie.”

“No,” Dazai says, raising his voice now. “No. I’m just going to go back to my place. I have to go.”

Though his legs feel like lead and his body still yearns to be near yours, he forces himself to leave your room. Doesn’t look back when you call his name. Doesn’t hesitate at the top of the stairs when you tell him to wait. He nearly stumbles as he makes his way down the stairs and when he gets to the bottom instead of rushing toward the elevator, he sits on the arm of your couch, resting his head in his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.

You’re so frustrating. So impossible to read that it’s beginning to take a toll on Dazai. He doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on not having a conversation about all of this. He thought you would’ve wanted to have a conversation about it for the chance of getting the flash drive away from him.

You’ve done everything in your power to avoid any physical contact with him until now; only finally giving it to him when there’s an issue you really don’t want to talk about to try to distract him. Hell, you’d prefer to even talk to him about mafia business—you vented all about the issues with the Shimazaki-kai to him, and Dazai would think that’s the last thing you’d want to talk to him about.

It doesn’t make any sense.

He’s drawn from his thoughts at the sound of something buzzing against the ground a few feet away, frowning as he looks around and spots your phone on the ground, probably lost in your drunken attempts to get to the couch. He hesitates before pushing himself off the arm of the couch, taking a few steps toward it before kneeling down to pick it up.

He chews at the inside of his cheek as he stares down at the home screen of your phone, staring at Nakahara Chuuya’s name in the text notification. He knows that he shouldn’t go snooping. He knows it.

He does it anyway.

He spares one last glance up the stairs before unlocking your phone with the code he’s seen you put in hundreds of times by now, clicks on your message app and lets out a puff of air when he realizes that no, you hadn’t been lying. You have at least twenty unread message threads—Dazai’s is pinned at the top with Chuuya’s and someone called Mori, who you’ve never mentioned to him. There’s only one message thread you’ve evidently been reading the past few days considering there’s no dot next to it: Tolstoy, the last message being from a few hours ago.

He shouldn’t look. He knows he shouldn’t look.

He clicks on it anyway.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he scrolls to the top of the conversation—only a few message exchanges between the two of you, but they’re decently long.

Tolstoy: Do you still want Ilya? I can have him there by the end of next week, I just need him to finish up some business in Moscow first. You: Haven’t decided. You haven’t even given me the rundown on the side effects of his ability. I’m not going to use it if it’s going to fuck up his head—stop playing salesman and tell me what’s actually up with him. No ability comes without consequences. You know that. I know that. So stop fucking around.

Dazai suddenly has a sick feeling in his stomach, vision tunneling on the ‘him’ you’re speaking of in the messages. A foreboding air settles over him, dark and oppressive, he has to physically force himself to keep reading.

Tolstoy: We don’t know of any side effects. Haven’t used it enough to figure it out. You: So, you want me to use him as a lab rat? Be real, Tolstoy. Thought you had more respect for me than that. Tolstoy: I’m trying to help you. You want that kid’s memory wiped, I can have it done for you, it’s just a matter of how badly you want it done.

Dazai doesn’t read anymore than that. He drops your phone onto the couch, takes a step back, a step away. His mind spins, ears ringing as he stares down at—he doesn’t even know what he’s staring at. His vision is swimming and blurring—with tears, maybe? Or just from exhaustion? From panic? He can’t tell but he knows he’s not breathing properly and he knows he needs to leave, everything suddenly feels too suffocating, too enclosed.

He stumbles over to the elevator, slapping the button and leaning against the wall as he waits for it to come up to your floor. It takes long—too long, each second that passes feels like an eternity and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

There’s only one “him” that your texts could be referring to. And it makes sense—it makes sense, doesn’t it? It makes sense why you’re so willing to divulge confidential information if you don’t intend for him to keep the knowledge of it. Makes sense why you’ve been notably careless with leaving files around your apartment. Makes sense why you told him about your ability. He’d thought you were finally letting him in, letting him know you, but-but of course, you weren’t.

Of course, you weren’t.

You were just…you were just trying to keep him placated, feed him bits of information to keep him happy because you knew you weren’t going to let him keep the knowledge of it. That you were gonna wipe his memory of it, of you, and send him back into that cold, dark void that’s been following him around his entire life and-

The bing of the elevator startles him, he flinches and still, he can’t breathe. His skin feels numb and prickly, his bandages are scratching uncomfortably at the scars hidden beneath them and he can hardly see straight.

Dazai needs to go.

He needs to go.

You wake up with a dry mouth, a pounding headache and an oddly foreboding feeling hanging about you. You push yourself into a sitting position, grimacing at the sun blinding you through the window—you don’t remember much of the night. You vaguely recall leaving the club last night with Albatross and Chuuya, the two of them incessantly bitching about dealing with you while you were drunk but in your defense, you think you deserved it after three days straight of meetings with the Shimazaki-kai on behalf of the Sun and Steel.

Everything after leaving the club is a blur. You grimace as you push yourself out of bed, glancing around to see if you’d dropped your phone anywhere near the bed only to come up empty-handed. You don’t even bother to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, anxious to find your phone and figure out what happened once you left the club.

You pray to god that it’s downstairs and you hadn’t left it at the club, making your way out of the bedroom with a sigh. You doubt Chuuya or Albatross would’ve been dumb enough to leave it there, but you’re pretty sure they were both drunk too and neither of them are functioning drunks.

You’re not even halfway through the door frame when pain shoots through your head, sharp and uncomfortable and then-

“It’s always what you want, Dazai.”

Suddenly, that foreboding feeling you awoke with makes sense. You stare ahead blankly as you remember who exactly was waiting for you at your apartment after you got back from the club. You remember the argument, you remember the crushed expression that crossed his face when you snapped at him, you remember pleading with him to stay or to at least let you take him out today and you remember him refusing, his voice pitched and cracking, wobbly, on the verge of collapse because-

Because of you.

Fuck.

It’s with increasingly more urgency now that you rush yourself down the stairs, a small lingering hope remaining that maybe Dazai had stayed in one of the guest rooms or on the couch, that you could do something to fix this before it escalates even more.

You don’t even know why you said that—it’s not like you mind giving Dazai what he wants, in fact, you enjoy it. You enjoy it a lot. You like seeing his face light up when you do nice things for him, you like when he tries to hide the way he gets all flustered, you like that he’s allowed himself to have hope with you—something he’s clearly denied himself for too long—and you what?

You ruined it because you got scared?

You ruined it because you didn’t want to talk about… whatever you have going on with him?

You ruined it because you were terrified he was going to force you to come to terms with the fact that you’re using his stupid flash drive as an excuse to indulge yourself in him. That it would take minimal effort to have it destroyed but you’re putting it off because you want to be able to rationalize what you’re doing.

You feel sick to your stomach when you realize that your apartment is empty, eyes darting around to try to find your phone. You need to call him—he told you that he wanted to be alone today, or maybe he didn’t say exactly that but he implied it, but you need to at least talk to him now that you’re sober and can think straight.

A distant part of you, a cold and logical part of you, tells you to just use this as the excuse to cut him off—you don’t need to get Ilya to fuck with his mind if he just hates you, you don’t want Ilya to fuck with Dazai’s mind. The thought of it makes your chest feel tight with guilt, so maybe you should take this opportunity for what it is, no matter how shitty it might make you feel, but-

But you won’t.

Finally spotting your phone on the couch, you snatch it up and unlock it, grimacing at the low battery percentage and then grimacing even more when there’s not a single message from Dazai lighting up your home screen. There’s seven from Chuuya, three from Albatross, and two from Mori, but you’re more concerned by the missed call from an unknown number and the unread voice message.

The foreboding feeling that has been looming only grows more intense when you click on the message for it to play out loud.

“This is Doctor Okamoto of Keiyu Hospital calling on behalf of a recently admitted patient… listed you as his emergency contact when he was brought in last night… unable to disclose any information regarding his injuries over the phone… suggest that you get here soon…”

At once, your vision tunnels and everything around you becomes white noise, your gaze is pinned on the ground, a smudge on the tiled floors as you try to keep yourself grounded because what? Dazai is in the-he’s in the hospital?

Because of you?

You hadn’t been subtle approaching him that day in the library, it’s been a lingering thought since then, wondering if unsavory eyes had caught sight of you talking to him. The bar and the cafe were different, he had approached you—if any of your enemies had happened to see it, they wouldn’t think twice about it. But you approaching him had been dangerous.

It had been a mistake.

Had it been a mistake to cost him his life?

And it’s not just that—you’ve taken him out to dinners. Picked him up at his apartment building. Places that you or your trusted affiliates own but there’s always the chance… and if he left the Port Mafia building last night in a rush, upset and not thinking straight…

Oh, you might throw up.

You’re not dressed properly. You’re still wearing your dress from last night and you fumble to put on the heels you must’ve kicked off in your drunken state. You don’t even care to get dressed, more intent on getting to the hospital and figuring out if—nausea builds in the back of your throat—if Dazai is alive, if he’s okay. You need to re-listen to the voicemail because your hearing had been unfocused and you’d only been able to catch bits and pieces of the doctor’s message.

And-

And you don’t even get into the elevator because your phone is ringing again as soon as you click the button. You don’t even look at the number before picking up, fearing that it’s the hospital again—it’s not, it’s Chuuya, and you immediately regret your decision because you aren’t even able to bark out a ‘what’ before he’s speaking.

“Where the hell have you been?” Chuuya snaps on the other side of the line. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours, we-”

“I’m busy,” you hiss right back, interrupting him. “I can’t talk-”

“You can talk,” Chuuya says harshly. “Get to headquarters. The Guild is in Yokohama now. We don’t have time to fuck around anymore.”

You don’t respond to Chuuya, heart sinking to your feet at his words, distress clawing at your chest so painfully that you think it might be easier if you just carve out your heart and toss it out the window. You hang up the phone without another word just as the elevator makes it to your floor, but instead of going inside, you make your way back up to your room, numbly changing into one of your suits so you could at least look somewhat presentable.

You hardly even recognize yourself in the mirror as you wipe off your smudged makeup from your night out. Your eyes are vacant and your expression so empty that you think you could almost be looking at a statue.

War with the Guild. Dazai in the hospital.

Everything is catching up to you at the same time and your mind is fraying at its seams, collapsing in on itself as the weight of everything bears down on you. You do your best to compartmentalize, focus on one thing at a time but you can’t even concentrate on one issue.

You try to figure out what to do about the upcoming conflict, try to determine what exactly Fitzgerald might be planning so you can figure out what the Port Mafia will retaliate with, and your mind drifts to Dazai, you wonder if he’s okay, if he’s in critical condition, if it was one of your enemies that got to him or if it was something else.

You think about Dazai, all of the fear and guilt and anxiety tearing you apart, and your mind shoots straight to the Guild. Because if Fitzgerald knows about Dazai—if he knows about Dazai—then it’s over. It’s all over. If the Guild gets their hands on him, they’ll kill him when you don’t give them what they want because you can’t give them what they want. They want Yokohama and you can’t give them that.

You can’t, not even for Dazai.

You don’t even register that you’re standing in front of the elevator again until it bings, startling you right out of your thoughts. You can’t leave the building while you’re spiraling like this—you need to get a grip on yourself, you don’t even know where you’re going yet. You need to figure out if you’re going to go meet with Mori and the other executives or if you’re going to go find Dazai.

As you step into the elevator, it takes all but five seconds for you to make a decision.

Dazai wakes up to the familiar scent of antiseptic and a citrus-scented floor cleaning solution, the air is too stale and the air-conditioning is cranked up too high. He forces his eyes open, lids heavy and uncooperative, but he immediately lets them fall shut again briefly when he’s met with too white walls and the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him.

His throat feels swollen as he stares up at the ceiling—the last time he was here in the hospital he was seventeen and had nearly bled out in the bathtub in Odasaku’s house. The only reason he hadn’t was because Ango happened to stop by the house to pick up papers that Odasaku had left for him, finding Dazai unconscious and face half-submerged in the water. He woke up here to find both of them hovering over him, Ango concerned and Odasaku visibly upset for the first time since Dazai met him.

He wakes up alone now because Odasaku is dead and he hasn’t spoken to Ango in four years—doesn’t even know where the man is anymore, doesn’t even know if he’s alive, doesn’t want to know either.

“Dazai-sama.” He hears a nurse say from the door to his room. “You’re awake, how are you…”

The nurse’s voice becomes white noise with the beeping of the heart monitor and the vents blowing above. Dazai retreats back into his own mind—a dangerous place, but right now it’s safer than the white walls that surround him, knowing he’s going to be badgered with questions that he doesn’t want to have to answer.

How are you feeling, Dazai-sama?

What happened, Dazai-sama?

We need to ask you a few questions, Dazai-sama.

Dazai feels defeated.

His head falls to the side as he stares out the nearby window, watching as a bird swoops down in view before taking off into the sky.

He doesn’t even remember what happened. He remembers leaving your apartment, he remembers… he remembers seeing your texts, your plans to wipe his memory. And… that’s about it? He vaguely remembers the familiar feeling of his lungs burning, remembers being tossed around by the rough currents of Tsurumi River. He doesn’t remember how he got there but it’s not exactly hard for him to piece together—even now, Dazai thinks he would rather be dead than have his memories forcibly erased.

“… to know what exactly hap…”

A dark and familiar cloud settles over him. His eyes feel heavy and his chest hurts. Dazai—he doesn’t even know what to think anymore. He’s so tired that his bones ache and his muscles feel so weak that he just sinks into the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.

He doesn’t know what he expected—he thinks that to some extent he expected you to leave him. Everyone has left him. His mother, his aunt, all of the brief friends he’d made over the years before they see him for what he is, Odasaku and Ango—everyone has left him, so he knew that you would too but… in this manner? Using an ability to wipe his memory of you?

Dazai has considered it before. He’s wondered if maybe his life would be easier if he could just… forget. If he could live without the memory of everyone who has left him hanging over him. Some days, on really bad days, he thinks it might be easier. To try to make himself feel better, he thinks that maybe he isn’t the issue, maybe it’s all just a self-fulfilling prophecy, that it’s his past experiences cursing him to make the same mistakes over and over again; that without them, he might stand a chance.

But then when he thinks about it—when he really thinks about it—he knows in his heart that it’s not true, and he knows that without the memory of them all, Dazai will only feel more empty. And to think that you were trying to take his memories of you from him… without even asking, without giving him a choice in the matter… it almost makes Dazai-

“Dazai.”

His gaze snaps to the side when he hears your familiar voice come from the door leading into his room. Instantly, he’s shaking his head and looking away again, he can’t even bear to look at you but you’re walking over to him, you’re coming to his bedside, you’re sitting next to him on the hospital bed and you’re reaching out to cup his cheek, forcibly turning his face to make him look at you. You look worried, something sharp and concerned in your eyes that makes his throat swell and he wants to spit at you and call you a liar but he can only sink into your touch.

“Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is hoarse, almost painful for him to use.

“What happened?” you ask him quietly instead of answering his question—you never answer his questions, you always deflect, always maneuver around them. The ones you do answer, it’s only because you plan to- “Dazai, what happened? Are you okay?”

Dazai doesn’t know how you can look at him like this all the while planning the most diabolical betrayal that he could ever imagine. You’re either an actress deserving of international recognition or… or Dazai doesn’t even know.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Why are you here?”

“The hospital called me-”

“But why are you here?” Dazai cuts you off, grateful that his voice is firmer than the turmoil wreaking havoc through him. He must’ve given them your number while he was half-delirious when he was brought in—he figured that out already—but that doesn’t explain why you actually came. “Why did you come?”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say as if Dazai should believe you.

And he wants to believe you. Wants to believe that you’d come running just at the mere idea of him being hurt, wants to believe that you would care enough to come for him. He wants to believe you so bad, but he knows what he saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dazai tells you, finally gathering the willpower to pull his face away from where it’s resting in the palm of your hand. You don’t even let him shift away, hand slipping behind him to cradle the back of his head, fingers entwined with his hair. “Stop.”

“I’m not lying to you,” you say like a liar. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

You sigh heavily and Dazai hates the way you’re absently drawing circles against the nape of his neck with your thumb, hates how it makes him feel at ease and especially hates the way his lashes instinctually flutter shut.

“I didn’t mean what I said last night, Dazai,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost believes you. Almost. “I was drunk, I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care about that,” Dazai says, proud of the way his voice stays sharp and cold. “I saw the messages between you and Tolstoy. I know what you’re planning. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t even want to look at you, just leave me alone.”

You draw back at his words, concerned expression melting into a blank slate as you pull your hand away to sit back straight. Dazai misses your touch instantly, longs for the warmth to return but he forces himself to ignore it all, keeping his gaze pinned on you, watching the way your mind races behind your eyes. He wonders if you’re trying to figure out if you can salvage this, wonders if you’re going to lie.

Instead, a heavy look settles over your face as you frown, glancing back at the way you came and for a moment, Dazai thinks you’re just going to leave. You rise to your feet and words lodge in the back of his throat, preparing to spit insults at you: he wants to call you a coward, a liar, wants to tell you that you’re cruel and vile and he can hardly even stand to look at you.

But then you look back at him and hold out your hand to him. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s sneak you out of here… I’ll explain everything when we get out of the hospital.”

Dazai wants to be spiteful, wants to turn his head away and ignore you, wants to slap your hand and tell you that there’s no explaining what he saw.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he places his hand in yours and lets that treacherous, treacherous spec of hope bloom in his chest again.

Dazai hasn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. You’ve tried to make small talk with him, but every time, he just turns his head away to look out the window. You gave up twenty minutes ago and Dazai is already regretting not indulging conversation with you because the silence is agonizing. He knows he should break it, but he doesn't know how to now.

He glances at you from the corner of your eye. You’re leaning back against your seat, one hand on the steering wheel—he can’t see your eyes because they’re masked by sunglasses, but he can see the way your free hand rests on the gear stick, knuckles tense.

“What is this place?” Dazai clears his throat as he leans forward in his seat, peering out the windshield of your car to try to figure out where you’re taking him. He forces his tone to lighten, the smile on his lips strained. “Are you kidnapping me? Oh! Or are you taking me to some remote cabin to kill me? Bella, you truly know the way to a man’s heart.”

You let out a heavy sigh, one that makes Dazai toss a sweet smile in your direction.

Some type of beach house, he recognizes as you pull up a windy road to the top of a cliff looking over the water. He can see to his left a path leading down to the water and to his right a nice view of a distant pier. It’s not a large house, but it’s nice—well-kept and refurbished with a view over Sagami Bay. It’s not too far out from Yokohama, probably only a little over an hour, but considering Dazai’s never left the city in his entire life, this might be the furthest he’s ever been. He can almost feel a bit of excitement bubbling in his chest.

“I wanted to take you here, away from the city for a bit,” you finally say, fingers thrumming against the wheel of the car as you slowly guide the car up the gravel path. “So we can talk in peace.”

Your bland words whittle away his excitement and Dazai’s smile falters. He tries to distract himself with counting the strands hanging off the sleeve of his sweater but keeps losing count.

“Something you couldn’t have talked to me about in Yokohama?” Dazai asks airly as you pull to a stop in front of the beach house.

He doesn’t turn to look at you, doesn’t move until you finally get out of the car, reaching into the back seat to grab two duffle bags, nodding for him to follow you.

Wow, he thinks dryly, you came prepared.

Dazai feels distinctly like he’s walking to his execution as he follows you to the steps leading up to the house, but instead of walking up them, you toss the bags on the porch and then continue up the path.

You’re going to push him off a cliff, Dazai thinks, feet dragging against the gravel as he follows you. This is it, all of the years that he’s longed for death and it’s finally about to find him at your hands.

“I might not die from the fall,” Dazai says, words drawn long as he pouts. “You wouldn’t really leave me to suffer in freezing water, would you?”

“No,” you say, glancing back at him. He lets out a quiet breath of relief that’s quickly snuffed out when you add, “I’m not that sloppy with my kills. I’d kill you before dumping your body over the side of the cliff.”

Dazai blanches, but your lips curl up into an amused smile so he settles down, sighing as he purposely knocks his shoulder with yours.

“My bella is so cruel,” he sighs dramatically. “She hates me.”

You sigh as you reach the edge of the cliff, not turning to look at him. The wind whips around the two of you—it’s a cool, early spring night, the temperature just enough to be uncomfortable but you don’t seem bothered by it as you stare out across the water as the sun starts to set.

You’re beautiful, Dazai thinks, breath catching at the sight of you beneath the setting sun. The golden rays cast an ethereal glow over you, the wind ruffles your clothes and hair, and your expression is solemn in a way that’s become terribly familiar the past few weeks.

“I’m not going to do anything with the video,” Dazai finally says, voice quiet—finally taking the chance to say what he wanted to say last night. “You don’t have to keep… pandering to me because you’re trying to protect yourself. I was never going to do anything with it, I just… wanted you to give me a chance.”

When you look over your shoulder, you give Dazai a small, genuine smile that makes all of the air whoosh from his lungs.

“Dazai, I’ve known you weren’t going to do anything with that video since day one,” you say, amused. “If I thought you were, I would’ve had someone confiscate it from your apartment.”

Dazai’s lips part, mind racing. “But then why-”

Your smile softens at the edges and you sigh as you lower yourself down to the ground, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. Dazai joins you, thigh brushing yours and shoulders absently knocking together. Your hands rest in your lap and Dazai’s fingers twitch to reach for yours. He only hardly refrains himself.

“I don’t remember a life before this,” you say after a few moments, a distant look in your eyes as you stare ahead. “When I was seven… eight, maybe, I was pulled out of a warzone by the current leader of the Mafia. I don’t even remember my parents—anything about them. Their names. Faces. What they sounded like, what their job was. Mori… he found me in my town sitting in the middle of a whole pile of bodies and I couldn’t even point out which pair of corpses were my parents. I don’t remember anything before him… It’s all just black. Blurred.”

Dazai stares at you, eyes a bit wide as he listens to you speak. His lips part to say something but he decides against it, instead he seals his lips back shut and presses his shoulder against yours. Mori—that was the other name pinned up with Dazai’s message thread and Nakahara Chuuya’s—he must be the Port Mafia boss. His gaze traces your face as you stare ahead, catching the melancholic expression on your face. He itches to reach for your hand.

“I could hardly remember anything about myself. My first name… that’s just about it. My new birthday became the day Mori found me, my new surname—when needed—was his, he… he became my reason to live when I had none. Gave me a purpose,” you tell him faintly. “I spent two years on a warfront trying to figure out what my ability was so I could be the finishing touches of the immortal regiment that he was trying to create. As far as I remember, all I’ve known is… this. Him.”

Dazai wants to say something but every word he tries to push out dies on his tongue. Instead, he finally does reach out to grab your hand, fingers curling around yours tightly. You look down briefly, an unreadable expression on your face before it softens and… and for a split second, Dazai can see you, he can see you: not a hardened executive of a mafia, but an eight-year-old girl, lost and confused and landing in the arms of the wrong man, and it makes him sick.

The traitorous part of him wonders if you’re only telling him this because you still plan on following through with the memory wipe, so Dazai does what he always does when someone threatens to take one of the few things he wants—he digs his claws in and doesn’t let go.

“The war ended before I could figure out how to use my ability and I followed… him to the underground. We ended up with the Port Mafia while the previous boss and his family were still leading. He was…” You trail off, frowning. “Dangerous. Yokohama was a terrible place under his leadership. He slaughtered civilians who spoke poorly about him and the Mafia, killed his own men for looking at him wrong… Mori became his doctor and for the good of the city, he decided to kill him.”

“I remember the old boss—what he did to the city,” Dazai says quietly—how could he not? His aunt was terrified of being in Yokohama because of him, was constantly talking about leaving the city… she finally did after dumping Dazai off in Suribachi and leaving him to fend for himself against the wolves. “It was bad.”

“It was,” you agree absently. “Mori—he wanted it to be as bloodless as possible. He tried every route, but the only way for it to be bloodless was if he had someone to corroborate that the previous boss died in his sleep and left the Port Mafia to him.”

Dazai almost scoffs.

“No one would believe that.”

“We’d hoped maybe one of his grandchildren would step up. Even if it was clearly a lie, people would have to listen because they were his blood,” you say with a wry smile. “They didn’t.”

“So, what happened then?” he presses when you don’t immediately continue. He frowns when he catches the sudden change in your demeanor, like you’re sick to your stomach, unable to push out the next words. He feels a bit dreadful, squeezing your hand gently.

“We had to wipe out the whole family,” you whisper, looking down at your lap, “and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s granddaughter—she was asleep, had a bear tucked in her arm and a nightlight on the right side of her bed. I slit her throat, then both of her older brothers. They were kids.”

Oh.

Dazai’s throat spasm as he swallows, the picture forming in his head cold and chilling, but instead he forces out:

“You were a kid too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time,” you say, voice flat, leaving no room for argument. “We hunted down the whole bloodline, immediate to extended family. Mori was insistent on it, said we couldn’t risk one of them ever returning and upending everything we’ve built. He’s still searching for some to this day just to make sure.”

That’s… foreboding to say the least. Dazai watches you carefully, the grim expression on your face and the frown on your lips. He pulls your hand into his lap, tracing your fingers gently to try to ease you and he watches from the corner of his eye as your expression softens again when you look at him. It makes his chest feel tight and fluttery.

“I was sixteen when I met Itou.” The cold expression on your face warms at the unfamiliar name. Dazai watches as the corner of your lips curve up into a fond smile, as if you’re reminiscing. “He was seventeen. We were partnered up for years. This was his beach house—or, well, I don’t know whose it was but Itou took it. He was awful, honestly. A terrible fucking person, had more blood on his hands than any other member of the Mafia, found way too much joy in tormenting people. He was awful, but he was the closest thing I had to family. He tried to show me a world beyond just… bloodshed and violence. Took me to amusement parks on days off, snuck me onto school trips with random groups of kids and told me to ‘blend in’ as training for infiltration missions, showed me how to live, not just… survive. He died on a mission a few weeks after I turned eighteen, made me promise him that I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be without him, that I’d at least try to be happy.”

Double oh.

Dazai almost does throw up now, mind drawing back to a face that has been haunting Dazai for four years now, Odasaku’s last words ring through his head painfully—a reminder of his own inadequacy, of his failure to fulfill his friend’s dying wish.

He remembers the way your face shifted when he told you about Odasaku at Kido’s Boutique and he wonders if he’d reminded you of Itou back then when he spoke of the man and his promise, just like how he was reminded now. His grip on your hand tightens unintentionally—as if you can sense his thoughts, you squeeze his fingers gently.

“I didn’t,” you say with a tight smile. “Threw myself into work, accepted that my fate was to live, breathe and die for the Port Mafia. I didn’t see the point of anything—well, not until I met you, at least.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker up to you, breath catching when you meet his gaze this time. And god, you look beautiful—so beautiful that Dazai thinks that if he dies now, he could die happy. He almost wishes that he could die now, fall off the side of the cliff with the image of you burned behind his eyelids. It would be a better death than he deserved.

“You made me happy. Make me happy,,” you tell him quietly and Dazai’s heart leaps into his throat. “So effortlessly that I can’t even understand how you do it, but it’s impossible for me to justify dragging you into this world just because I’m selfish.” Dazai parts his lips to disagree but you don’t even give him a chance to speak. “So when you came to me with your stupid blackmail, it was so… easy to just use it as an excuse for me to indulge in you.”

Dazai doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t get it. You’re sitting here talking to him, explaining everything, and Dazai still doesn’t understand. He makes you happy—he makes you happy and you make him happy, there doesn’t need to be any more complications than that. You don’t have to push him away, you don’t have to cut him off, you don’t have to use that memory wiping ability on him.

“I don’t understand,” Dazai says, voice hoarse. “You make me happy too, so why is…”

“Because Chuuya is right,” you say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “The risks… Dazai, you can’t ask me to put you in danger like this. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair to cut me off because you’re scared,” Dazai counters, voice a bit pitched. “It’s not fair that you want to wipe my memory without my consent. I don’t care about danger, I don’t-”

You look at him sharply, an intense expression on your face that makes Dazai hesitate.

“I never would have done it without talking to you first,” you say tightly. “Do you really think that little of me?”

Dazai looks away, not answering the question. “I never would have agreed to it,” he replies, voice equally tight as yours. “Never. It’d be a waste of your time.”

You sigh and Dazai feels you shift next to him but he pointedly keeps his gaze trained ahead, refusing to look at you. He feels your fingers brush his cheek before the pressure becomes a bit firmer as you turn his face so that he’s looking at you. You’re so close that his nose brushes yours, the pads of your fingers are warm against his skin; if he leans in just a bit, he’d be able to kiss you.

He wants to kiss you.

“You don’t know what’s at stake,” you say softly, breath fanning across his lips as you speak. He can almost taste the mixture of mint and nicotine on your lips—you smoke when you’re nervous, he’s noticed it over the past few weeks with you. The more nervous you are, the more cigarettes you run through; he wonders how many cigarettes you’ve gone through since you’ve gotten the call from the hospital. “The danger-”

“You want me,” Dazai whispers, squeezing your hand, leaning in a bit more. “No one has ever wanted me before. Not like this. Not for me. You want me.”

The last sentence—it doesn’t come out as a statement, it comes out as a plea. He wants you to say it. You didn’t the last time, but he needs to hear it now. Desperately. His nails dig into your hands, he doesn’t even dare to breathe as he waits for you to speak.

“I want you,” you agree, voice so quiet like you don’t even dare to speak the words out loud in fear of the consequences of them. “I want you. I want you so bad that it scares me, Dazai Osamu.”

And Dazai breathes. The breath he lets out is long and shaky, the relief that sweeps over him is almost debilitating. He searches your eyes to make sure you mean it and when he only finds honesty and a type of fear that he’s never seen in you before, Dazai knows.

“You think it doesn’t scare me?” Dazai asks you, voice cracking. “Everything I ever come to want is always lost. Ever since that first day we met, I-I knew that I wanted you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before and I’ve been terrified that one day you’ll leave me. Promise me that you won’t. Promise me.”

You stare at him and for a terrible moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to shake your head and say you can’t, but then you swallow, nod and say, “I promise.”

Dazai kisses you. And then he kisses you again. And again. And again. Until his lungs burn and he can feel your lips curve up against his and even then, he kisses you still. Kisses you as the sun sets over the bay and the moon rises above the mountains. Kisses you until the wind becomes too bitter for the two of you to stay outside and still, he smiles as he peppers kisses across your face, walking back down the path to the beach house.

He ignores how your phone has been buzzing incessantly all night, praying for at least one day of peace before reality slaps the two of you in the face again.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai osamu x you

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jnnul · 1 year ago

Text

ready for love

PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader (ft. tbz's juyeon)

GENRES ▸ fluff, non!idol au, college au, slice of life, friends to lovers but also...it’s complicated?

WARNINGS ▸ uhh swearing, drinking (but legally), mentions of infidelity, there was supposed to be so much more but it just turned into a fluff piece sooo..., y/n is indecisive and jeno is stupid, they're a match made in heaven 🫶🏽, jeno is the loverboy of the century towards the end, they make out and a few allusions to sex but no graphics, is it just me or is that header really blurry

SUMMARY ▸ a boy who has never taken a relationship seriously. a girl who is seriously over relationships. when they end up finding each other, will they let their ideas of what a relationship should be like ruin their relationship before it even starts?

PLAYLIST ▸ ready for love - blackpink, lovin’ me - fifty fifty, siren - taeyeon, island - youha, hate that - key & taeyeon

WORD COUNT ▸ 19.5k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ oh hey it's that one fic i've been writing since july! which reminds me - if that ending looks familiar, it's because technically, this was supposed to come out right after that timestamp did oops.

as always, feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

far too easy. a couple of lingering stares. a coincidental request on social media. a few well-placed messages. one date later and...done. he was in. hook, line, and sinker.

it was almost getting predictable. at first, lee jeno just wanted to have a little fun. it was never anything serious - and it definitely wasn't always about sex. truly. as distrustful as men had made themselves out to be within the past few thousands of years, jeno truly wasn't thinking with his dick when he got into relationships.

it was just about having fun. he just wanted to get to know people, do sohing romantic just for the experience, and maybe, get to know their body if the relationship felt so inclined.

there was never any delusion about what a relationship with jeno was like. it was two months, if you lasted that long, and every second of it made you feel alive like you never had before. but the honeymoon stage would pass and jeno would lose interest and soon, there would be a heartbroken girl left behind, even though she knew exactly what she was getting herself into.

and it wasn't as though they could really get mad at him. he was a sweetheart through and through and he would continue to say hi if they ever saw each other around and he had definitely saved a couple exes from some ugly encounters. jeno never meant to hurt anyone; it just happened soimes because he was such a good guy.

at least, that’s what you understood of your best friend. from his nights of drunken confessions and the few encounters you’d had with his ‘girlfriends’, you had surmised that jeno lee was just meant to be a serial casual dater.

you, quite frankly, were on the opposite end of the spectrum. after a few too many boyfriends who had turned out to be grade a douchebags, you had effectively sworn off men.

dating was just far too hard. the 'did he notice me?' stage where you dress up a little prettier than normal. and then the internal panic when they request you on instagram. the casual talking stage where you've already accidentally planned out the wedding. the date where you choose to move past all of the blatant red flags you see. and then the relationship, when the red flags become red banners the size of antarctica because goddamnit, how did you miss the fact that this man was a literal freudian case study.

so whenever jeno would introduce his newest girlfriend or go on about his many adventures (including the details about the not-so-family-friendly aspects), you couldn't help but feel a little pang of jealousy because where the hell was jeno finding such amazing relationships? and why the hell isn't he taking them seriously?

you're sure you couldn't even count the number of sweet girls you knew would've been perfect to take home to his mother you had been introduced to before they were gone the next week.

"and that's why i think you're an insufferable brat," you grumble, pointing a stick of celery at him threateningly. jeno snorts slightly, redirecting your celery to the hummus sitting next to where you were perched on his kitchen counter.

"you've been saying that for as long as we've been friends," he says, pouring a spoonful of soy sauce into the rice for the fried rice he was preparing for dinner.

"three years too many," you say, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. "how have we actually stayed friends for three years when you're so...wishy-washy?"

jeno's roommate, na jaemin, rubs his eyes as he stumbles into the kitchen, saluting you sarcastically as he reaches into the fridge to grab an entire bowl of strawberries.

"what a burn, y/n. wishy-washy. yeah, i'll bet that really did a number on him, didn't it, jeno my boy?" jaemin snorts, pouting when he quite nearly drops the bowl of strawberries on his foot.

he also very nearly escapes decapitation by celery stick, ducking from your brutal aim.

"at least i don't have a mommy kink," you snide, salvaging what was left of your celery snack.

jaemin jabs a strawberry in your general direction with a look of indignant betrayal on his face.

"i thought we agreed to never speak of what was revealed during balkan night," jaemin hissed. "you promised, y/n!"

"i was crossing my fingers," you shrug, placating your best friend with an olive branch of a silly smile when he swears vengence by strawberry assault a second time.

"whatever," jaemin grumbles as he slinks back to the darkness of his room. jeno just shakes his head fondly, tossing in the vegetables the two of you had just chopped up into the fried rice.

"why do you always feel the need to rag on him like that?" jeno says, mixing the vegetables into the rice.

"why do you always feel the need to avoid taking a relationship seriously?" you counter, hopping down from your perch to throw out the now empty hummus container.

"you know, anyone hearing this conversation right now would think that you were the one not taking relationships not seriously instead of me," he says calmly, taking a spoonful of rice. he blows on it before reaching out to you, letting you taste-test the fried rice. you hum, sifting through the ingredients in the fridge as you analyze what the missing ingredient was. your eyes land on a small plastic container with finely chopped garlic inside, the realization clicking in your head.

"just because i'm a little youthful and you have the personality of a grandpa doesn't mean that you have to be the one who takes relationships too seriously," you say, sprinkling the garlic into the fried rice. jeno hands you the wooden spatula and lets you take over the cooking process as he finds three bowls for the three of you.

"whatever helps you sleep at night," jeno says with a soft chuckle.

"speaking of relationships though, i'm not going to be leeching off of you for dinner tonight," you say casually, offering a spoonful to jeno this time to let him taste your shared creation.

he flashes you a happy eye smile, retreating into the hallway to call jaemin out of his room for lunch.

"date?" jeno says, a strange look in his eye as he hands you your spoon (you had a preference for only eating with the singular small spoon in the entire apartment for some reason) with a knowing smile.

"somewhat? it's a double date but i'm only going for jimin because she really really likes the guy and she's afraid she's going to fuck it up if it's just the two of them," you explain, giving him a thumbs up for the successful food collaboration.

"do you know who it's with?" jaemin pipes up, seemingly refreshed after consuming an inhumane amount of strawberries.

you furrow your eyebrows, trying to recollect the name of the guy jimin mentioned that jaehyun was bringing before shaking your head.

"i think his name was jayeon? yeonju? juyeon? i don't know, i don't really remember. all i know is that jaehyun better be head over fucking heels for jimin by the end of the night," you say in between bites.

"juyeon? lee juyeon?" jaemin says suddenly, his spoon clattering as he drops it in his bowl. jeno and jaemin exchange a look that you don't miss and you definitely don't like.

"am i missing sohing here? do you guys know him?" you ask, the worry lines on your forehead having become near permanent. jeno shrugs, pushing his food around in an uncharacteristically hesitant manner.

"i mean i just heard that he was a bit of a heartbreaker when he was in college but i don't really think that it was that big of a deal," jaemin says finally. you roll your eyes, puffing out your chest sarcastically.

"i'm a big girl guys, don't worry. i can handle myself," you say, patting jeno's shoulder comfortingly as you move to wash your bowl. "and besides, i'm not actually going there to find the love of my life; i'm just going there to support jimin."

"just be careful, y/n." jeno gives you a quick little side-hug before disappearing into the living room to turn on some tv. you turn to jaemin but your question dies on your tongue when you see that jaemin is already staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"what's up with him?" you ask, when jaemin sighs, getting up to wash his dishes.

"jeno's worried for you," he says. you huff, watching jaemin put his washed bowl into the dishwasher.

"i get that, dipshit. what i don't get is why!" you exclaim, wincing when you realize that you're much louder than you had intended.

"because juyeon's just like jeno."

it's all jaemin says but it's all he needs to say because now, you finally understand.

+++

"now remember, i'm only coming with you for you, okay? if you ever want to just be with jaehyun by yourself, let me know and i'll be more than happy to head on my way out," you whisper to jimin as you flash a bright smile at jaehyun, who approaches the both of you with a dimpled smile as he tucks his car keys into his pocket.

"y/n! it's so good to see you after so long," jaehyun says, pulling you in for a friendly side hug.

"i know," you say, squeezing quickly before letting go. "can you believe it's already been a month since renjun's party?"

jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, shuffling so that he was standing next to jimin. "no, really? has it already been a month?"

he doesn't wait for you to answer, turning to jimin almost immediately. "it's been a month since i met you? why does it feel like i've known you my entire life?"

it takes all you have to turn to the side before fake gagging, unable to help the cringe that runs through your body from the cheesiness, jimin fighting back a giggle, but you can see that her cheeks are bright red.

"jae, for your sake and the beautiful ladies', i'm gonna have to pretend like you never said that," a deep voice says from behind you. the man steps into the light and you're sure that your eyes are about to fall out of their socket.

juyeon is one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. long, long legs that lead up to broad shoulders, beautiful eyes and lips that would make kylie jenner jealous. his dark hair is slicked back and he holds himself with a humble, quiet confidence that makes you ready to fall to your knees instantly. he turns to you and his cool demeanor is instantly broken when he smiles, his face glowing in the faint lights of the restaurant.

"hi, i'm juyeon," he says, sticking his hand out for you to shake. you stare at it for a moment before taking it.

"y/n. it's nice to meet you," you say dreamily, before coming to your senses and retracting your hand. you were here for jimin and jimin only. juyeon and his beautiful face would have to stay in the friend zone - especially if what jaemin had warned you about was true.

but just because you couldn't purchase doesn't mean you couldn't window shop.

"y/n," juyeon drawls, letting your name roll off of his tongue. "a pretty name for a pretty girl."

jimin can barely stifle a giggle at your dazed expression, elbowing you in the rib cage. you shake your head slightly, composing yourself once more. how in hell were you supposed to confine this man to the friend zone if everything he said threatened your very sanity?

"well, they say that you should never keep a pretty woman waiting," you say with coy smile, gesturing towards the restaurant. "shall we head inside?"

juyeon mock-bows while jaehyun opens the door and says, "ladies first."

you blow juyeon a kiss with a teasing smile, linking arms with jimin and sauntering into the restaurant. juvenile? perhaps. but where was the fun in being adult all the time?

the four of you make your way to where there's a receptionist standing behind a booth, jaehyun stating his name for the reservation.

"right this way, ladies and gentlemen," the receptionist says, gathering a handful of menus and leading you to your table.

"so jaehyun tells me you are a business major," juyeon says, falling in step beside you. you hum, shaking your head slightly.

"i was a business major; i double majored in finance and economics, but i graduated two months ago," you explain, thanking the waiter as you take your seat at the table. juyeon takes the seat next to you and jimin takes the seat on the other side so that you were sat directly across from jaehyun.

you're about to turn to jimin and say something only to find her enraptured by some fascinating conversation that her and jaehyun seemed to be having, turning back with a knowing smile.

"i'm sorry, i was under the impression that you were still in school since it's only march," juyeon says, handing you one of the menus the waiter had left on the table.

"i graduated early because of the overlap between my majors. i was required to keep up my grades for my scholarship anyway so i was able to build up credits fairly quickly," you explain, trying to ignore the spark of electricity that you feel when juyeon's fingers linger on yours.

"oh, so you were quite the academic," he says, running a hand through his hair. you determinedly stare at the menu, forcing down the hot flash that runs through your body when juyeon catches you watching.

"you could say so," you nod, scanning the menu. "how about you? what did you major in when you were in school?"

"i was your direct senior," juyeon begins, smiling when he sees the confusion on your face. "i was a finance major in college."

"no way! that's so interesting. where do you work now?" you ask once you put down the menu to meet his eyes. maybe jaemin and jeno were just being overprotective? it wouldn't be the first time they steered you away from heartbreak but juyeon seemed like such a sweet and genuine guy.

because juyeon's just like jeno.

that statement is enough to bring you back to your senses as you focus on what juyeon is saying, jimin and jaehyun still debating the difference between computer engineering and computer science (their respective majors) and which one was better.

nerds.

"i was at amazon up until last summer but i recently switched to a new company. it's a pretty small company but they specialize in cleaning the ocean of plastic and recycling the plastic for 3D printing. it's very niche but i didn't want to just be another finance bro that just worked for the sake of money, you know? i wanted to work with a good consciousness."

maybe curving juyeon from claiming a place in your already fragile heart would be a little more difficult than you expected. kind, environmentally aware and a chose ethical work? juyeon was already better than approximately 90% of your exes.

"how about you? have you started working yet? the market is pretty brutal for freshly graduated f&e people, from what my friends tell me." you nod, internally composing yourself and steeling yourself a little bit more to keep from falling into juyeon's charms.

just like jeno. the reminder is harsh, but it works like magic as you feel the butterflies in your stomach beginning to dissapate.

"it certainly is a lot more competitive than i think a lot of people anticipated. thankfully, i was able to connect to a sponsor during one of the scholarship banquets and was offered a position for right after school," you explained and juyeon's eyes turn from mild and observing to full of respect as he nods, almost approvingly.

"which company?" he asks, taking a sip of his water.

"i actually am working in the finance department at patagonia..."

+++

the night progresses almost too smoothly. once the food had come out, jaehyun and jimin finally seemed to come out of the bubble they were in and the conversation flowed so well, it was almost as though the four of you had known each other for years.

it was clear that jaehyun and juyeon were close, having met each other at work and instantly clicking. the easy back and forth between them allowed you and jimin relax a little more, allowing the conversation to turn to less formal subjects.

you find out that juyeon has a dog, much to your dismay.

"y/n loves dogs!" jimin exclaims, and you can feel your heart's walls crack a little further. there were many things you could handle - a cute boy with a dog? that was a little out of the realm of control.

"really? oh you'd love ray then - he's a big dog but he's got a lot of love. sort of a gentle giant," juyeon says, his eyes twinkling as he pulls out his phone to show you his wallpaper. it's a picture of him and ray curled up next to each other, sleeping in bed, both of them in the same exact position as they snored away.

"i swear, him and ray are the same soul in two different bodies. i've seen this guy have full on conversations with his dog. which would be weird but it kinda just works for them somehow. i kinda think that ray genuinely does understand juyeon," jaehyun snorts, nodding at juyeon's wallpaper. "that was when ray was still a puppy and he would copy every single thing that juyeon did."

juyeon shrugs, smiling as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. "not much has changed there, if i'm being honest."

you're about to say something about meeting ray when your phone rings abruptly, rudely interrupting the conversation. you frown as you flip your phone open, looking at the contact profile on the screen. jeno?

"hello?" you say as you answer the phone, pointing to the restroom as you excuse yourself from the table. from the corner of your eye, you can see the waiter coming with the bill for your table and you vaguely register the fact that only two cards are being put on the table (jaehyun's and juyeon's) as you make your way somewhere a little more private.

"hellooo? y/nnnn-ie? you stilllll at your, huh, date?" jeno slurs into your phone and you hear someone in the background, presumably jaemin, trying to convince jeno to stop himself from saying or doing something stupid.

"yes, jeno, i'm still at my date. that you interrupted, by the way," you say with a frustrated sigh. you check your watch and realize that it's only 9:30 PM and jeno does not sound like he's been taking it easy on the alcohol. "why are you drinking jen?"

"whattttt, so now i'm a shitty lover and i can't, heh, drink?" jeno grumbles into the phone and it's clear from the sudden silence in the background that jaemin has completely giving up on wrestling jeno's phone out of his hand. you had firsthand experience with drunk jeno - he turned into the hulk.

"jen, if you called me in the middle of my date to go off the rails about how you're a lonely fucker, i'm going to kill you," you hiss, smiling at the lady who comes into the restroom as you weren't threatening your best friend with murder.

"I'M NOT A LONELY FUCKER!"

oh, so this part jeno could say without hiccuping or slurring his words. fantastic. you sigh, switching your phone to the other ear as you wash your hands, getting ready to leave the restroom. there's a pregnant pause where no one says anything but you can hear the top gun theme song in the background so you know jeno's on the line.

"if - if i change, will you not go out with juyeon?" jeno mutters finally, just as you're leaving the restroom. "if i finally start getting serious about relationships, will you not go out with him? will you come home?"

you pause at that. jeno's always been the protective type. for all of his own playboy (even if technically he wasn't trying to be a playboy) charm, jeno genuinely wasn't very happy when you dated people. he wouldn't be rude to them and he certainly would never force you to break up with them but every time he would run into them, regardless of how long you had dated them, he always had something to say.

he looks like he jerks off to weird porn. definitely something about shampoo, a hot girl, and way too much viagra.

he has a small dick.

he makes his girlfriends lose weight even though he has a beer belly.

i'm not even gonna lie to you - i just hate the fact that he's balding.

most of the reasons that jeno gave you were kinda stupid. but ultimately, he was usually right about which people to avoid and even if he said it was because they were ugly and balding, it was usually because he knew that they weren't kind people on the inside.

it was because you just didn't have a great self-image, jeno used to say. if you saw yourself the way the rest of us - the way i see you, you'd never even give some of these assholes a chance, y/n. think of it as playboy experience about how to find the people actually worth your time.

but he had never said anything like this before. for all of the hazy comments and strange strength jeno developed when he was drunk, he had never said anything like this to you before. mostly because jaemin was really good at protecting his roommate from making stupid decisions but it was clear that even jaemin couldn't stop this.

"jen, you sound crazy right now," you say, rubbing your forehead. you step out of the restroom to see juyeon waiting at the table alone, as jimin and jaehyun seemingly already left together. "i don't really know what you're trying to say and quite frankly, i have no clue why you're acting like this. ask jaemin to make sure you're drinking a lot more water and we'll talk about this in the morning, alright?"

jeno doesn't say anything but from the shuffling in the background, you realize that jaemin has finally rose from his slump and was signaling something to jeno. good. maybe jaemin would be able to understand why the fuck jeno was acting like this.

there's an exchange of words, mostly jaemin berating jeno to hand over the phone as you hear a loud thump in the background before jaemin is speaking.

"hey, y/n it's me," jaemin says. it's clear that he's been drinking too but jaemin isn't too much of a drinker so he still sounds pretty levelheaded as he speaks.

"what's up with jeno, jaemin? why is he acting like that?" you ask, making your way over to the table slowly. you realize that juyeon is holding onto your coat and suddenly, you're not really sure about what to do. you don't know what it is about the simple fact that juyeon is holding your coat but the entire thing seems a little domestic. like the two of you actually were on a date.

"y/n, i'm gonna be so honest with you, i think it's best if you have some distance from jeno for a while. i think he's just getting in his head about stuff he shouldn't be and really, i think the only way he's gonna get over it or figure out how to talk to you about it if he has some distance."

how perfect. you sigh, running your hand through your hair as you smile at juyeon, who helps you put your coat over your shoulders, the scent of his cologne filling up your lungs. you decide that if it was distance that jeno wanted, it was distance jeno was going to get. quite frankly, this wasn't the first time jeno had randomly pulled away from you, even if it was the first time he had finally come close to clueing you into why.

it was clear that jeno didn't like you dating people - especially not juyeon. maybe even to the extent of jeno changing his own playboy ways to convince you otherwise of interacting with juyeon.

you had considered the fact that jeno might be interested in you romantically or that maybe he was jealous for your affections. but every time you thought that, jeno would come back from his faraway space with a new girl and a genuine twinkle in his eye and suddenly, everything was back to normal.

jeno simply was an overprotective person, you decided. and he would do whatever he thought was right to make sure that the people around him didn't get hurt.

it really did check out, honestly.

jeno was equally overprotective of everyone in his life because getting that close to him in the first place was a feat within itself. once you made it past that original barrier, however, he would be willing to give his life if he thought it would help even the slightest.

but...even so. this was weird.

either way, juyeon was opening the passenger door to his car and you were aimlessly climbing into it so any and all thoughts about jeno would have to wait until you made it down this slippery slope first. the last thing you needed in the morning was the honest to god gripping panic of doing the walk of shame.

juyeon doesn't seem like the type to expect a lady to put out because he bought her dinner but you can never be too careful. he seems to notice your apprehension because he asks you for your address upfront, raising three fingers in an oath.

"i promise to conduct no funny business and i will take you home safe and sound, y/n," he says solemnly, and the way his eyes sparkle in the light of the moon is enough to make your resolve melt a little bit as you laugh softly.

"alright juyeon. since you promised no funny business," you quip lightly, entering your address on the navigation screen next to the steering wheel.

juyeon squints at your address, which is fifteen minutes away, before looking at you strangely. "are you sure this is the right address? my building is right next door! i would've seen you at some point, and trust me, i'd never forget a face like yours."

"uh, yeah, this is my address. i'm usually never home though, since i'm always either with jimin or my friends jaemin and jeno," you say, watching as juyeon sets the car in reverse to pull out of the parking spot. his arm lifts, as though he were going to put it behind the headrest of your seat to do the classic flirting move to reverse. he sets it back down when he sees you staring at the screen (which had a rearview camera feed on it), realizing that it would be dumb to try and make a move in such a cliché way.

"jeno? jeno lee?" juyeon asks as you guys pull out of the parking spot. you glance at him sideways, wondering if he were going to offer the same cautionary tale that jaemin and jeno had presented to you.

"yeah. he's one of my best friends. do you know him?" you ask, already presuming the answer.

juyeon is silent, as though he's weighing options in his mind. should he be honest with you? should he preserve your feelings?

"i know of him. i don't know him all that well," juyeon says finally, and you know that juyeon has decided to take the third option. neutrality. and while you're tempted on asking him to expand, you really don't know him well enough to do that.

so you just leave the topic aside and wait for him to start a different conversation.

he does soon enough, but you know that his heart isn't in it anymore. you engage in polite smalltalk until he pulls up to your apartment complex. you thank him for driving you and are about to step out of the car when juyeon suddenly touches your wrist gently, afraid to make rude or rough gestures.

you pause, half out of the car as you turn to him with a quizzical smile.

"i had a good time getting to know you today, y/n. and i know that it was just an excuse for those two to go on a date without making it weird but i really did have a good time getting to know you. i hope that i didn't make a bad impression at the end." his eyes are shining under the dim lighting of the few rooms that are still lit up in your apartment complex.

you smile at him gently, shaking your head to assure him. "you didn't make a bad impression. i had a good time getting to know you too."

you're ready to step out of the car once more when juyeon's fingers on your wrist wrap around them, this time a little bit more firm on claiming your attention.

"i - i want to see you again. i've honestly never connected this well with someone before. would you be open to that?" juyeon asks. you pause for a moment before giving in. how could you say no to him when he was looking at you with such big, brown eyes with so much hope hidden in them?

but even as you give juyeon your number, you can practically hear the bright red warning signs in your mind - and for some reason, jeno was the one screaming every single one of those signs.

"good night y/n," juyeon says, his smile every inch as heartbreakingly charming as the moment you knew he'd be bad for you.

you offer a tight, cautious smile in return. "good night juyeon."

+++

for someone who was fiercely overprotective of his friends, jeno had a strange tendency of self-sabotaging his relationships with them. not all of them - mostly just you. he didn't know what it was about you but somehow, he always just seemed to be saying the wrong things at the wrong time.

jaemin seems to think that it's because jeno has feelings for you (which he most definitely does not) (at all) (for real).

it wasn't as though jeno didn't like when you went on dates. in fact, he liked to think that he was rather supportive. it was just that you had a tendency to pick out all of the shittiest men in seoul to date and quite frankly, jeno hated it.

and you knew that. you'd been dealing with jeno's strange tendencies for three years now. he knew that you knew that he'd call you by next week and everything would be back to normal. that's usually how it went when you went on a particularly serious date on any level. strange set of coincidences that jeno only seemed to fuck up the worst right before or after a date you were raving about.

huh.

"i'm telling you jeno, you have got to tell her the way you feel about her," jaemin says, tossing a water bottle at jeno. they're sitting on the floor in front of the tv, watching money heist halfheartedly. terrible show to be their 'let's talk about our feelings' show but jaemin and jeno never could have a conversation like that without some level of violent scheming occurring in the background.

"i don't feel any way about y/n, jaemin. honestly, it's getting really fucking annoying that you keep saying that i do," jeno says, digging his chopsticks into his chinese takeout food. jaemin rolls his eyes, sitting down next to jeno with his own box of takeout.

"i swear to god. why did you call her then? why did you call her on her date last night?" jaemin asks. jeno shrugs, setting his food down before sighing.

"i don't know, okay? i just...you know what happened with juyeon. i just can't imagine her going through something like that," jeno says softly. jaemin looks at him before clearing his throat, forcing jeno to look at him square in the eyes.

"look, i know that you and juyeon don't have the greatest past but you have got to let her find her person. who knows! maybe juyeon's changed in the last three years. you literally don't know him anymore. and besides, this isn't about juyeon and you know it. you did this when she got with daniel, and then sunghoon, and then even doyoung." jaemin shakes his head, trying to get jeno to understand his own feelings. "you're blind to it but every time she actually feels good about someone, you somehow need to take a break from her. why?"

jeno doesn't actually have the answer to that question. why, indeed, is the question of the night.

later that night, when jaemin has turned in (or rather, announced that he was going to sleep, only to sit in bed and occupy their shared netflix account for hours), jeno pulls out his phone and searches up three words.

we need space.

he searches in his messages and cringes when he sees the number of outgoing texts that have space (as in the number of times he's broken up with someone over text) in them. he filters all of the other people out except for you and it pisses him off that jaemin is right.

may 2020. the first time jeno had asked you for some space, when you'd asked daniel to be your boyfriend.

august 2021. the second time you guys had taken some space, when you'd gone on your first date with sunghoon.

september 2022. the third time that you had had to take a break from each other. when jeno had introduced you to doyoung with his own hands.

realistically, jeno knew that jaemin was right. and with the evidence staring at him so incriminatingly, there was no way to refute the accusations.

but as much as jeno had dated around, he still didn't know what or who he was looking for. sure he was attracted to you as a person and your, uh, physicality - but that didn't mean that you were the one for him. and if jeno were to pursue something with you that made him realize that you truly weren't what he was looking for after all, not only would he be losing you as a partner but he'd be losing you as a best friend too.

so he continues in the toxic cycle of taking a break from you every time he feels as though his feelings are getting too high in his chest for him to contain them and never giving you or jaemin an explanation of why.

jeno knew it was wrong. he knew that his life would be so much easier if he just came clean and you fell one way or another on the scale of 'already dated' and 'haven't dated yet' like most of the girls on campus. but it was different with you.

it'd always been different with you.

so jeno rolls over, and goes to bed, dreaming of you and juyeon holding hands on your first date alone. he's never had such a restless night of sleep in his life.

+++

you know that you're being a bad friend to jimin when she's pouting at you swirling your straw in your macchiato instead of listening to her rambles.

"come on, y/n. it's been three days. you know that jeno gets like this - it's not like this is new right?" jimin says, covering your hand with both of hers, blinking at you curiously.

you smile and shake your head. "yeah. i'm sorry. this is supposed to be about you and i'm just getting in my head about this shit."

jimin tuts, eyebrows furrowing in mock anger. "that's not what i mean and you know it. i'll talk about jaehyun whether you're listening or not and you and i both know that. i just - i guess i'm not sure why you're always so hung up over jeno doing this when you know that he's gonna do it."

"you're right. it's not new. and i'm sorry that it keeps coming up when i really hate that he does this but i just wish he would talk to me instead of shutting me out every time that something like this happens. it's just him and jaemin cooped up and talking to each other for a week before they go back to being normal. and i get it. they're guys. they need a break and they need to do guy things and take a break from girls or whatever the fuck straight boys do. but this is getting out of hand and ridiculous."

but you catch yourself, shaking your head once more as you focus on jimin. "thank you for letting me get that out of my system. now tell me what you were saying about jaehyun. i feel like i've lost my best friend to some random guy for the past three days!"

jimin eyes you for a moment longer (and you know that she's not going to let this go) but decides to take mercy on you.

"well, jaehyun and i have been doing really well, honestly! we've seen each other every single day for the last three days - which isn't that hard considering that we've been having sex all day in every square inch of his apartment." jimin sees the scandalized look on your face before laughing. "don't worry, he lives alone and we've actually been going on non-sexual dates too. we connect in more ways than one if you get what i mean."

you slap jimin's arm incredulously, looking around the cute little café that you were sitting in to make sure that no one was listening. no one was, of course, given that it was 11:30 am on a monday but that was besides the point.

"oh my god. so are you guys going to make it official or what?" you ask, leaning forward on your steepled fingers. jimin shrugs, leaning back in her chair languidly.

"i don't know. i mean, i really like our chemistry and i like where this is going but i'm not going to label it. i'm definitely not going to be the one to pop the 'what are we' question - that's gotta be him," jimin says. "even though i am so incredibly head over heels for him. so i would like to be his girlfriend. for realsies."

she adds on the last part almost as an afterthought when she sees your unbelieving face.

"i mean it! i really want to be more than just a situationship but i really can't be the one to initiate that. i'm tired of always having to express interest in others. i attract; i don't chase," jimin says with a catty smile and you can't help but grin at that.

maybe jeno was really onto something. girl time was amazing. maybe that's why jeno needed some space from you.

"i agree. and you know what, i don't want to knock it but that honestly doesn't seem all that strange, considering that your location has consistently been showing that you're at jaehyun's place for the past 72 hours," you say, laughing at her mischievously when she returns the favor with a slap to your arm.

"i don't know. yeah. anyway. speaking of jaehyun, or not really him, but his friend - not the point! jaehyun mentioned that you gave juyeon your number? and that you've been kinda talking?" jimin says, and now it's your turn to blush.

"no - i mean, yes. i did give him my number but it's honestly not like that. he seems great and all but jeno and jaemin seemed really spooked when i mentioned him. i trust them when it comes to boys. especially with my shitty taste in them," you say thoughtfully and jimin can't help but agree with that.

she checks her phone and groans, starting to shuffle her things together as she prepares to leave. "this has been so good but i have to get to class and you know how much of a pain in the ass professor joo is."

you also start to gather your belongings, slurping down the leftovers of your macchiato. "yeah. i think that my early lunch break is coming to an end anyway. i've got a meeting at 6 pm but we're still on for dinner and drinks this friday, right?"

jimin nods distractedly as she checks her phone to see if jaehyun had texted her. he hadn't. in the past four hours. she clicks her phone shut and looks at you with a determined look in her eyes.

"yes. for sure. you and i have a date this friday and i don't want you to cancel, you hear me? and do not let those investors keep my baby from me like they did last time," jimin says, wagging her pointer finger at you threateningly. you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to her cheek as the two of you make your way out of the café.

"i hear you. no more investors past 7 pm on a friday," you say, raising your hands in surrender when jimin squints her eyes at you. she side hugs you before checking the time once more (therefore realizing that professor joo wasn't above calling her out in the middle of class) and scurrying off to snu, a block down from the café you were previously in.

you sigh, shaking your head fondly as you turn in the opposite direction to head to work.

+++

turns out, friday seems to be a very popular night. not only do you have back to back meetings from 4 pm to 7 pm, but juyeon and jimin have texted you multiple times to confirm or (try) to make plans for friday night.

and honestly you didn't really want to go out. in between the radio silence between you, jeno, jaemin (who only really communicated in really stupid tiktoks back and forth), juyeon's suave maneuvering you into agreeing to a raincheck to saturday for the date, and jimin lamenting the fact that jaehyun hadn't brought up the 'what are we' conversation, there was so much going on.

all you needed were your friends, chinese takeout, and a little bit of jane the virgin. or other soapy dramas to take your mind off of everything.

but you had promised jimin and you'd be damned if you were going to bail on your friend when she was already not feeling well.

and besides, you refused to be a corporate slave who canceled on her friends because she was married to her job. that's not why you had chosen this job. and that's definitely why you had decided to reject pre-med as a sophomore in college.

so you find yourself taking shots with jimin in her kitchen and...jaehyun and juyeon.

when you had walked into jimin's apartment with nachos and shooters of pink whitney to pregame, you really weren't expecting to be face to face with juyeon - or jaehyun, honestly, given that jimin had been so heartbroken over the fact that jaehyun hadn't initiated the conversation yet.

not to mention the fact that she had made sure that the two of you were going out in the first place because of the whole jaehyun fiasco. so when you come face to face with the last person on the planet who should be in jimin's apartment, you're more than a little confused.

"oh, hey y/n. long time no see," jaehyun says with an easy smile, dimples showing that he had no clue that you knew that your best friend was waiting on a kind of serious conversation with him. you manage a tight smile before pulling shooters out of your purse, putting all four of them down on the counter in front of you.

"yeah. i thought it'd be a little longer though. jimin, i thought we were having a girls night?" you ask, eyes flashing at her when you turn out of view from jaehyun and juyeon. jimin just shrugs helplessly as juyeon steps in.

"don't blame her. i was the one who asked if we could tag along for the night. i promise we won't cause any trouble," juyeon says, and you turn to look at him, only to see him looking straight at jaehyun. his eyes dart between jaehyun and jimin before finally landing on you and you take the hint.

"oh. no worries. yeah, no worries at all, actually. hey, you know what i actually wanted to confirm something about tomorrow's plans with you if i could steal you for a couple seconds?" you say, leaving no room for denial as you wrap your arm in his and walk the both of you to the balcony, closing the door behind you.

"thank you for understanding - jaehyun wants to talk to jimin today about making things official but he's been so nervous about it that he's been putting it off. i figured that it would be better for me to come with him to make sure he doesn't chicken out. and catch you guys before you leave so that he doesn't sit and ferment in his feelings any longer," juyeon explains slowly, sure to refrain from turning around to see how things were going inside.

you lean over the metal bars of the balcony, the cold sinking into your skin in a refreshing way, the april air finally warming up enough to go out without needing a literal winter jacket.

"ahh. good idea. don't tell her i told you this but she was worried that he really wasn't into her," you say. juyeon snorts, a sound that's almost unbecoming from a man so handsome.

"isn't into her? he's head over heels for her. i don't think it's taken him more than thirty minutes to get into a relationship with someone if he wanted to. the fact that he took over a week to figure out his feelings means that he's serious. more serious than i've ever seen him." juyeon seems thoughtful as he trails off, letting his words sit on his tongue in a way that almost feels like he can truly feel the weight of the words.

"hm. or is just unsure of how he feels," you say, and juyeon looks at you strangely, turning so that he was leaning on the railing, his gaze fixated on you.

"are you really that cynical about men?" he asks chidingly, and you shrug.

"yeah. i mean. i don't know. i'm best friends with two of them so i know first hand how fucked up men can be. trust me, i pray to god every day for more patience before i fuck jeno or jaemin up for good," you say, and you can feel juyeon's presence grow cold at the mention of your best friends.

when you look at him though, he has nothing but warmth in his eyes and he smiles at you. "i will admit that there are a lot of messed up things that guys have done but it's not fair to categorize all men due to the faults of a few."

"uh-huh. and when men turn into heartbreakers after getting fucked over by one girl...it's okay?" you say, raising an eyebrow and you can feel juyeon trying to physically retract his statement.

"no. no. it's definitely not okay to hurt other people because you've been hurt. but give us some credit, okay? some of us are trying our best," juyeon says, and you watch as his eyes fall to your lips before dragging them upwards again.

"some of us are just trying to find our other half."

you're silent for a moment, and the moment is all you need to push off of the railings and turn to juyeon with a sad smile. "look juyeon, you're a great guy and i hate to nip things in the bud - especially with someone i get along so well with. but my friends are the most important people in my life. so i don't know what happened between you, jeno, or jaemin but i know that if it really came down to it, they take precedence."

juyeon nods, like he'd been expecting you to say as much. how, you don't understand, given that your reasoning had come out of pretty much left field. and for no real reason too. but men are predictable, easy to read, and all it takes is one moment to understand their intentions.

"yeah. i know. i figured you'd pick them. not that i'm trying to guilt you for that or that i expect you to pick me or anything but i still tried my best, you know," juyeon says casually, giving you a thinly suppressed heartbroken smile. you melt slightly as you turn to him, giving him a half shrug.

"i'm sorry. i'm sure your other half would be so lucky to have you," you say gently. you look at your phone, where jimin has texted you saying that she's going to have to bail on girls night as her and jaehyun had decided to stay in for the night. juyeon seemingly gets a similar text because when you look back inside to the apartment, jaehyun is holding hands with jimin, who uses her free hand to wave sheepishly at you as they recede backwards where the bedroom was.

"i guess we've overstayed our welcome," juyeon says with a laugh, opening the balcony door as the two of you make your way back inside to grab any personal belongings and leave before you witnessed something that would end up scarring you forever.

you eye the shooters and then exchange a look with juyeon.

“i know we’re not - whatever but honestly, i think that you’re good company and this kind of night doesn’t deserve go wasted,” you say, grabbing the shooters and juyeon’s hand and dragging him out of jimin’s apartment when you hear the very telltale sign of a bedroom door shutting down the hall.

juyeon takes one look at the shooters in your hand and the glint in your eyes before taking the two of the little bottles you offer to him.

“i can’t believe i’m doing this right now,” juyeon mutters under his breath, but his smile is lighthearted.

“what, grown men can’t drink pink whitney?” you ask, throwing a shooter back and immediately regretting the fact that you don’t have chasers with you. you may not be an amateur on the night scene but alcohol still always needed a chaser.

“no,” juyeon says, knocking back both of them a little too smoothly. “i meant taking shots with the girl who rejected me in front of her best friend’s apartment where her best friend and my best friend are fucking.”

you look at him, searching for any sense of genuine discontentedness but the way that juyeon’s eyes curve into teasing crescents convince you otherwise.

it would be so easy to choose him. so incredibly easy. but jeno’s face flashes through your mind and you find yourself taking a step back, shaking your head when juyeon looks at you questioningly.

“to the club!”

+++

there are two things that you learn about juyeon by the time you’re another two shots deep: a) he is an absolute gentleman - not just to you, but to the other people around the two of you as well. b) he is a very flirtatious drunk.

in fact, he manages the very big, very linebacker looking bouncer to let him into the club even though his name wasn’t on the list with nothing but a charming smile and an absolute inability to keep from flirting with everything and anything in sight.

which is funny to watch, especially from the other side of the bouncer, because every time juyeon says something particularly risqué, you can see the bouncer’s ears go bright red before he finally relents and lets juyeon in.

but it’s somehow less funny when he’s using those lines on you. it somehow makes your head dizzy and it makes you forget why you turned him down in the first place. you’re half-convinced that this had been juyeon’s plan all along. to turn on the charm to the max so that when you’re under the lights (that honestly might invoke epilepsy; why the fuck were they flying around the place like that), you forget all about jeno.

it’s a bad decision, you repeat to yourself as you watch juyeon make his way through the crowd to where you’re standing in an isolated, somewhat calmer corner. jeno and jaemin warned you against him for a reason. protect your peace, y/n.

and even while you repeat that to yourself over and over again, when juyeon’s hand holds yours precariously as he pulls you into the growing mess of bodies, you find it harder and harder to convince yourself that that was the truth. god, he looks good.

his hair has fallen messily across his forehead, contrasting the way it had been carefully gelled back before. he’s rolled up the sleeves of his button up to reveal his forearms, and you feel no matter than a man as your eyes trail the depths that planes of his chest promise from where they peek out of his half unbuttoned shirt.

you’re vaguely aware that there are various people waiting for you to either make a move or to push him away once and for all. it felt like every single person in the club was fixated upon the two of you - do you want him or not? because you’re holding up the fucking line. for you and your friend.

and so you take the plunge.

you move his hand from where it was innocently resting on your wrist and place it on the small of your back, smiling when juyeon takes the hint and draws you closer to him so that your chest is pressed against his.

“hey beautiful,” juyeon breathes as he looks down at you, almost in disbelief. “what are you doing here?”

you know, even tipsy, that he’s looking for a real answer. and you don’t want to play him - you don’t want to add to the list of heartbreak.

“i’m looking for someone to keep me company tonight,” you say and look up at him through your lashes, a coy smile playing on your lips when juyeon’s breath falters as you do so. “just for the night though. you know anyone who might interested?”

juyeon pulls you impossibly closer and you register the copious amounts of men (for you) and women (for him) that are turning away from the two of you, more than a little disappointed.

“yeah, i might know someone.”

and with that, he spins you so that your back is pressed against his front, his arms caging you in protectively when he sees that a man is looking at you like he genuinely wants to eat you up.

you can feel your self-control slipping further and further away from you as the two of you just let the music fill you up, forgetting about your inhibitions as long as you had this music and him.

it’s too perfect though, and you realize as much when you make eye contact with jeno fucking lee across the club. right before he dips his head to whisper in some girl’s ear.

jaemin is right next to him, his arm laying casually on another girl and you can see the sheer panic in his eyes when he sees you, and then the confusion when he realizes just who you’re pressed up against. you watch as he leans over to whisper (yell; you’re sure that no one can whisper in an establishment threatening to break the sound barrier) something in jeno’s ear but he’s firmly shut down when jeno waves him off.

you scoff at that, turning around the pair of you around so that juyeon’s back was to the two idiots that you call your friends, now facing the dj booth.

the song switches to a much more upbeat song that you don’t recognize and you take it as your cue to push any and all thoughts of your friends out of your mind. you choose to give no apologies for the way that you spend your time - especially if your friends chose to give you no explanation for their behavior.

if they didn’t need to explain themselves, neither do you.

and it works for a while. for a while, all you can think of is the warmth that fills your body. from the alcohol, the heat of juyeon’s body pressed against yours, or even the excitement of the atmosphere; all if it is just so intoxicating.

you forget all about the fact act jeno and jaemin are just a few feet away, actively avoiding you (and doing a poor job of doing so) until juyeon spins you around, looking deep into your eyes in a way that makes you feel, heat rising to your cheeks as you watch his lips move.

“i know that you don’t want - honestly, whatever it is that you don’t want - but jeno and jaemin are here and you haven’t pushed me off of you. so i’m going to shoot my shot for one last time, y/n. and if you reject me this time, i think that we should go our separate ways,” juyeon says, his voice soft and gentle and yet somehow, you can hear every word he says with perfect clarity.

you honestly don’t know what to say. juyeon had caught you in a bad moment with jeno and jaemin. more specifically, jeno. you didn’t want that to cloud your judgement though. you had known juyeon for a total of maybe a week. you had known jeno and jaemin for years and for those years, their opinions on the men in your life had very rarely been wrong.

and yet, the boy that they had warned you against was pressed up against you and those two were on the other side of the club, arms wrapped around girls you knew they would forget about by the morning.

you sigh, stepping back from juyeon, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation making you sober up more than you want to. you hear the beat drop to ‘kiss me better’ by rihanna in the background building up and it seems like everything in the universe is just pushing you to give juyeon a chance.

but juyeon understand what you mean when you step away from him and he gives you one last, longing look before smiling, gently tugging you forward so that the two of you can make your way to a less crowded area.

“you wanna go home?” juyeon asks. you know that he’s asking for his own sake, almost as though he was asking for permission to get with someone else to nurse him through his rejection if you wouldn’t. but he’s a gentleman and he wouldn’t leave you for the wolves and so he asks you if you want to go home instead.

“yeah. i want to go home.”

juyeon nods, already pulling out his phone. “let me call you an uber. and y/n? i’m not upset. i’m just glad that i know i did everything i could. jeno’s a lucky guy for you to care this much about what he says and thinks.”

you want to disagree with him. he’s my friend. of course his opinions matter. sorry. it’s not personal. i actually liked spending time with you.

but even as these thoughts battle in your mind, you find yourself unable to say any of the words out loud.

jimin was your friend but that stopped you very rarely from doing whatever you wanted to do in the end. jaemin would often yell at you for your terrible affinity for working yourself to the bone and you brushed his concern to the side every time. but it was different with jeno. it had always been different with jeno.

you’re too drunk to think about the implications of any of that though so you just smile once again, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to juyeon’s cheek.

“you’re so good, juyeon. regardless of what anyone says.”

and with that, you step into the uber that has reached the club in record time and head home.

+++

you’re not surprised by the text you get from jimin in the morning. or the one from jaemin. in fact, there are only two texts that surprise you when you manage to finally look at your phone with clear enough eyes.

jiminy cricket: OMG i’m so sorry abt last night love!! heard you went out w juyeon tho ;) we need to debrief fr

jaejaeminna: sorry i didn’t get a chance to say hi before you left

juyeon lee: did you get home safe?

ur mom (jeno): can we talk?

you respond to jimin with a quick for sure, girlie! before stepping into the shower, electing to ignore the rest of the messages in your phone. your roommate, jessica, a girl that you barely interacted with, given that she was usually at her boyfriend’s place or you were at jeno’s or jimin’s had kindly left extra pancakes that she had clearly made before she dashed out of the house.

you munch on them slowly, sending her a message of profound gratitude as you try to digest the events of last night (as well as the delicious pancakes), making sure to tousle your hair every so often to get it to dry faster.

first, jimin and jaehyun had clearly made things somewhat official (or at least were on the same page) which meant that you probably wouldn’t have to try and help jimin decipher what that entire situation was. a win, really. second, you and juyeon had gone clubbing together and had shared more than one or two intimate moments. third, you shot him down once and for all. fourth, he still called you an uber and made sure you made it home safe. fifth, you saw jeno and jaemin at the club and neither of them said anything to you.

this was officially the longest that you had gone without speaking to jeno - or even jaemin.

even the stupid tiktok’s had faded away to nothingness by the end of last week from jaemin, which meant that something was so incredibly wrong, it wasn’t even funny.

also, jeno never said can we talk.

it was usually a much more casual wanna get chinese? or even a bring your stupid ass over here cause jaemin misses you. that was more his speed in his form of apology or trying to make it clear to you that the two of you were back to normal now. he’d never acknowledge the two or three days of radio silence, electing to just pretend that they never happened in the first place.

so going from not talking at all to suddenly such a loaded question was new and kind of surreal for you. not to mention that jaemin’s last text to you was also indicative that something was seriously off between the three of you. the text before that had been a tiktok of a man sitting in a car yelling, “it’s the way you act!” and now it was that he didn’t say hi at the club.

you sigh, debating all of your options carefully.

you were obviously going to have to talk to jeno about the situation at some point. and honestly, you were going to have to have a serious conversation about the fact that he would do this every so often because it’s getting way too much for you to handle. it wasn’t as though you were doing something wrong - jaemin would call you out on your behavior, even if jeno didn’t.

you were left to decipher what exactly it was that had jeno in such a pissy mood and you would have to try and figure out what it is on your own because he’s a grown man that doesn’t know what communication meant. for someone who always warned you against the toxicity of men, he was doing a pretty great job of showing you exactly why to avoid them.

pushing all thoughts of jeno and everything else to the side, you decide to take the day as a self-care day for yourself. lord knows that with everything you had going on, self-care was the one thing you desperately needed. of many things, really, but taking a walk and soul food was going to have to do.

you’re just putting on a face mask (one of the korean ones that you had had to sell your left foot to pay the shipping for) when your doorbell rings and you hate the way that you already know who’s at the door even before you step to the entryway, where the monitor is to see who is buzzing for you.

you’re greeted by jeno’s face, alone, looking worse for the wear as he ruffles his hair, shifting from foot to foot as he waits for you to either let him in or at least press the intercom to speak with him. you’re trying to make a decision and you know that decision, as trivial as it seems, would be what would set up your friendship with him in the future.

were you really going to give him another chance? even as he continued to mess up this hard?

you don’t say anything in the intercom but the faint buzzing noise that echoes in the monitor is response enough as jeno opens the door that has opened once you pressed the button, effectively solidifying your decision.

he was jeno. your jeno. you couldn’t just not listen to what he had to say.

the time that jeno takes to make it to the fourth floor where your apartment was seemed to have stretched on for eternity. you weren’t sure the last time that jeno had been in here (last weekend) but suddenly everything in the apartment was just too messy.

you panic and rush to clean everything in sight before you pause awkwardly. this is just jeno. the same boy who had come over and thrown up on your birthday after drinking too much at your party. the same boy who would be sitting in his room screaming into his headset as he played video games, having no regard for you and jaemin spending quality quiet time together.

and he was also the boy who asked for space when you needed him the most.

so you put down your weapon of choice (a swiffer mop) and wait for the eventual knock at the door that finally comes about a half second later. you take a deep breath before opening the door, coming face to face with your ‘best friend’ of the past three years.

the little monitor had done the damage little justice. the eyeballs under jeno’s eyes were deep and purple, with his cheekbones protruding a little more than you remember them to, and his gaze deep and sorrowful.

but somehow, you could look past all of that because your gaze is caught by something else - the purple and very telling hickey on his neck. he’s clearly made an attempt to cover it up with what you assume is whatever foundation you might have left at their place on the nights that you’re too lazy to come home before work. the attempt isn’t all that successful, given that your foundation is about three hundred shades too dark for his skin (which is as pale as a ghost around this time of year) but you appreciate the effort.

not really.

jeno looks uncharacteristically shy as he stands in the living room, having switched out his shoes for his slippers that he bought specifically for your apartment once him and jaemin started coming over more often. they usually fought over ‘jeno’s’ slippers (they had peaches on them while ‘jaemin’s’ had ducks) but jaemin usually conceded to jeno.

usually, he’d be sprawled out on the sofa with little more than a half-hearted ‘hey’ and bags of chinese takeout on the kitchen counter but you see none of that now. now, he looked like a lost puppy, shuffling awkwardly to stand next to the couch.

it would almost be funny if it weren’t for the fact that the two of you haven’t spoken in a week. or the hickey.

“has it ever occurred to you that we might act like more than friends?”

the question is sudden, breaking your nostalgia and bringing your train of thought to a screeching halt.

“excuse me?” your voice is calmer than you thought it would be in your head as you spin on your heel to look at jeno in the eye. he licks his lips, a nervous habit that he’d picked up from you, but his eyes don’t shift from yours, decidedly steady. he’s thought this for a while, you realize belatedly. it was just a question of how long and what that really meant.

“i mean you leave your foundation at my place and i buy slippers for yours. i can’t stand olives but when we get pizza, i get olives anyway so that you can pick them off of my slices and eat them. you don’t know your left from right but you still drive forty-five minutes down and back to the bakery to get iced lemon poundcake every time i’m upset.

“i can’t stand it when you meet a decent guy for once in your life and i go off the radar but we - i can’t spend more than a few days away from you. so, i’m always showing up at your apartment with chinese food when the last thing i want to do is hear about you raving about your new date who has a job at amazon and wears real rolex watches while i’m still eating instant ramen and trying to get a grip on life.

“the worst part is that i think i’ve always known. even last night, i was falling into my old pattern of using people to get over you, y/n. in between trying to figure out why i couldn’t click with anyone else besides you and trying to figure out why i feel so empty every time i feel like you’re slipping away from me, i think i figured it out. sure, i hate juyeon because of who he is and what he’s done in the past but i hate him even more because he used to be just like me. and now he’s changed so much and become such a good person. the fact that he’s the bigger, better, older, stronger version of me with his life together freaks me out so much because what if you replace me with him? and then i lose the one person i think i’ve ever properly fallen for and one of my best friends all in one go? and it’s all so selfish but when i have ever tried to hide myself from you, y/n?”

your mind is spinning. jeno is heaving by the end of his rambling. you can’t seem to find your grip on reality. everything is just wrong. it’s all wrong. everything is wrong. what?

jeno lee. playboy extraordinaire. mr. couldn’t be tied down. the boy who came home with a new broken heart in his jar of hearts that he hid deep inside his mind so he wouldn’t have to think of the unintentional consequences of having an unavailable pool of love.

and here he was, standing next to the couch in the living room, looking at you with so much anger, confusion, and sheer love in his eyes that you’re almost upset with yourself that you hadn’t seen it sooner. had he always looked at you like that?

you don’t know what to say though. you can’t even tell if he’s still talking, by the way that the blood is rushing in your head like an unforgiving tsunami has broken loose. you can’t hear anything, much too preoccupied with your own thoughts to even think of listening to his.

you vaguely register the fact that you and jeno are somehow sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a good entire seat away from each other. that was good, at least. you’re sure that your legs would’ve given out on you at some point if you had remained standing.

“why do you hate juyeon so much?”

the question doesn’t seem to faze him as much as you wished it would. what was it with men and not being stunned by the most random questions or thoughts you can come up with? it somewhat frustrated you that you couldn’t stun them with the same shock factor that they seemed to utilize on you.

jeno sighs, raking a hand through his messy hair as he struggles to come up with the right words to say. or honestly, any non-stupid words.

“juyeon was actually one of the reasons why i came to snu in the first place. he was kind of like my mentor - a guy that i looked up to a lot in high school. he was one of my older friend’s roommate so when i came to check out snu, he toured me around and showed me his entire lifestyle. i was a senior in high school back then and he was just a sophomore but i swear, i’d never clicked with someone that fast before.

“he’s always been super smart and incredibly charming. and back when i met him, as a stupid senior in high school, i thought that everything that he had was what i wanted. he had a new girl at his apartment any time he wanted and always seemed like he had the entire college wrapped around his finger.” jeno gets up, looking frustrated as he starts pacing back and forth between the walls of the living room of the apartment.

“long story short, i caught him making out with my girlfriend at the time over the summer between high school and college. and it all came crashing down. in hindsight, maybe i shouldn’t have hated him nearly as much as i did but the fact that i couldn’t see that he had no qualms of getting with anyone who wanted to get with him hurt me. everything i had idolized came crashing down when i saw the two of them.”

jeno stops pacing, looking down at his hands, rough and raw from the biting winds outside. “it just - it just hurt y/n. and it made it so incredibly easy to just not believe in love anymore. and then i met you and you came into college looking for the one and it was just so hard not to believe in love. when you said you were going out with juyeon, it took me back to the darkest parts of my past mentally. ridiculous? weak? yeah. i know. but i couldn’t help it.”

“it’s not weak or ridiculous, jeno,” you say gently, finding your voice once more. “i’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me before. i mean, i thought i was your best friend!”

jeno laughs drily, a grating sound that tugs at your heart strings. “but he’s gone clean, y/n. he’s everything that i couldn’t be and so much more. he’s near perfect. i couldn’t stop you from finding ‘the one’ that you’ve been dreaming about since i’ve known you. even if that meant that i finally had to let the past go. even if it meant that i had to give up on being able to love you.”

you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “jeno…”

jeno shakes his head, looking at you with watery eyes, dragging his red hands across them roughly. “stop. i don’t need pity. i just…i just wanted clarity. have you always thought of me as a friend? was i making up everything in my head? did - did i imagine that we could’ve had something this whole time?”

you’re at a loss for words. jeno wasn’t wrong. you’d gone to the ends of the earth to make jeno happy. any time he was upset, you’d drop everything to go get that goddamn lemon cake. you couldn’t go more than a week without him. even if the entire world went to shit, you’d always thought that you and jeno would go down together, fighting side by side. if it really came down to choosing between your friends, some part of you knew that you’d always choose jeno before jaemin or jimin.

and some part of you wonders if you’d always had that much affection for him.

“i don’t know,” you say honestly. jeno’s face falls, and an awkward silence falls between the two of you, with his feet pointed to the door and muscles tensed to move. you know that if you don’t come up with the words to say something that’ll convince him to stay, you’ll have given him no reason to. you know he’s going to leave.

no matter what, you cannot lose jeno, you realize. he’s the one part of your life that cannot leave. he’s the person that buys slippers for your house. he’s the boy who can’t stand when he has to compete for your attention. he’s the man who’s shoulder you cry on when your heart suffers even the smallest scratch.

he’s your jeno.

“i don’t know,” you begin, rushing to continue when you see jeno’s crestfallen expression. “but it’s all so sudden, jeno. you’ve been thinking about your feelings for a long while. i’ve honestly never considered the possibility of - of us being more than friends. of being together. maybe i’ve had feelings for you this whole time without knowing. maybe my ‘one’ has been you this whole time. maybe we’re better off as friends! i don’t know anything.”

jeno’s breath catches as he realizes what the hidden implication in your words is.

“but i’m willing to find out if you are.”

+++

after the enlightening conversation that you’d had with jeno that morning, you’d made plans with him to go on a proper date on wednesday, a day that you had nothing but boring meetings and jeno only had two classes. the two of you had decided to first go on the date and then try to figure out how you felt about each other from there.

you’d also taken it upon yourself to curve juyeon once and for all. he was a great guy and you were sure that he’d be a great person to whoever he’s meant to be with but after reminding him that you were distinctly uninterested (and apologizing if you’d insinuated that you wanted to see him as an anything after that night), you’d deleted his number and all thoughts of him from your mind.

jaemin had been equally easy to make up with. you understood - after all, jaemin was jeno’s friend first and foremost. even if he didn’t necessarily agree with jeno and his tendencies, being his friend first meant that he had to prioritize jeno and his feelings. he was relieved to hear that jeno had finally grown the balls (verbatim) to confess the painstaking secret that he had been holding onto for the past three years.

“three years? he’s liked me since he met me? and you never said anything, jaemin?” you say incredulously, thanking the barista with a quick smile before grabbing your coffee, rushing to beat the morning sidewalk traffic as you walk to office.

jaemin’s face on your screen is mostly covered by his covers - a sign that he’s either skipping a class (ancient world history) or avoiding some work that he has to do. it was both, but he would concede neither to you.

“it wasn’t my place to say anything,” jaemin says finally, and you finally look at him properly through the little facetime box, watching him drag his hand over his face. he looks as though he’s aged about ten years in the time that you haven’t seen him - which was only a few days ago, technically.

“and besides, you saw us at the club. did it look like jeno was exercising any type of common sense? clearly not. he wasn’t ready to listen to the truth, no matter who was delivering it. so there was no point in trying to make him to his senses,” jaemin continues, wrapping his blanket around himself a little tighter. “it didn’t help that his coping mechanism thus far has been to just run away from his issues, forget they exist, and then use a distraction to pretend that he was never affected by it in the first place.”

you sigh. this much was obvious to you as well. the day that jeno had come over, that had been one of the first things that you had confronted him about. he had presented a similar explanation then as jaemin was now but even if he didn’t say anything, you knew that was the truth.

“that reminds me - jimin texted me this morning asking if you were okay. have you talked to her since friday night?” jaemin asks and you groan. in all of this mess, you had completely neglected to debrief jimin and fill her in on everything that was happening.

“oh shit, i completely forgot to call her,” you say, swiping into the company building, smiling as you pass a familiar face. “i’ll talk to her tonight.”

“yeah. she seemed kinda worried. apparently juyeon told jaehyun that you two had cut it off for good and told him about you seeing jeno and i at the club. i guess jaehyun went and told jimin,” he says sullenly. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“just because you’re the only one getting no action doesn’t mean that you have to be jealous of jimin,” you say.

“no - what? no! it’s not that. i’m single by choice, thank you very much. i could have a hundred girls lining up for me if i wanted,” he says, clearly miffed. you stifle a laugh; it was so easy to rile men up. “but it’s like a violation of bro code. jaehyun knows that jeno doesn’t fuck with juyeon and he also knows that jimin is one of your best friends. like what did he think? that jimin wouldn’t tell jeno and i or that she wouldn’t talk to you about it?”

you blink, completely lost. “i swear to god, i think guys have more complex interpersonal links than girls do. i followed like maybe 20% of what you said.”

jaemin sticks his tongue out at you childishly. “whatever. don’t you have a job to do?”

“don’t you have a class that you’re paying thousands of dollars to take to go to?”

“touché.”

with that, jaemin ends the call but even as you finally sit down in your little glass office, you know that he’s absolutely not going to go to that class. it didn’t help that you’d taken the class last semester and had handed him your notes. at this point, he basically only went to take the tests - after studying your notes for maybe 10 minutes right before.

you’re about to call jaemin again to make sure that he actually gets up to go to class when there’s a knock on the glass of your office.

“y/n? someone’s ordered breakfast for you,” haerin, an underpaid and quite frankly undervalued intern at your office, says. she’s holding a little pastry box and a straw without any coffee. “the person who dropped it off said that he figured you’d already have coffee but you probably forgot the straw.”

you don’t even need to hear the name of your mystery courier boy because you already know who it is.

jeno.

+++

“he brought you breakfast? to your office?” jimin asks incredulously. you had called her soon after haerin had handed you the breakfast (with your favorite pastry inside the box). you seriously needed to hear a girl’s perspective on all of this, even if it was coming from the most romantic person you knew.

“yeah. i mean he’s done it before - like during my first couple of weeks of working, remember how stressed i was? he bought me lunch and dropped it off at the office, back when i was just an intern running around and didn’t have time to go and get it myself.” you blink, looking at jimin worriedly. “that’s not weird, is it?”

jimin ponders for a moment before shaking her head. “i mean you guys were best friends. i’d do it for you. but i don’t know. i feel like guys and girls who are just friends are more like siblings and i feel like girls who are really close are basically like a married couple.”

“why do you and jaemin always say weird shit that confuses me?”

“no - it’s like…like with a truly platonic set of girl and guy friends, they’re always doing sibling-like things. for example, i think i’ve seen you nearly give jaemin a black eye for taking a bite out of your pizza. but if i wanted a bite of your pizza, you’d probably honestly give me the whole slice. i don’t know, but it’s a dynamic that i’ve seen with all of my female friends compared to my guy friends. but you and jeno have never been like that.”

“i have most definitely tried to fight jeno over pizza. i’m sure i’ve fought him over much less, to be honest,” you say and jimin shrugs.

“i’m not here to make you feel one way or another about him. your feelings are yours to figure out. but as an outsider looking in, even if you were to fight him about something stupid like that, it was because that’s how you guys talked to each other. it’s not like you’re actually going to rip that pizza away from him. in the end, if he really wanted it, you’d concede to him. you don’t really do that for siblings. it’s charged in a different way.

“i’d give up my life for my older sister. but if she even looks at me the wrong way, i’m ready to pull out her hair. or my younger brother? he genuinely gets pleasure out of making me have to redo my entire skincare routine because he switched around all of the labels. would he send me breakfast to my office just because? fuck no. would he give me his kidney in a heartbeat? hell yeah.”

jimin looks down before looking up at you once more. “and even if none of that was true, you don’t look at jeno like you look at jaemin.”

this startles you out of your own attempts of running parallels between what jimin was describing and how you and jaemin were or how you and jeno were.

“what do you mean? how do i look at jeno?” you say, your voice coming out shockingly soft and confused.

“you know how you were kicking yourself about not realizing how jeno looks at you? yeah. that’s how i feel looking at you looking at jeno. i didn’t want to say anything to you about it. honestly, mostly because i hated seeing you get down every time he would just disappear from your life. i don’t know that as your friend, i should be encouraging you at all. but he makes you more happy than i’ve seen anyone else make you,” jimin says. “and that’s reason enough for me to be happy for you. to tell you what you don’t realize yourself. even when you dated other people, you always looked at them differently than you looked at jeno.”

“how do i look at jeno, jimin.” it’s not a question and both you and jimin know that you know the answer to what you’re truly asking.

“you look at him like you’re finally ready to love. like you’re realizing again that maybe jeno was the one you’d been waiting for every time.”

+++

your first date with jeno had been a full course of a dumpster fire with a side of natural disaster.

after your (jimin induced) realization that maybe you’d actually had feelings for jeno longer you’d thought, you find yourself going through the day as if you were on autopilot. jeno sends you breakfast on tuesday and wednesday morning as well, although he doesn’t mention a word of it when the two of you are texting.

at least nothing had changed there, thus far. he still sent you those stupid reaction memes that he found on pinterest and never failed to make fun of your typos in the group chat with you, jaemin, jeno, and now jimin.

you hadn’t seen him since friday night but by the time wednesday rolls around, you wish that you had a little bit more time. you’re still reeling from your newfound enlightenment and some childish, hidden romantic side of you wants to bask in the uncertainty and the almost juvenile way that your heart beats a little faster whenever you think of the date tonight.

the two of you had decided that you were going to try and approach it as a truly romantic date, rather than the quick food runs that you were used to with him. which meant you were going to have to clean up and put on a dress - a sight that you’re sure jeno was truly not used to seeing after so long of you lounging around his apartment in sweats all day.

since this was the first proper date you were going on (you insisted that the date with juyeon didn’t count, since you had only gone with the intention of being a good friend to jimin.) in a good while, you’d called in the big guns for reinforcement. the only reinforcements you had, but that was besides the point.

“i still don’t get why you’re curling your hair. it looks so pretty naturally,” jimin laments, setting down the section of hair that she was working as she moves onto the next.

“i know. it’s kinda silly but i wanna feel cute - like i wanna look feminine and feel cute when i see jeno. it’s stupid and i swear it goes against everything feminism has taught me but i just want to feel and look like my inner girly-girl has been begging me to,” you explain, pouting when you catch jimin laughing through the reflection of the vanity mirror where you were sitting.

“baby, that’s not silly at all. and it doesn’t go against feminism to want to dress up and look cute! reminder: feminism is about empowering other women and helping everyone have the freedom to choose what they want for themselves. whether that’s dressing up cute or being a stay-at-home mom or being a working woman or some combination of all of the above and then some,” jimin says and then there’s a wicked glint in her eyes. “it’s also very feminist to get men to do your bidding, i think. and hey, if you have to put on a little black dress to do that, then i’m all for it.”

“you sound absolutely ridiculous,” you scoff, but a little smile tugs at the corner of your lips anyway.

“speaking of little black dresses, you’re wearing a matching set underneath, right?” jimin teases. you swat at her with your free hand that wasn’t applying glitter to your inner eye. “i’m holding a hot iron, you psycho!”

“jimin! i’m not going to have sex on the first date. not that i’m above it but jeno is different,” you say and jimin unfortunately catches the underlying longing tone in your words.

“oh he’s different, is he? girl, where having you been hiding all these feelings for so long?” she says and you find yourself not being able to come up with a rebuttal. honestly, you didn’t know how either of you had been so blind to your feelings for each other. and suddenly, a cold rush of fear runs down your spine.

you twist in your chair, ignoring jimin’s protest that she was almost done with your hair. “wait. you don’t think that this is a mistake, right? like what if he thinks that he has feelings for me but it’s been the chase this whole time. or what if we just don’t click like we think we will? what if i lose my friend and the person that i think i’ve liked for longer than i’d like to admit in one go.”

jimin’s expression turns serious at that. “y/n, you’ve only had a week to figure out your feelings. it’s okay if you want to raincheck and then go on the date when you’re more sure of how you feel, if that’s what you want.”

“that’s not what i want. i think that i actually have liked him for longer than i think. it’s just been so hard to realize that because he’s always been with someone and i’ve always been waiting for the one. it just scares me to think that maybe the one that i’ve been looking for is someone who actually doesn’t think that i’m the one, you know? i don’t know if i could live with losing him.” you blink furiously, willing yourself to not let a single tear fall and ruin all of your hard work for the past couple of hours.

“trust me, y/n, if you’re sure about your feelings and if he really is the one, then everything will work out. have a little faith in the universe.” no sooner does jimin say this, the buzzer rings and you and jimin look at each other in panic.

“it’s still 5:50! he said he was coming at 6:00!” you exclaim and jimin rushes to finish your hair. “you have to distract him! i still have to put my dress on!”

“oh my good lord, i forgot about that. okay, you focus on getting ready, i’m running!” jimin says, cursing when she trips over the cord to the curling iron as she’s running to open the door for jeno.

you shimmy out of your pajamas in hurried movements as you hear jimin say that jeno could come up but that the elevator was broken so he’d have to come up by stairs.

“there’s no sign that says the elevator is broken though,” you hear jeno say as you’re caught in one of the legs of your pajamas, shaking it off wildly as jimin tries to come up with a random explanation on why exactly the elevator had no sign.

“yeah, it actually just broke. like right now. like it was so recent that they didn’t have a chance to put a sign up yet. in fact, i bet that we’re in a space-time pocket and time just moves faster for you and slower for people inside. maybe this building is narnia or something,” jimin says. the room is silent for a moment before you hear the sound of the elevator dinging and you wince, your movements no doubt mirrored by jimin.

you can already see jeno’s amused smirk as jimin says that the elevators must’ve been repaired by the aliens in the space-time pocket. but they were living in a speed that was faster than human senses.

you’d seriously have to buy her a drink when this date was over, you think to yourself as you struggle to zip up the back of the dress. you don’t think that you’ve heard jimin pull out that much utter bullshit in one breath before.

you have heard jaemin say something similar before though, so it made sense that jeno was neither fazed nor taking her seriously. not that anyone could take that seriously, anyway.

you’ve finally managed to contort your body in the right position to zip up the dress when you hear the door open and jeno saying something to jimin.

“i know i’m early. and i know she’s definitely not ready. but i found these earrings in my apartment and i figured that she’d want to wear these. if i know her at all, she’s wearing black and she always says that she loves to wear these earrings with her black outfits.”

you open the door just slightly for jimin to slip into your bedroom and deposit the earrings in your hands.

“how do i look?” you whisper, waiting for jimin’s reaction with bated breath.

jimin smiles at you and wraps you up in a tight hug, careful not to wrinkle the silky fabric of your dress.

“like a dream.”

that works for you and you take a deep breath before opening to door to see jeno. it’s just jeno, you remind yourself. and although it’s not just jeno because you don’t know if he’s ever been just jeno to you, the words serve as a good reminder.

he’s jeno. your jeno. not someone to be afraid of. someone who’s seen every side of you and still wants to see more sides.

you walk into the living room, where jeno is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone (tiktok, as you can tell by sounds of football highlights). there’s a bouquet of flowers, gardenias, laying across his lap and he’s clearly cleaned himself well. he’s wearing a black button down and rolled up the sleeves to reveal the tattoo that he’d gotten halfway through freshman year.

it’s a tattoo of jeno’s favorite quote from his favorite movie, chappie. you are made for good.

he introduced you to the movie early into your friendship, and had been thrilled when he realized that you liked as much as he did. in fact, the same quote that he had gotten tattooed on his forearm was the one that you had custom-made for your phone case. huh.

how long had you and jeno been doing things like this? since the very beginning, you balk.

“you look beautiful.” jeno’s voice is low, softer than you remember and your instinct is to counter him and say that you always look beautiful but he looks a little too sweet under the light of skylights for you to find it in yourself to do so.

“thank you.” you lean closer, eyes crinkling into a smile when you recognize the cologne that jeno was wearing. “is that the cologne i got you in sophomore year?”

jeno nods and smiles with you. “jaemin said that my normal one was too…fuckboy.”

“the sauvage one? hell yeah, it is. i think that most girls have a trauma response to that cologne at this point,” you say, and suddenly everything is so simple again. it’s your jeno, after all.

“it’s a good thing i listened to jaemin, then.”

you cock your head and you’re vaguely sure that he means more than just his cologne choices.

“yeah, i guess it was.”

+++

pretty much everything from there went completely wrong. for one, jeno’s car (which was infamous for coming up with the most random issues at the worst times) had decided to blare with just about every warning known to man almost as soon as the two of you sit in the car.

by the time that jaemin arrives to where the two of you had pulled over to take the car to the car dealership, jimin offering her car instead, the two of you were already about thirty minutes late to your reservation.

it had taken a lot of persuasion on jeno’s end to convince the restaurant to let the two of you sit and eat anyway, although you were past half an hour late for your reservation. as if that weren’t enough, the restaurant refused to accommodate for your dietary restrictions (even though they promised that they did on their website!), causing you to only be able to order an overpriced caesar salad with maybe three vegetables and too much vinegar.

then, as you were leaving, you found out that the valet had parked pretty much on the other side of the country. and it was pouring rain. to the extent that your phone had gone off about three times with warnings that there was a flood watch in seoul.

which meant that jeno had had to book it to run to get the car and pull it up to the front of the restaurant, where you were waiting, shivering even with jeno’s jacket around your shoulders. and due to the layout of the restaurant’s front, you were forced to run in the run in the rain anyway to dive into the passenger seat of jimin’s car.

and yet, even with all of this, you couldn’t help but laugh. the date was perfect. every time something occurred, jeno handled it with ease, allowing you to just turn off your brain and let him take care of everything for you. he would always turn to you with a silly smile and another story of how the two of you always seemed to find yourselves in the most unbelievable situations.

through all of this, you finally understand what you had been thinking that you wanted this whole time in your wait for the one. not someone who made sure that everything was perfect and that the date was always planned out to the t.

no, it was someone who made you feel like you were having a good time, even when everything was going to shit.

you look at jeno, recounting some story about how jaemin and him had snuck into a wedding once to eat food after days of cooking instant ramen in their dorm in freshman year, laughing so hard that you could barely hear the pelting rain outside. and seeing him smile like that, feeling yourself smile like that, just because you knew that he was smiling, your heart finally felt at ease.

definitely not a platonic type of love, you decide.

“hey, you okay?” jeno asks, eyes trained on the road in front of him as he navigates to your apartment. “you seem kind of checked out.”

you smile, shaking your head. “yeah. i’m all good. i was…i was just thinking about how stupid i’d been to think that i’d been looking everywhere but right in front of me for ‘the one’ when i didn’t even know what i wanted.”

“yeah? what do you want?” jeno says, his grip on the steering wheel growing tighter as he waits nervously for your answer. you look at him and jeno has to fight himself to keep looking at the road when he wants nothing but to look at you and commit this vision of you to memory.

your glinting earrings and your twinkling eyes under the seoul night sky. your drenched dress and jeno’s jacket across your lap. your wet hair that still somehow looked sexy as you flipped it over your shoulder. your soft smile and seeing you finally look at him the way that he’d been looking at you this whole time. he wants to capture it all within his mind and never forget the way you were looking at him now.

“i want someone to make me feel like that even the stupidest situations were easy to overcome when i’m with them,” you say softly.

jeno pauses at that, heart beating a little too fast to be good for him. a smile tugs at his lips, no matter how stoic he tries to look. “oh? does this mean you think this date was a success?”

“i think this date was an utter flop,” you say drily and jeno rolls his eyes at that. “but i think my date was pretty great. i’m not going to lie, i’m still a little hungry though.”

“i still can’t believe that they gave you a bowl of lettuce and charged like $30 for that,” jeno says, shaking his fist dramatically. “i’m going to write a scathing yelp review.”

“i mean i didn’t have to pay so that yelp review’s all yours,” you say before turning to him with a sly smirk. “aren’t you going to ask what i’m hungry for though?”

“what do you mean? what are you hungry for?” he asks, turning onto your street.

“ramen. wanna eat ramen and go?”

jeno has to use all of his self-will to keep from hydroplaning as he pulls into your apartment complex. “y/n. you want me to eat ramen and go?”

“yeah. i meant that literally though. you wanna eat ramen and then maybe ramen?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently at him as he parks jimin’s car in your designated parking spot.

“uh, isn’t jimin at your place?” jeno asks, feeling his heart skip a beat when you shake your head no.

“jaehyun’s apartment is like two complexes down so she just walked over. why? you don’t want to eat ramen with me?” you say, faking a sullen pout. jeno rushes to correct himself, resting his hand on your thigh gently.

“look, y/n, i think that you’re incredibly attractive and i really like you. but that’s - that’s my issue. i like you so much that i don’t want to make you feel like i was trying to get in your pants and then do something that you or i regret. and i know that you’re probably just saying that to get a rise out of me but hear me when i say that i want to take things slow. for your sake, not mine.

“i’ve been thinking about my feelings for so long and i’ve been thinking about how in love with you i am for longer than you might think. to me, sex would kinda just be the next step in taking our relationship to the next level. but i know you. you’ve really only been thinking about this about us for the past week or so. i don’t want to make you feel like you’re obligated to like me if we sleep together. i know that sex isn’t just sex for girls; or maybe it is but isn’t for you, no matter how much you tell me otherwise. and i honestly don’t know where i’m going with any of this but y/n, my feelings for you are true.

“i want to take things slow because if we take that next step, i want it to be when you’re sure. when you’re sure of how you feel for me. maybe i’m not the one for you, y/n. and as much it kills me to say that, it’s a very real possibility. you deserve someone who’d bring down the moon and gift it to you if that’s what you wanted. and i know that i would do that for you. but i need you to believe that too. wholeheartedly. i’ll wait for you for as long as you need. you’re my person, y/n. i’ve waited three years - granted, three very controversial years - for you. i’ll wait three more if that’s what you need.”

you’d said the ramen thing very jokingly, only half-serious about your proposition. but hearing jeno now, you’re happy that you had. you’re not sure that jeno would’ve told you how felt about you and just how deep his feelings ran for you if you hadn’t. he was right, of course. he knew you better than anyone else, after all.

so you kiss him on the cheek good night and open the passenger side door.

you’re about to close the door behind you, ready to bid him goodbye for the night when you lean down to say something to him.

“thank you for waiting for me, jeno.”

+++

turns out, romantic jeno is just like just friends jeno. mostly because you don’t think that you’ve ever truly been just friends. he’s quiet, teases you at any given moment, and listens to you recount even the most boring stories about work.

you went on a couple more dates with all of the formalities before slowly growing more casual with each other once more. neither of you had brought up the topic of physical touch after that night but lately, it was getting harder and harder to find places on jeno’s face to kiss besides his lips.

not to mention that you’d caught jeno’s lingering gaze on your lips (among other things) more and more often. so, just like everything else in your relationship, your first kiss was completely unexpected.

jeno had come over with chinese takeout, since the two of you (honestly, you had made the decision and jeno was just along for the ride) had decided to start the indiana jones franchise together.

you didn’t know what it was. the tousled hair? the way his arm was casually tugging you into to his side, covering your entire side as you cuddled closer into him? the way he was only a breath away from you? the look in eyes when he tears his eyes away from to look at you with the sweetest gaze?

everything. all of the above. you lean up to peck him swiftly on the lips.

jeno freezes, eyes going round as his entire face turns bright red. it was hard to think that just two months ago, jeno had been walking around with a girl on either side of him at a frat party, the promise of a good night hidden in his smile when he looks like a deer caught in headlights at the slightest sign of physical touch.

“did - did you just kiss me?” he stutters, and you shrug playfully, looking back the movie in front of you. he shifts you so that you’re facing him, unable to look away as he turns to face you.

“i thought we’re taking it slow?” he asks and you smile coyly.

“a month and a half of dating wasn’t enough to convince you that i actually like you the way that you like me, jeno?”

that’s all jeno needs to hear because no sooner do you say this does jeno dip his head to press his lips to yours, gentle and undemanding. he’s soft and careful, almost as if he were afraid that you were going to disappear if he chased after you too hard.

but you’d been waiting long enough and this was jeno so you pull away from him, a horde of butterflies settling in your stomach when he chases after your lips, eyes still closed, as if he couldn’t bear to part from them.

“jeno, i’m going to do something and you have got to tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you whisper against his lips softly and jeno nods, opening his eyes so that you can see the look of absolute love and trust in them.

you get up and hook your leg over both of his so that you were effectively sitting on his lap, poised dangerously so that you could part from him at the slightest sign of discomfort. it never comes, though because as soon as you do this, jeno pulls you in closer so that his chest was pressed flush against yours.

“are you sure?” he says, confirming for the last time as you see the last strings of his resolve snap.

“god, jeno, i love you. now please just kiss me.”

his lips are pressed against yours the second the words leave your mouth, a little rougher and more insistent than last time. his arms are wrapped around your back and waist, eyes closed and you lose yourself in the feeling of being so close to him.

needless to say, that night had been a long night.

+++

“i look like an idiot,” your boyfriend complains, checking himself out in the mirror of your vanity anyway. you giggle, pressing a kiss to his temple so that you don’t mess up his make-up, carefully dodging the stray glare that he offers you.

“you look beautiful, jeno. and besides, this is for a good cause, remember?” you remind him as you make sure that your costume looks good as well.

“i don’t remember what me dressing up as a spandex wearing animated character has to do with changing the world, but alright,” jeno grumbles, shifting uncomfortably as his ‘uniform’ seems to cling to all the wrong places.

“you say that now but you and i both know that the moment you see those kids at the hospital, you’re a sucker. tell me you aren’t going to practice your mr. incredible in the car,” you say cheekily, and jeno is unable to refute that. ever since you and him have been dating, you have often dragged him to events such as these.

at first, they were rather simple things, almost as if you were testing the waters with jeno. for example, when the two of you went on a date to a zoo in the beginning of your relationship, you casually mentioned that many zoos that didn’t treat their animals with love and respect.

then, soon after, you asked him to sign a ‘take down unethical zoo practices!’ petition. and then from there, jeno found himself at a protest to rally for the rights of beluga whales.

not that jeno had anything against whales (he actually came to be quite passionate about the mistreatment of them the more he went to these events), but the fact that you took the world’s issues to be your issues was simultaneously your biggest character flaw and strength.

and he loved you all the more for it.

“you know who you are?” jeno says, swiveling around in the chair to mean mug you. “you’re woo young woo from that one kdrama. and i’m that poor unsuspecting boyfriend who wants to spend time with his girlfriend but ends up at a whale protest anyway. that’s what cute girls like you and her do; you get our attention, make us fall in love, and then ba-bam! you use us as a bodyguard and backpack carrier at protests and rallies!”

you roll your eyes, leaning down so that you were now eye level with jeno, the both of you lovingly aware that the banter between the two of you was not a symbol of actual annoyance but rather, mutual appreciation. you, for having so much empathy. jeno, for being so patient.

your heart swells when jeno looks at you with such loving eyes, trust and admiration swimming behind his façade of annoyance. you lean forward, pressing your lips to his, involuntarily smiling when you feel jeno’s lips curve upwards as well.

he hums softly, pulling you close so that you’re practically sitting on his lap. gentle and strong. a little callous, but only so that the butterflies in your stomach seem to be rebelling against the confines of your stomach, as if they too want to be showered in the love of your kindhearted and wonderful boyfriend.

you want to melt into his embrace, as you usually do whenever you’re near jeno, but your phone buzzes and you sigh, pulling away from your boyfriend reluctantly.

“that’s jaemin. he’s asking, and i quote, ‘what the fuck are you guys doing i’ll whoop your ass if you don’t come soon i hate this fucking gru costume and the kids keep asking where you are’. you think we should get going maybe?” you say, raising your eyebrows at the series (of rather graphic) of emojis that depict you and jeno conveniently being pushed off a cliff.

jeno snorts at his best friend’s antics, his touch lingering on your waist as he leaves to go start the car. he waits for you to finish responding (with a threatening message of your own) before extending his arm without even looking, waiting for the comforting weight of you clinging to his arm as the two of you leave your shared home, walking into the buttery evening.

it truly couldn’t get much better than this.

#jnnul #nct fic #jeno x reader #nct dream fic #nct dream #jeno imagines #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #jeno fluff #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream x reader

927 notes · View notes

highvern · 11 months ago

Text

Teach Me VI

Final

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au

Warnings: angst, pining, crying, alcohol consumption, jealous pouty DK, meddling Seungkwan and Hoshi, eventual smut, dry humping, making out, face fucking, munch DK as always, unprotected sex, cream pie, they're simps for each and its disgusting!, DK wearing a chain that dangles in readers face bc im sick and twisted, kinda choking but not really?

Length: ~7.4k

Note: SURPRISE!! ITS HERE!!!! this series started in OCTOBER which is wild to think about. two months of these two plaguing my day to day and so many amazing readers interacting with the story honestly makes a little emotional for it to end. this is the first series i've ever done and now it's over so soon but there are bigger and better things on the horizon! (goes and cries in the corner) If you notice any errors or typos pls ignore.

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

read more here

[MONDAY 11:23 AM]

YOU: Home

Mr. Boo: Thank you! Love you!

Mr. Boo: We can have a bff night when I get back

[MONDAY 4:48 PM]

DOKYEOM: Hope you got home safe

DOKYEOM: I’m sorry, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.

DOKYEOM: Can we talk this week?

Dokyeom doesn’t leave his room the rest of the weekend. A combination of fear of Seungkwan beating the crap out of him and absolute heartbreak keep him wrapped in the covers. Not even Soonyoung can elicit more than a half-hearted grunt when checking if his roommate is still alive.

The drive back to campus is no different. Staring longingly out the window, Dokyeom stares at his unanswered messages. When he goes to your Instagram he finds your account missing with the sinking realization you blocked him.

Seventy two of the best and subsequent worse hours of his life crumbled your fragile relationship. He thought you returned his feelings.

After Soonyoung blabled a drunken confession on Dokyeom’s behalf, he worried you’d drive off in the night; swiftly rejecting him. But you wrapped your arms around him and held him as you slept. Kissed him awake in the early morning sun, nothing but a soft smile and presses of lips across his face. It was better than anything Dokyeom hoped for. He thought it meant you liked him back even if you didn’t say it yet.

But then you interrogated him and the hot tub and it all came crashing down. You were trying to let him down easy, buttering him up before giving him a reality check. It’d hurt of course. The tsunami of shame at thinking he had a chance and then adding insult to injury when you called him childish.

Dokyeom knows he was wrong for his reaction but embarrassment sent him spiraling and he needed to get as far away from you as possible.

And now that he’d succeed, he doesn't think he can find a way back.

—

Monday and Tuesday are spent suffocating under a mound of blankets, munching on a carton of ice cream, and crying till your head hurts and your throat is sore. The string of texts from Dokyeom remains thoroughly ignored; but each buzz of your phone raises your heart rate to unhealthy levels until you read the notification from some store offering a discount.

You ignore the string of messages from Dokyeom, tempted more and more to block him as they come through; but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Just like you can’t bring yourself to delete the pictures of you two together peppered throughout your camera roll, or the most recent video that does nothing but make you sick to your stomach.

Tuesday night your roommate returns to campus, cheery and well rested from a weekend with her boyfriend back home. You hide from her friendly questions about your weekend in the bathroom, shrouded in steam and bubbles.

Looking at yourself in the mirror after you're sufficiently pruned and chilled from freeze drops, you notice the traces of Dokyeom still on your skin.

A tiny maroon bruise is fading to a sick green right under your collar bone. Prodding it with the tip of your finger, you wince at the tenderness of the flesh.

You hate it.

Hate how somehow your eyes are thick with a gloss of tears at the sight of a hickey, they way you can’t catch your breath when you realize the shirt you brought in with you is another one of his you lifted over the months.

Dokyeom hadn’t been your boyfriend. You two hadn’t even been casually dating. Over and over again you remind yourself you were just friends who had sex, and you shouldn’t be this torn up over a guy. Dokyeom didn’t like you and that wasn’t something to hold against him.

But the facts do nothing to stop the knot permanently lodged in your throat.

—

The first time you see Dokyeom post-not-breakup, he’s sitting in one of the rolling chairs at the mahogany table you two claimed for your usual study sessions.

Blood frozen, heart clenching unbearably, you turn and walk right back out the revolving glass doors, hoping he didn’t see you.

But the echo of quick footsteps behind you say otherwise.

“Hey! Y/N!”

Faltering for a moment, you keep walking as if you hadn’t heard anything. And because the universe has a sick sense of humor, the crossing light turns red just as you approach, leaving you stranded with the one person you didn’t want to see.

You whip around at tap against your arm with such ferocity you nearly stumble.

Dokyeom has the gall to smile at you sheepishly before opening his mouth, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You weren’t in lab yesterday.”

“Nope.” You respond monotonously, glancing behind you at the still red crossing light.

“Did you need notes or—”

“No, I got them already.”

“Oh, well—”

The light turns green, allowing you to race across the road before Dokyeom can finish his thought. The heat of his gaze doesn't leave your back until you turn down the next road leading you home.

—

Your second interaction with Dokyeom is in the same sterile lab your friendship started. You slip inside just before class starts, narrowly avoiding getting locked out by your grumpy instructor.

Sliding into an open seat near the door, you stare straight ahead as he delves into the topic for this afternoon, pointedly ignoring the pair of eyes watching you from the familiar station at the back of the room.

“Finals are almost upon us people so I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that the lab is not open after hours. Meaning, you should prioritize your time in this room. Now let’s get started.”

The guy you’ve been partnered with is nice enough, willing to follow your lead as you read off the necessary equipment. He even manages to crack a few jokes, though not funny you’re thankful for the distraction.

You learn his name is San, he’s an underclassman and he doesn’t understand anything about the class despite attending every lecture and office hour available.

When he leans over to copy the results you’ve scratched into your notebook, you hear a crack and shatter behind you. A dozen heads twist towards the source of commotion, finding a red faced Dokyeom staring at you.

“Mr. Lee! May I remind you our lab equipment isn’t cheap!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, shuffling towards the broom hanging on the wall.

You focus on ignoring him the rest of class, which is surprisingly easy with your new partner pestering you with inane questions.

A lull hits, waiting for the digital scale to spit out a final reading. You managed to pull well ahead of schedule, calling over your instructor to verify your results before collecting your things.

“So,” San starts, stuffing his own notebook in his bag. “Would you be down to tutor me sometime?”

“Oh, I uh—”

“No pressure! I just saw some of the old quizzes in your folder and thought maybe you could help me out.”

“Sure,” you smile, taking his phone to enter his number.

Voices from the different stations echo off the blank walls, drowning your conversation out.

“Awesome! My boyfriend took this class last year but did about as well as I’m doing.”

Returning his phone back, you start walking to the door. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, he told me to take geology instead but I didn’t listen.” He laughs, stepping forward to hold the heavy wooden door open for you to pass.

You miss the sound of a second beaker breaking as you walk down the hall with your new friend.

—

“Dude, you have got to calm down.” Soonyoung pleads, head hanging off the couch as his legs extend into the air. He swears the increased blood flow makes him smarter.

Dokyeom nearly wears a rut into the carpet from his pacing across the length of their tiny living room. He’s been in a mood since that afternoon, watching his not-girlfriend-possibly-no-longer-friend giggle with some dude that wasn’t him. And then give her number to said dude. In front of him. All while she completely ignored his existence.

“He probably just asked her to study together.”

Jealousy isn’t Dokyeom’s thing. Sure he may whine and pout if he isn’t getting enough attention, but he’s never got the blood boil urge scream like he has right now. And about a girl that won’t even look at him.

Tangling both fists in his hair, Dokyeom tries to calm down. Soonyoung was probably right. You’re a genius at chemistry, you’re slated to officially tutor through the library next semester pending final grades, and the guy Dokyeom swears he’s never seen in class most likely asked you for help. It’s not his place to be jealous.

“Hate to be that guy but you need to get a grip”

It's easier said than done. There's four more weeks of class plus a four hour final and your Seungkwan’s friend. You’re not going to disappear after the semester ends and Dokyeom’s feelings surely aren’t going anywhere given he’s got a constant reminder that you’re the woman he lost his virginity to.

If he knew inviting you to that party at the beginning of the semester would end up like this, he'd have sat somewhere else the first day of lab.

Soonyoung chokes on his own saliva when Dokyeom collapses on the floor with a reluctant, “You’re right.”

“I am?” Eyes bugging so hard they nearly pop from his head.

“I just have to move on.”

They both silently agree to pretend Dokyeom is capable of that.

—

San and his boyfriend, Jay, turn out to be horrible study partners. You are hardly able to focus from the way your abs hurt from laughter; Jay has a talent for self-deprecating humor.

“You didn’t!” You gasp, ignoring the daggers being glared into you back by other library goers.

Typically you’d respect the needs of others, but they chose to sit on the first floor; if they needed real quiet they should have sat upstairs where it’s enforced by a graduate librarian with nothing better to do.

Jay nods solemnly, “I threw up on him during our first date. But he,” flinging an accusatory finger at his boyfriend, “insisted we go to some weird food truck so it’s his own fault.”

“You said you liked to try new things!” San defends.

“Not food poisoning!”

Descending into giggles, you feel sorry Seungkwan is missing out on two people he’d get along with. But he canceled at the last minute, leaving you at the large oak table all by your lonesome until you’d run into your classmate, looking for a seat.

From the corner of your eye, you see a familiar someone approaching. White blonde hair and trademark grin, Soonyoung stops at the edge of the table.

“Hey, Y/N” he grins.

Sending him a tightlipped smile you return the greeting.

Soonyoung introduces himself to your tablemates, both just as friendly as he. Thick palpable tension descends into the warm atmosphere and you’re about to rise and get another coffee just to escape it when Soonyoung turns back to you.

“Could I take a look at your results from the last lab? We didn’t get to finish in time.”

The unspoken half of ‘we’ is Dokyeom.

You hate the flare of curiosity flashing in your head. When you partnered with Dokyeom you always finished on time if not early, even with his joking.

“Ugh, sure.” You agree, digging into your bag for your notebook.

Not waiting for an invitation, Soonyoung slides into the chair next to you, pulling out his own notebook to copy down your answers quickly. But even after collecting the necessary info, he lingers.

“So you’re in lab with us too, right?” He asks San.

“Yeah, but I’m probably taking it again next year even with Y/N’s help.” San smiles.

“And you?” Soonyoung asks Jay.

“No, I took it last year.”

“Glad to see someone can make it out alive! Do you guys mind if I hang out until my friend arrives?”

The friend is definitely Dokyeom but you don’t want to look like a bitch in front of your new acquaintances nor have to explain the mess of your love life to either of them.

Soonyoung’s self satisfied grin when you flash a tight lipped smile and nod nearly tempts you into strangling him. Why is he choosing to torture you? It’s Dokyeom’s fault no matter how you look at the situation. He tricked you; had you falling for the saccharine persona and ambiguous confessions. Dokyeom rejected you at the cabin for everyone to see, humiliated you, and then had the nerve to act upset when you wouldn’t speak to him.

You try to focus on the worksheet in front of you, a proactive effort to prepare for the final exam still far away. Drowning in extra credit had been an exhaustive effort to get your mind off of your issues but Soonyoung had to ruin it. And now he’s laughing with San and Jay like best friends and it’s all too much.

Shooting up from your seat, they all stop to stare as shaky hands pack up your materials. “Sorry, I forgot I had a thing. Somewhere else. Bye!”

Halfway to the door before anyone thinks to question your eagerness to leave, you walk right into another person.

“Shit sorry!” The faceless stranger exclaims as your books and papers go flying.

“No, I should have been watching wher–”

And when you look up, Dokyeom is staring back.

“Sorry, let me help you.”

“It's fine!” You snap, scrambling to shove everything into your bag.

You will not cry in the library: not over Dokyeom, not in front of Dokyeom. But once the concrete steps out front greet you the first tear falls and they don’t stop until you fall asleep curled up in your bed.

—

Later that week, in the sanctuary of your dorm, you indulge in contraband alcohol and the hype of your best friend.

“You need to just rip the bandaid off.” Seungkwan announces, arms thrown wide to punctuate his point.

“And how do I do that? I still have class with him!”

“Okay but how much of his stuff is still here?”

“Only like a few things.” you shrug, glancing around the room.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan asks, throwing himself from his perch on your bed, crossing to the basket full of laundry in front of your closet. “Because this is a hoodie from his high school, this is the shirt I got him for his birthday a few years ago,” he shuffles around the collection of socks and pants to pull more of Dokyeom’s belongings out. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t wear boxers.”

Seungkwan launched the wad of clothing your way, disappearing into the bathroom in search of more evidence of your ex-friend with benefits.

“You let him keep a toothbrush here?” Seungkwan yells, head popping out with the neon green piece of plastic dangling between his fingers.

It's tossed into the growing pile at the foot of your bed, your rage-fueled focus on the smattering of objects on your desk.

More cheap wine and outrageous laughter has Seungkwan encouraging you to race across campus and return everything as soon as possible.

Red faced, he steadies you by your arms, “Listen, the sooner you get rid of this stuff the better. You’re like subconsciously holding on to him or whatever.”

Mooney eyed, you nod at your friend’s wisdom, scrambling for a bag.

The tote of Dokyeom’s belongings you’ve accumulated over the months sits heavy on your shoulders; bulging with the assortment of clothes, a spare phone charger, and a book that was severely overdue at the library you’d found under your bed.

Each click of your shoe against the tile floor echoes in the eerie silence as you walk down the hall towards the door of his apartment. The sterile lighting and gray walls are familiar yet alien under the new circumstances you're visiting.

You won’t be greeted with the smile you’ve grown to miss or the puppy-like excitement that once made you feel special. Both things of the past you hope to forget. No one had your heart fluttering or twisting in knots the way Dokyeom had. But those happy memories are just memories. And the sooner you cut him out, the sooner you can forget them.

Your fiery determination to get over him ignited in the walls of your bedroom had begun to smolder as the chilly wind and movement sobered you up.

A large part of you hopes it’ll be Soonyoung answering the door, Dokyeom absent for whatever convenient reason as you dumped his belongings and walked away for the last time. Worse case scenario, neither are home and you're left feeling like an idiot, lugging the ridiculously heavy bag back across campus in the freezing wind and rain.

Worse-er case scenario, Dokyeom is home.

The door to the boys’ apartment is like all the others, but the hot pink “please don’t do coke in our bathroom” doormat stands out. A gift from Jeonghan, if you remember correctly.

A quick rap of knocks announces your presence before you can lose your nerve, stepping back as you wait for it to crack open.

As luck would have it, Dokyeom answers the door.

“Um–” he starts, clearly confused by what he’s seeing.

Shoulders square, back pin straight, you thrust the bag at him. “Here’s your stuff.”

“Oh.” Dokyeom exclaims, still confused, but cradling the tote into his stomach.

“Well, bye.” You turn to leave but stop when he calls you back.

“I can grab your stuff real quick. Since you’re already here.”

It is a horrible idea. Alone with Dokyeom, in his apartment, where the only person to hold you accountable is yourself. But you can be done with this entire mess once you have the hodge podge of items you’ve no doubt accumulated here.

Nodding once, you follow as Dokyeom turns to head towards his bedroom.

Suffocating tension, thick as tar, fills the air. Dokyeom doesn't attempt to replace it with ill timed jokes as he digs in the black dresser in the corner of his room. The bottom left drawer had been long cleaned out of his own clothes, making room for the odds and ends left behind following your rendezvous.

A sizable pile of clothes lands on his unmade bed, followed by some toiletries you forgot at the cabin in your haste to flee.

Your ears are ringing from the quiet at this point, unable to look at Dokyeom swapping his belongings from the canvas tote with your own. Focusing on your phone, you scroll mindlessly, as Dokyeom works slowly to prolong the torture. He unfolds and refolds all the shirts, lost pairs of pants and shorts, before cramming them into the bag. If you took a second to look at him, you’d see longing glances in your direction with each item he packs away. But you don’t chance it until he approaches you when he’s finished.

“Here,” he says, eyes downcast as he hands you back the full bag.

Lifting it from his hands, you move back to the living room, bee lining for the front door and the sobering cold air outside.

“Wait.”

The smooth metal doorknob is cold against the wrinkles of your palm. All you need to do is twist and it's over. Unlatch the lock, step outside and your relationship with Dokyeom, whatever it may have been, is done. No more crying, no more wondering. Only four more classes and you can leave the mess of the past semester behind you forever.

But you can’t do it. The smallest part of your heart, buried under the weight of anger and sadness, pleads for you to stay. To give Dokyeom one last chance.

You wait for him to say something else, not moving a muscle as you take shallow breaths. Body tense in preparation, you’re afraid you might shake out of your skin. Being alone with Dokyeom was a stupid idea.

Realizing you're not going to leave, you hear him shuffle closer.

You jump when he speaks again, voice right over your shoulder. “Can we please talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” You frown.

At his responding silence, you chance a glance over your shoulder, met with sad brown eyes.

“I just—,” he shakes his head, chin tipping towards the floor to examine his socks.

Prompting him again, “What do you want, Dokyeom?”

“You asked me if I liked you… and I do.”

You squash the seed of hope rooting in your chest, afraid that if he tramples it again you’ll never recover. Turning to face him, you cross your arms pensively. His confession should send your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. But why does he sound so sad about it?

Dokyeom scrubs a hand down his face in frustration. “I should have told you sooner but I— I kept waiting for the right time and then that night happened and I thought I messed everything up. But then we started fooling around so I thought ‘there’s no way she likes me.’ You know?

From where you’re standing, Dokyeom is exactly the kind of guy anyone would go for. Warm as a ray of sunshine, contagious laughter, thoughtful. Excited by life, and brimming with affection for anyone lucky enough to be considered his friend.

It’s a shame he can’t see himself the way you see him.

“I know all you wanted was to hook up and I was fine with that until you came to the cabin. Soonyoung had to run his mouth, and I thought you were trying to let me down easy in the hot tub so I got embarrassed.”

Biting your lip to stop the rebuttal simmering on the tip of your tongue, you feel the scowl melt off your face, morphing into a questioning gaze.

“You’re like, the coolest person I know. You’re funny and you’re smart and pretty, god you’re so pretty.” he breaths, finally looking at you. “And I feel like every time I get to see you I can’t breathe. And us hooking up made it worse because I’ve liked you since the first day of class when you sat down next to me and smiled at me. I thought I was gonna throw up.” Dokyeom raises his hands in defense as you scoff, quickly clarifying, “In a good way! You just— you make me nervous and stupid and now you hate me.”

He finishes the last part in a whisper, face vulnerable, looking at you helplessly.

“I don’t hate you.” You warble, launching yourself into his arms, tangling your limbs around him to squeeze as close as possible. It’s ungraceful, your head knocking into his chin, his feet scrambling to balance the unexpected shift of weight. But Dokyeom barely hesitates before pulling you into his chest, face buried in your neck while trying to force you into his skin by his arms around your waist.

Two puzzle pieces, carved to fit perfectly together.

“You don’t?”

Squeezing him tighter, you calm in the thud of his heart and the pine scent of his cologne. You both simply bask in the presence of one another. At a week and a half, this is the longest you’ve gone without the other since you started your arrangement.

Dokyeom presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, sweet as sugar. His lips ghost against your hairline as he starts to speak again. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”

“I shouldn’t have called you childish.” You apologize, tipping your head back to meet his gaze.

“I mean you were right. I was being a dick.”

“But I wasn’t in any shape to call you out when I was doing the same thing.”

“The same…” Dokyeom echoes, confused.

“If we weren’t so dumb we could have been dating for weeks by now.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” You smile.

“We really are dumb.”

Pure unadulterated joy takes flight on his face. Dokyeom cups your face in his hands, forehead meeting your own as you smile at him, his own dazzling in return.

“Yeah, but at least we have each other.”

The bark of awkward laughter and shaky words are unstoppable as you cower in his arms.

“So you’re okay with me calling you my girlfriend?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” You sigh, biting your lip at the idea.

“Even my shmoopie poopie?”

Nose scrunching as you laugh at his ridiculousness, you shake your head vigorously in objection. “You can call me whatever you want besides that.”

“Baby cakes?” He asks, peppering a kiss on your cheek.

“No!”

“Honeybuns?”

Another kiss on the tip of your nose.

“No.”

“What about–”

A firm press to his mouth silences Dokyeom as you hum.

—

Soonyoung returns to his apartment after another failed date, eager to shoot the shit with his roommate over a few beers and some video games. But when he opens the door to his home, he finds a trail of clothes flung haphazardly across the furniture, leading straight to said roommate's room.

No fucking way. Soonyoung thinks.

Then he hears a thud from behind the door, followed by a familiar laugh he hasn’t heard in the apartment in well over two weeks.

No FUCKING way! He huffs, reaching for his phone.

—

Down the street, Seungkwan smirks as the expected ding of a new Venmo notification shrills through the silence of your dorm:

“Kwon Soonyoung paid you $50.00. – HOW DID YOU KNOW? – Your Venmo balance is now $135.00.”

Epilogue:

Finals season rushes forward rapidly. Two days before you’re set to fly back home for winter break, Chem grades are released.

Another pair of matching As to be celebrated in typical fashion but this time you’re Dokyeom’s girlfriend and he’s sweating like it’s his first time all over again. The night you both confessed had been you last night together. Dokyeom insisted you take things slow, his fear of messing up again forcing him to take caution.

It's sweet. How he wants to take you out, wine and dine you as if a certain video didn’t still exist on both your phones. And you’d enjoyed the full experience too; walks around campus with interlaced fingers, shy glances in class, and girlish giggles as he offered his jacket on a cold night. The innocent good night kisses dropped on your lips in front of your door that have Dokyeom insisting “just one more” for an hour before he finally lets you slip inside your room.

It’d been everything you dreamed of and more.

But you're both tired of make outs that lead nowhere. Of sitting in Dokyeom’s lap at parties and not letting your hands wonder like you’re both dying too. Waking up in his bed and pretending you don’t feel him nudging the curve of your ass as before he hides in the bathroom to take care of his boner; leaving you to stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to follow him into the shower and lend a helping hand.

Tonight, you’ve reached the boiling point and it’s spilling over.

“‘s okay?” He asks into the curve of your neck, palms gliding up your stomach underneath the soft cream sweater you’d worn to dinner.

Humming as your head lulls against the interior of his front door, the warmth of his mouth and hands making your brain fuzzy. Tonight, everything feels like more. Your nipples peak at the smallest brush of his tongue, back bowing under the swipes of his thumb against your ribs; even when he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your intertwined fingers on the walk to his apartment ripped the air from your lungs.

Dokyeom feels the nerves of that first night, but you’re acting like the desperate virgin he’d been. Drooling to touch and be touched. For your boyfriend to string you out one last time before you both return home for a few weeks of winter break only to pick right back up in the new year.

Snaking a hand down his front, you palm the half hard length with a firm pressure that pulls his hips forward like a magnet. A strained grunts sings in your ear as Dokyeom rocks firmly in your grip, pressing you into the wall under his torturous grind.

Turning to nudge your nose into his cheek softly, hot kisses dropping across his jaw as you bid him to take off his pants; pushing them down clumsily. You don’t bother with the brass button or rough zipper, blinded by desperation and simply clawing the stiff material downwards in an effort to get beneath.

You manage to trickle to your knees, slipping through Dokyeom’s hold like water. The hard floor biting into your skin as you kneel before him to mouth at the thin fabric of his boxer. Dokyeom’s elbows land against the wall, caging you in as he watches from above; entranced by the shallow dip of your lips over the covered head of his cock and the lash of your tongue where you taste him through the fabric.

Tonight isn’t the night for teasing, so you have his boxers landing atop his jeans around his ankles in a blink. Tongue following the vein bulging on the underside of his cock as your hand returns to allow your thumb to dig into his slit.

Dokyeom whimpers a pathetic “fuck,” as you play with him, eagerly lapping up his shaft before sucking him into your mouth; hand dropping to cup his balls, the other rest on his stomach to hold his own shirt out of the way.

You missed how responsive he is to your touch, melting in the palm of your hand as he chases the warmth of your mouth with his hips. Anyone who walks by the door would undoubtedly hear what’s happening on the other side, the choked whimpers from you and guttural moans from Dokyeom combining into a lewd symphony.

Head hitting the wall behind you with a dull thud, you let Dokyeom take over; humming as each press forward leaves the taste of his cock on your tongue. There’s something degrading in letting him fuck your mouth like this, sandwiched between his hips and the wall as he uses you to get off.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, tongue sticking out to bid him back but his slender fingers cupping your chin distract you straight into his lips.

Pulling you to your feet, Dokyeom dips his tongue between your lips as he leads you blindly to the couch. His mouth is nothing but taking; stealing your breath away, your sanity. Things you’d happily let him have if it meant he wouldn’t stop. But Dokyeom was a giver too. A slide of his tongue lit a fire under your skin, fanning the desperation bordering on depravity.

“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding your aching cunt against his thigh.

Dokyeom responds by pressing into you harder, teeth tearing into your bottom lip as his cock drools against your thigh, staining your jeans.

You're so turned on it hurts, pussy painfully empty and panties drenched from heavy petting. If Dokyeom doesn’t do something soon, you have half a mind to get yourself off without him.

Dokyeom is trying, fighting to not to blow his load on your leg as you whine and arch beneath him. For him. But when you manage to close your fist around his length, giving a firm tug with the twist around the head you know he goes crazy for, it’s all over. Dokyeom’s core tightens as he spills on your sweater, streaks of his cum ruining the fabric as he pants into your mouth. Your tight grip doesn’t falter as you work him through it, teeth bruising his jaw as he paints you with his seed.

When Dokyeom gains sentience again, he winces in shame.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t— I wouldn’t,” he tries to apologize, but stops when you part your lips to lap at your stained fingers; eyes trained on the pink of your tongue dipping out to swipe against the tips for taste.

Mouth wide as he stares, Dokyeom thinks he might come again without any help as you suck your fingers. His own dip into the pool of cum dimpling across your stomach, lifting to your mouth to replace yours. Dokyeom groans as your eyes never leave his, heated and heavy lidded as lick them clean and swallow his cum.

Dropping his hand to the back of your neck, he angles your head so his tongue can delve into your mouth. It’s messy and disgusting but you like it and that’s all Dokyeom cares about as he works to free you both of your clothes. He’s stark naked easily, shirt gone over the back of the couch in no time. But your clothes require more focus than either of you are capable of when Dokyeom is on top of you.

His feet hit the ground before he rises to stand, dragging you up to roughly undress you. You don’t seem to mind if the way you fist your jeans down is an inclination. Outer layers gone, Dokyeom finally gets a peek at the early Christmas present you’d been hoping to surprise him with.

Lacy maroon panties and a match bra hug your figure, accentuating your shape in the most mouthwater ways. Eyebrows raised to his hairline, Dokyeom heaves at the masterpiece you present him with.

Drops of your flesh peek through the holes in the lace, teasing him with what’s underneath. The high cut sides of your thong dig into your hips, making your legs look impossibly long and highlighting the sway of your thighs. Straining to pull his eyes up further, Dokyeom finds the bottom hem of your bra. Tongue rolling out of his mouth as the cups push your breasts up and together, teasing Dokyeom with ideas of fucking his cock between them as you lick at the tip.

You look like a goddess and Dokyeom is happy to get on his knees to worship every inch.

Dokyeom catches you smirking at his obvious reaction when he finally looks at your face. Stepping into his space, your fingers find purchase in the short hairs at the base of his head. A cold sweat breaks on his brow as you smile like the cat who got the canary.

“Do you like my outfit, Kyeomie?” You ask, tone deceptively sweet.

If he was capable of any thought beyond cataloging the swaths of naked skin and curves, maybe he’d answer more eloquently than grunting like a caveman.

“I picked it for you.”

Dokyeom lets his hands find your hips, squeezing the plush flesh in his palms as you continue to toy with him. His fingers pluck the thin elastic while his mind wanders down the extensive list of things he’s dying to do to you.

“Do you wanna see the whole thing?”

“There’s more?”

Falling to the floor, you dig into the pocket of your jeans for whatever the last piece of your outfit, if you could call it that. Rising again you present him with a thin piece of ribbon and a silver chain, both causing Dokyeom’s face to twist in confusion.

You prompt him to take the scarlet ribbon, a perfect match to the set you’ve donned, allowing Dokyeom to spot the clasp at the ends and the small silver charm dangling in the middle.

A sun is embossed on the front of the circular piece of silver. And engraved on the back is his name.

Having his name around your throat while he fucked you isn’t a kink he knew existed. But now Dokyeom is pretty sure he’ll be haunted by the idea for the rest of his life. The silver chain still in your hands has a similar charm but with a moon. Dokyeom’s vision goes fuzzy and his brain clouds at the assumption your name is on the back to match.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask innocently, turn around so Dokyeom can slip what he can only describe as a mock collar around your neck.

Dokyeom latches the clasp with shaky hands, the strip of silk pulled taunt around your neck with each breath. When you face him once again, the charm sits in the hollow of your throat, silver winking at him seductively.

The icy metal of the chain bites into his skin erotically as you raise to clasp it around his neck. Your nose nudges against his jaw, a ghosting open mouth kiss landing on his jugular as the charm teases the muscles of his chest where it dangles.

You land on the couch with a squeak, taken aback by Dokyeom shredding the delicate fabric of your panties with clumsy hands as he struggles to get them off you. Bullying his way between your legs, he apologizes with a heavenly strip of his tongue through your slit.

He eats you like a man starved, nails leaving crescents in the tops of your thighs as he spreads you so wide the muscles in your hips scream in objection. Dokyeom’s tongue dips into your hole, collecting your essence on his tongue before spitting it back on your clit and digging in. The swollen nub slips against the flat of his wet muscle, and when his lips gently close around it he sucks just the way you taught him to you he’s rewarded with a wanton sob.

Whines fly from between your lips at the torturous pleasure, thrashing as Dokyeom uses all his strength to pin you and place. Spots dance along your vision, expanding as two fingers push past your folds to stretch you out. Dokyeom knows your pussy like the back of his hand and he stuffs you just right with his fingers.

All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hold on tightly as you fly over the edge. Racing forward under the heat of Dokyeom’s mouth and harsh thrusts of his fingers till you weep pitifully. You’re floating through space under his attention; mouth open over silent begs not to stop, eyes clenched shut. Every beat of your frantic heart carries satisfaction through tense muscles till you are pliant and boneless.

“Too much,” you whimper, thighs forcing close around his head.

Dokyeom takes it in stride. The combination of your essence and his saliva soaking chin, leaving a damp trail across your body as he kisses his way to your mouth.

His thumb finds the ribbon taunt around your throat, focusing on the piece of metal resting against your skin as you taste yourself on his tongue.

Panting into his mouth, you mewl something vaguely sounding like “want you.”

Luckily, Dokyeom is more than happy to give you whatever you want.

Nodding like a bobble head, he pulls you down into his lap as he kneels on the floor. The head of his cock proddes against your entrance, slipping in just enough for you to take the rest with ease.

The stretch is nothing short of bliss; so deep you can taste him in the back of your throat. Dokyeom fills you perfectly, the small nip of pain from not taking him in the past month only multiplying the satisfaction you feel at finally having him inside you again.

With herculean effort, you rise to allow only a few inches to exit before dropping back down. Hands searching for leverage, you balance on the cushions behind you as you grind into his lap.

Dokyeom doesn’t know where to look, overwhelmed by his options; your face twisted around gasping breaths; or your chest, still clad in your bra, tits bouncing with each movement; or where his cock disappears inside you.

But the silver heart around your throat seems to snag his focus easily.

Dokyeom isn’t possessive but the way it not so subtly declares you as his makes his cock throb. He’s the only one that gets to have you like this, and you him. The twin pendants remind him you’re his girlfriend and everything beyond slips away as he watches it jerk around with every movement.

Before long, your legs burn from effort, ruining your already unstable motions into nothing more than stuttered ruts. Dokyeom’s hands palming your ass assist in lifting you to the couch, limbs awkwardly sprawled off the edges but he doesn’t slow while your nails scratch deep lines into his shoulders.

“Oh, don’t stop! Fuck, please don’t stop.” You beg, head thrown back into the cushions.

Stopping sounds like the worst idea he’s ever heard. Dokyeom needs this. Gloved snuggly in your heat after so long is the only cure for the constant plague of memories of pestering him day and night. He knows they won’t go away but at least he won’t feel like ripping his skin off every time you're within a fifteen foot radius.

The wet clap of your bodies grows to a crescendo, your orgasm on the horizon and tightening your muscles into a deathgrip on his length. Spots float in Dokyeom’s vision at the squeeze and he drops his mouth to yours to lap up all your high pitched whines.

When he rises again to gasp against his own pleasure, the chain you gifted him dangles right above your lips and a nuclear bomb detonates.

You cum again with Dokyeom’s thumb under the ribbon encircling your neck, a tease of choked breath as he rubs the charm like a lifeline. Voice cracking, earth shatter, mind numb pleasure from the tip of your nose to your pinky toe.

Dokyeom is babbling over you. Rhythm abandoned as he subjected to the tight squeeze of your worn cunt until that punch to his gut hits. Each rope of cum makes his cock throb as he plows you with a deep thrust, stilling to empty himself inside you.

You're fully crushed into the itchy upholstery as his arms buckle.

“Wow,” you gasp, catching your breath.

What else can you say? A month of no touching culminating into the best sex of your life with your devastating boyfriend while he wears a chain with your name on it.

Dokyeom cackles into your collarbone, chest tickling against yours until he leans back to look at you.

His hair resembles an electrocuted poodle, his lips are red and swollen, and sweat glosses his skin in the low light. But Dokyeom is glowing with life and happiness and all the things that make the world good.

“I love you.”

Dokyeom responds with a girlish shriek at your impromptu confession.

“Damn, okay.” You laugh, staring at his bare ass as he runs a lap around the living room stark naked.

“You can’t just— I wanted to say it first!” He pouts before flopping down on top of you.

“Are you serious?” Breathless from his weight, you fail to push him off you as he flails like a fish. “Is that what you’re focusing on?”

“Yes,” Dokyeom grouches into your cheek. “You’re the first girl I’ve felt this way about and I wanted to…”

He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. Your entire relationship was many of Dokyeom’s firsts. The first person he had sex with, first college girlfriend he told his mom and sister about, and now the first girl to make him truly understand loving another person. It wasn’t something you held over his head, and some of it he didn’t even tell you about but it all tallies up in his mind how unprepared he is for it all.

“Minnie, look at me.”

You don’t speak again until he finally meets your gaze.

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” You sigh.

Dokyeom doesn’t catch hint, “We were talking about–”

“Nope, can’t seem to recall.”

Finally, he catches the playful pout and the way your eyes cut back his as you look around the room feigning ignorance. And because he’s Dokyeom and you’re a sucker for anything he does, you can’t stop the smile mirroring his own when softly traces the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #🫡 highvern

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yuyu1024 · 6 months ago

Text

Babe

Pairings: S.coups × y/n

Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)

i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...

meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤

(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)

Me writing... is depending if im okay.

Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.

Thank you.

P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.

-----------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.

He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.

"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.

"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug

"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.

He never lost his strength.

"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you

"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head

"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.

"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."

"Okay, doc. Thank you."

And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.

It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.

You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.

"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.

"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand

"Yeah... I got busy healing..."

"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"

"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple

"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder

"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."

"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"

And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.

"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."

"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."

But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.

He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.

"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.

"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.

"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.

"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.

He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.

"You promised... no one should know..."

"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.

"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder

He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.

You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.

So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.

"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"

"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."

He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.

"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"

You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.

"Y/N..."

"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."

"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."

"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."

You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.

He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.

"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.

"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.

"Okay..." you lower your gaze.

You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.

You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."

"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."

"Wait. What?" You ask

The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.

"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks

"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."

"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend

"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.

This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.

***

You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.

It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.

"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."

"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say

"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says

You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."

"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.

"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.

"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them

And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.

"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"

Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"

"No..."

"And then... stay...."

"But... my parents..."

"I already told them... they are fine with it."

"When?"

"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."

You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine

"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."

"That's not it."

"Then what?"

You sigh. You are lost for words.

Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.

You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.

"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.

Now you are the one in the bad mood.

"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.

"Okay." You answer not looking at him.

You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...

"Babe." He calls you

You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.

"Can you please come here..." he says

You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.

"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.

"But... your leg..."

"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.

Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but

"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.

And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.

"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."

"Why...?" He pouts

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.

"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."

He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."

"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."

"You sure?"

"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."

"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.

"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say

He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.

"I know what you're doing..." he hums

"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."

His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."

"What will you do?"

"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."

"And...?" You put your forehead to his.

"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."

Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.

"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."

"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.

You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.

"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.

"Should I... let the tip touch me?"

"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.

You already removed your panties off without him noticing.

"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.

"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."

You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.

"Holy... shiiiiit!"

"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.

"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."

When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.

"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."

"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.

"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."

"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."

"You do?"

You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."

"You miss my dick?" He tease

"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.

"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."

Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.

"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."

"You like that?"

"I do."

Then you start to move yourself.

You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.

"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.

"Just let it go..."

"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.

"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."

"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Babe..."

"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."

"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you

It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.

"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.

He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.

"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."

Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."

"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."

"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."

A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."

You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."

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wildestdreamsblog · 2 years ago

Note

Hello how are you?

I'm not sure if I've already sent this to you so... If your requests are open I want to request a fic with yoongi (or a member that suits you better) where they are in a relationship and the reader feels neglected, yoongi is too involved with the next album to give us attention so the reader tries to break up but how are we talking from a Yandere... I think you know where I'm going lol

Sorry if it's too confusing, I really like your writing so I wanted to read this from your perspective (with a lot of angst pls🛐

You’re not leaving me

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You were done waiting for him, done being alone in this relationship. But it turns out Min Yoongi is someone who won’t let go. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Dubcon, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here you go because you asked so nicely 💜3,333 words!

“He’s not coming, is he?”

You flinched from your friend’s sharp words. You turned around to meet her eyes, having to step out of your own party to ask where your boyfriend was, where Min Yoongi was.

“Something came up,” you replied, your voice small as you forced yourself to smile at her reassuringly. She eyed your phone, shaking her head as she lamented how this wasn’t even the first time your so-called boyfriend bailed out on you. She said and you quoted, ‘What’s the use of having a boyfriend when he can’t even make an effort to show up?’

You hated to agree, but for the life of you you could no longer defend him.

The truth was, he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up his phone tonight.

The truth was, this wasn’t the first time he did this to you.

The truth was, every time he told you he was sorry, you believed him a little less.

“You deserve so much better, Y/N,” your friend said as she wrapped her arms around you. For fuck’s sake, it was his and your anniversary. And the person you wanted to show up couldn’t even be bothered to show up, she thought.

That night, you didn’t go back to his home. You decided to instead go to your own apartment, the one you didn’t let go of once he asked you to move in. It turned out it was the smartest thing you had ever done. You woke up that morning with a single message.

‘Sorry I wasn’t able to pick up the phone. How’s my kitten?’

You scoffed, throwing your phone somewhere on your bed without replying. You had not gone home the whole night and yet, he didn’t ask you where you were. You were almost certain that Yoongi himself didn’t even come home last night. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he didn’t know you didn’t come home, or that he didn’t even bother to tell you he wasn’t coming home.

Or that he didn’t even remember it was your anniversary yesterday.

You felt hot tears falling freely on your face with the realization that you and him were nearing the end of your relationship.

Was this even how relationship should be?

Were you just wasting time on something that you thought was more?

Did he really love you?

Did he still love you?

The door opened before you could even enter the code. His eyes went wide when he saw you, relief apparent in his face and the way his shoulders loosened. You hadn’t even reacted yet when he pulled you inside his expensive apartment, his arms tight around you as he buried his face on your neck.

If he noticed that you didn’t welcome his embrace, he didn’t comment, too lost on his own misery when he found you gone.

“I thought something bad happened to you, kitten,” he began, his voice shaky. His embrace became even tighter and it started to hurt. But nothing could hurt more than your heart right now. “You didn’t answer my message. I was worried!”

He stepped back, finally noticing that you were still wearing your clothes yesterday.

“Where did you stay, kitten?” He asked, his tone holding something unfamiliar, something dark. His large and veiny hand, the one that you always admired, tilted your chin up. His eyes were serious. Yoongi was always serious but you felt like this was different. “You must have been too drunk to come back home, right, kitten? You should have called me. I would have picked you up, you know that,” his tone was sweet, yet his words felt like they were a warning, as if you displeased him.

“You won’t make me worry again, right? You won’t disappear without a word again, right kitten?”

And only when you nodded did he let you go. He smiled so sweetly at you, before telling you what he planned for the two of you today.

See, everytime Yoongi messed up, he overcompensated. He became more romantic, bought you expensive things you didn’t ask for, took you to places you had never been. He held onto you a little bit tighter. And that night, he touched you a little bit harder, thrusting just a little bit deeper into you as if he was claiming you.

Times like these were the reason why you thought he loved you. But then the vicious cycle continued. He would become busier, so immersed with his work that he forgot to love you. You were understanding, beyond understanding. But just because you understood didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

It did.

And you could no longer live like this.

You didn’t know how to react when you saw on the internet that the group was seen at the airport today as they are bound to Japan- yet another thing he failed to mention to you. You were currently with your friend, hanging out after work when you saw the news. The look on your face must have been obvious that she snatched your phone away to read.

“You know what you have to do, Y/N. He treats you like you don’t even matter! How hard can messaging you be? It’s like he just wants you around without putting in effort in your relationship. Leave him, girl!”

You couldn’t even defend him because she was right.

The next night, he video called you. You must have been a masochist because you accepted.

“Hi kitten! Jimin’s asking which kimono you want,” he said in his deep voice, the camera showing you Jimin as he held up two Kimonos with different colors. His smile was a welcome reprieved from your dreary days. “Hi my favorite noona! Which do you want more?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at him calling you his favorite. “Why are you buying me Kimono, Jiminnie?”

“It’s a bribe so you won’t ever leave my hyung here,” he joked, unknowingly hitting you where it hurt. He was laughing at Yoongi as he said it. “He was more unbearable when he hadn’t found you yet.”

You lost your smile for a moment before acting as though you were happy. But Yoongi saw you faltered for a second. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t unfeeling. He could sensed that something changed, and to be honest it terrified him.

It terrified him what he would do if he lost you…if you ever leave him.

Once you decided what color you wanted, Yoongi came back on the screen. His handsome face never managed to not make your heart skip a beat.

“How’s my kitten? Did you have dinner already?” He asked in his sweet, deep voice.

“You’re in Japan,” you stated the obvious, your voice toneless as you looked at his confused and apologetic expression.

“Yes…I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you beforehand. Schedule’s a bit tight this week. I can’t wait to come home to you though, my kitten. I miss you. I love you deeply.”

That night, you didn’t say you loved him back.

You were done with the disrespect, with the disregard, with being an afterthought for him that you decided it would be best to leave while he was abroad. It would be easier for you to not have him around as you packed your things, as you packed the life you thought you would have with him.

With one sorrowful look at the bedroom you shared with him, you wheeled out your luggage out of the room only to found him sitting on the sofa quietly, swirling a glass of whiskey. The living room was dark, saved for the light provided by the lampshade, casting shadow on his face. He was staring at nothing, his form that of a statute from sitting so still. Slowly, so slowly he lifted his eyes to you.

“Going somewhere, kitten?” He asked in his deep voice, his eyes shifting to your luggage before idly returning to you.

“Y-Yoongi, why are you here?” You asked, your voice shaking with shocked and fright.

The side of his lips tilted up, his eyes observing your rigid form before sipping from his drink. He put it on the table with a thud, “I live here. So do you. So I’ll ask again. Where are you going?”

You were stunned by his replies. He shouldn’t be here. This was supposed to be easy. What was he doing here?

“B-but you’re supposed to be in Japan.”

Yoongi stood up, casually walking to you like a hunter would. It would be fitting because you felt like you were a prey as you backed away from him. He smirked, keeping his eyes on you even when you put the kitchen counter in between the two of you.

“I returned because I missed you, honey. Aren’t you happy I’m here now?” The look on his face terrified you, the look on his eyes was dark as though he was both hurt and angered by something, as though he was barely hanging on a thread. “Ahhh,” he pondered in realization. “You’re not happy to see me because you were fucking leaving me.”

“Y-Yoongi, you’re scaring me,” you all but whimpered as you backed away from him further when he came too close, his hand almost grabbing you. He tilted his head when you evaded his touch.

“Why are you running away from me?” He mocked you as he watched you ran back to the living room, putting so much space between the two of you.

He hated it.

Yoongi looked down at the expanse of the floor between him and you with so much disdain, his long black hair covering his face.

“Yoongi, let’s talk when you’re calm, okay?” You whispered in a soothing voice, not wanting to set him off. Yoongi had always been the calm one. He was even mistaken for an emotionless man. But you, of all people, knew that he only expressed his emotions with people he trusted, with people he loved. And you experienced how expressive he was when he was happy, when he was tired, when he was loving. But you were not familiar with how he was when he was angry.

You were terrified as you realized that now might be the time you saw his angry side.

“Why?” He droned, his eyes now focused on your luggage, glaring at it so hard as if he wanted it it disappear. As though he didn’t want to see the obvious evidence of you leaving him.

How could you leave him?

“Why do you want to talk now when you were going to fucking leave me without talking to me?!” He hissed, the veins in his neck protruding as he swiped off your luggage to the side in his haste to get to you.

And this time, you weren’t fast enough.

He had you trapped on the wall, his arms caging you as he looked down at you with sadness and fury in his eyes. “You’re really thinking of leaving me,” he whispered as tears formed in his eyes.

You attempted to push him away, your hands on his chest but he was as still as a stone. Why were you pushing him away, kitten? Didn’t you love him anymore? Wasn’t he attractive anymore?

Were you tired of me?

Was there someone else?

Was that why you were leaving him? You found someone better?

“Yoongi,” you breathed, trying to calm your nerves. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, could feel the emotions rolling off of him. He was shaking, his tears falling from his face as the handsome man looked at you with nothing short of broken. In an attempt to calm him, you slowly, so slowly caressed his face. Tears drenched your hand as he leaned on it, placing kisses on your palm. “Yoongi,” you called him again, wanting his eyes on you so he could understand why you had to do this.

“Yes, my kitten?”

“You don’t love me anymore. Or at least, you don’t love me like before,” you explained further and as kindly as you could.

He looked confused as he looked at your eyes intensely.

“You can’t seriously be surprised, Yoongi…I had to learn you were in Japan through the internet when you were the one I’m in a relationship with.”

“Are.”

What?

“You are in relationship with me. This is not ending. We are never ending.”

“Yoongi, I’m breaking up with you,” you quietly declared, and now that it was out there, you felt light. You felt…like this was right. Which was obviously opposite to what the man was feeling. Yoongi’s face glowered, his eyes burned with determination. His hold on your hand tightened when you attempted to withdraw from him.

How could he let you leave when you were the only sun in his world? When you made him feel?

“No. You’re not breaking up with me. You’re not leaving me. You’re staying with me until the end of time.”

“This is not working! You don’t give me time, you don’t tell me where you are, you don’t even show up-“

“So that’s the problem? That I’m not present? So you just want to be with me, right, kitten? I’m sorry I’ve been distant…” he whispered, his face nuzzling your neck despite your adamant refusal. “From now on, you’ll never be far from me.”

He promised himself you would never leave his sight until you took back the fucking thought that you would break up with him. If you thought breaking up with him was easy, you were in for a treat. If you thought he’d let you go that easily, then you didn’t know him at all.

“You don’t understand!” You yelled at him, feeling frustrated with how he was selectively hearing what you had to say. Your emotions were swelling up that you were able to muster the strength to push him away. You quickly put a lot of distance between the two of you, only able to manage it because he was in a daze.

“Yoongi, you only look for me when you remember me. That’s not love! I love you, but I love myself, too. I’m leaving you.”

His brows furrowed, why were you still insisting you were leaving him? He stared down at you with exasperation in his face, his nostrils flaring. Yoongi’s jaw clenched when he heard you said that you were leaving him.

And then he sprang into action.

You ran to the bedroom which was the closest room to you as you recognized you were in danger. You were about to slam the door to his face when he inserted his booted foot, effectively stopping it from closing. He barged into the room, flicking the lock himself before facing you with his dark face.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re not leaving me, kitten,” he declared, his voice hard before pushing you on the bed. He wasted no time, crawling to you and shoving your thighs apart. He settled in between your legs, avoiding you from closing them as he leaned closer to you.

In this position, you could not be more vulnerable as you were.

Yoongi was mad, yet his touches were soft. His hand caressed your face before kissing you. His kisses were different from before. He was kissing you as though he was starved, as though he was tired of holding back from you. His other hand was lifting your leg, rubbing his engorged erection on your core.

You wished you could say you were unaffected, but you weren’t.

He always knew which button to push, which spot to kiss to make you mindless. And Min Yoongi was using it to his advantage.

His tongue thrusted in your mouth, stroking against your tongue as though he was tasting you. The way he kissed you was unlike the ways you had been kissed before. This time, it felt a lot like claiming you. He was expert in this, you knew this from the start. His sexy, deep moans weakened your refusal that you found yourself pulling him close, your hand on his nape. His whole body was covering yours, his weight completely on top of you as his kisses dragged down to your neck.

He was marking you, latching on the thin skin and suckling like he wanted the whole world to know you were his woman. The way he suckled on your sensitive nipples made you whimpered, your hands on his silky, black hair. But when he went down to your core, breathing hotly on it, suddenly you remembered what you were supposed to do.

With renewed strength, you pulled his hair, stopping him from getting closer to your core. But you should know, you were no matched to a man who almost lost the only woman he ever loved. Yoongi growled, grabbing your wrists away from his hair.

“This is a mistake,” you moaned when he started lapping your core, his sinful tongue pushing past your lips with vigor. Your essence tasted heaven to him. How could you take this away from him, he thought. He could never go without this.

“No,” he growled, the vibration from his voice elating a moan from you. “This is fucking right.”

You tried twisting from him, a sad attempt at standing your ground. “I’m leaving you. Let me go!”

He chuckled, fucking chuckled as if it was hilarious to him. “Why would I let you go, kitten? You’re the one for me. We’re going to get through this.”

In your shocked at his adamant refusal to let you go, you didn’t notice that he stripped of his pants, his cock now bared to you. You always had trouble fitting him in you. He was thick, veins apparent on his cock. Every time you were done making love, you would always have difficulties walking. He fucked you that good.

His cock bobbed up and down as he crawled to you, his lips turning into a smirk as he watched you watched his hardness. His hot breath tickled your neck as he leaned in, his lips on your ear.

“You know why I’m not always with you?”

“Because you’re busy with work-“

He chuckled darkly, his hand completely encasing both your wrist while the other was playing with your clit, encircling it erotically.

“Wrong, kitten. I had to tear myself away from you because if I didn’t, you’d figure out how obsessed I am to you, how needy I am. If you knew, you would run to the hills. But I see now that was a mistake…you almost left me because of that.”

Your heart beat louder when he confessed. You tried twisting your wrists to make him let go of you to no avail. “Why are you telling me this now?”

With an indulgent smile, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. He pushed your knees to your chest, completely baring you to him. “Because you deserve to know how much you are loved by me.” And how he would never let you go.

He grabbed his cock, sliding it between your wet pussy before guiding it to your entrance. You moaned from his ministration, his seduction working. Your body started to betray you, lust attacking your senses.

“You want me, right?”

You moaned when he pinched your nipple, his hard cock teasing your entrance.

“You love me, right? You’re never going to leave me…right?”

And when you moaned yes, he suddenly pushed his cock inside you.

By the end of that night, he made you screamed how much you loved him. And come morning, Yoongi looked at you with adoration, tracing the marks he left on your skin. The heat of your skin calmed him.

It scared him that he was willing to do anything for you.

And now, you would discover who he really was. You would discover a love that was too much, that was suffocating… a love that was his.

#yandere bts #suga x y/n #suga x reader #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yandere suga #bts fic

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daydreams-after-dark · 6 months ago

Note

Hii can I request a Dom seungmin and jeongin fic (threesome) plzplz? Could be anything but pls I've been very thirsty for Dom vocalracha lately after reading this one fic of them on Tumblr having a foursome with reader+Felix and I very much died reading it

Plz make it extra rough but lots of praise, could be any scenario, just Dom seungmin and jeongin 🥰

Also unrelated ask but r u comfy with writing fics where reader is transgender? Ftm or mtf? Just asking, it's unrelated to the req dw

Have a good one 🎂

It’s a Jeongin and Seungmin story today 🤗

Not my usual characters, but it seems so many of you after-darklings (not sure what I should call you: suggestions are open) are getting really wet and/or hard for this pair. So I feel I must feed you all the goodness that is vocalracha.

Also, re ftm / mtf, absolutely open to this, but I don’t feel knowledgeable enough just yet.

MDNI // SMUT

CW: threesome m x f x m, rough penetration, oral sex (m rec.), collar and leash, choking, blindfolds, squirting, praise, pet names, creampie, pussy slapping, face slapping, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation.

You knew when you received the voice message from Jeongin you were fucked. Well, going to be fucked. Rough, according to his message.

“You’re in a lot of trouble my sweet little girl. Avoiding me all week like that. Meet me at the hotel. You know what’s going to happen.”

You gulped. The hotel usually meant an extra level of unhinged, and oftentimes he’d bring Seungmin to play with punish you.

You put on your best pair of lace panties and matching bra, high heels and a short little dress and took a cab into the outer city where the hotel was located.

They were already there. Waiting for you.

Seungmin answered the door. “Pretty little pup.” He whispered, cupping your jaw and swiping his thumb along your bottom lip and smearing your freshly applied lipstick.

You allowed your lips to part slightly, an opportunity Seungmin immediately took. He hooked his thumb in your mouth forcefully and chuckled to himself. “I’ve missed you. Missed owning you.”

He spun you around and pushed you up against the door and nipped at your neck. You could feel his erection pressing against you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He whispered against your neck. His hands peeled your dress up and squeezed the flesh of your ass. One hand remained there while the other quickly unbuckled his belt.

Anticipation flooded your body, your cunt aching for his cock. He squeezed his length between your thighs so it slid against your pussy.

“Fucking wet already, hmm? Panties are soaked.” He kissed your neck passionately. “A filthy little whore. A perfect little pup.”

“Seungmin.” A stern voice came from the bed. “You’re not going to fuck her in the first five minutes. She needs to be a begging mess before she deserves our cocks.”

You whimpered. You wanted Seungmin to sink into you right then and there.

“Jeongin, needs for you to beg for it, princess. I need you to be a really good girl for me. You want my cock don’t you?” He nipped your earlobe.

“Y-yes… cock. Need your cock.” You choked.

“I know you do. All you need to do is exactly what we say, and I promise we’ll let you come.”

You nodded. “Yes. I’ll be a good pup.”

“Crawl to me.” Jeongin demanded in a cold tone. You swallowed hard as Seungmin backed away and you turned and dropped onto all fours.

You met Jeongin’s gaze as you slowly crawled across the floor, the hotel carpet rough on your knees. Better than a hardwood floor, you supposed. You knelt between his knees and waited.

Seungmin came up behind you and attached your favourite collar and leash, handing the chain to Jeongin.

“Stand.” He tugged the chain and you obeyed. “Take off your clothes. Leave your heels on.”

The two men watched you with hungry eyes as you pulled your dress down and stepped out of it. Then your panties and bra. They’d seen you naked plenty of times, but you still felt yourself blush a little, when their expressions were as though it was their first time seeing your naked form.

“Now undress us.” Seungmin commanded as he drifted his hand down your back and over the curve of your ass.

You took your time undressing them, marinating in the anticipation that had taken over your body. You were wet from just the thought of what was unfolding, your cunt ached knowing it was going to be abused shortly.

Jeongin settled on the bed. Head resting on the pillows, long, hard erection lying against his taut abs. Fucking scrumptious.

Slowly, you climbed up onto the bed and he grasped the chain dangling from your collar and tugged you so your face was hovering over his cock. He patted your head gently and smiled kindly.

Then his entire demeanour changed in a millisecond. His shy eyes turned deranged, his smile turned into a crazed grin.

Seungmin was quickly behind you bullying his cock into your cunt. You gasped at the stretch and then the depth as he slammed in the entire way.

“We’re not going to go easy on you. But we know you’re a good girl. We know you’re going to take everything we give you.” He grunts as he sets a brutal pace.

“Choke on my cock, pretty angel.” Jeongin whispered.

You took him in a hand and teased him with your tongue. You licked up the underside of the shaft and then slapped it against the flat of your tongue.

“Tsk tsk… that’s not choking on it, sweetheart.” Jeongin pushed the back of your head down over his length.

Seungmin snapped his hips hard, every impact of his pelvis against your ass pushed you further onto Jeongin’s length. You made a loud choking sound, and the two men chuckled.

“That’s our good girl. Pretty sounds.” Jeongin purred as you struggled to take him.

Suddenly, your arms were ripped from underneath you where you had been supporting yourself, and were held securely behind your back by Seungmin. With no way to support your upper body, you fell entirely over Jeongin’s cock, choking you even more. Your lips met his pubic bone and your eyes widened with fear.

Seungmin grunted and pinned you down by pushing on your arms where he had them in his tight grip.

Jeongin started to thrust his hips up to fuck your face. Your vision blurred as your eyes filled with tears and your mascara smeared on your cheeks.

You felt someone tug on the chain, lifting you up enough to catch your breath and then you were pushed back down.

Harder and harder they fucked you from both ends, you without any control over what was happening. They let you up for air, then pushed you back down to deep throat Jeongin. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to do this. You could hardly catch your breath before your throat was being stretched with his dick again.

“So perfect. Look at you. Such a good little slut for us.” Jeongin stroked your hair affectionately. “Taking cock so fucking well.”

Without warning, Seungmin pulled out of your dripping cunt and yanked you off of Jeongin.

“I’ve got a fun game I wanna play with you pup.” He fetched the swivel chair from the desk in the the corner of the room and positioned it in the middle of the floor.

“Come. Kneel on this.” He directed you. Pulling the leash. You knelt on the seat of the chair with your arms resting on the backrest.

A blindfold was placed around your eyes and fingers were shoved into your mouth. At the same time a cock pushed its way into your needy cunt.

You could tell it was Seungmin’s fingers and Jeongin’s cock by how aggressive the hips were slamming into you and how rough the fingers were.

Your orgasm was building, your walls tightening. Yes. Yes. This felt so fucking amazing.

Then, you were empty and being spun on the chair, only to be penetrated again. They fucked you for some time before repeating the process. Again and again and again.

You became so fucked out that you lost track of who was in your pussy and who was in your mouth. All you knew was that you were in some sort of filthy heaven. A little cockslut for your favourite men.

They pulled and tugged your hair, their fingers were rough and unforgiving in your mouth. They fucked you for their own pleasure, not caring how deep they were hitting you. Not caring if it hurt. They slapped your ass, dug their fingers in. They even slapped your face every so often, which made your cunt clench.

You loved it when they were rough with you. You were so close, on the verge of shattering, when you found yourself empty once more. The blindfold was ripped off and you were laid on your back at the edge of the bed.

“Hold your fucking legs up, sweetheart.”

“Please…I need to come. Please…been good…please!” You were sobbing and begging for relief.

“Shhh… pup. We’ve got you.” Seungmin cooed.

He rubbed lyour pussy frantically, almost violently, slapping your pussy every now and then. Jeongin held his cock close as he spurted thick ropes of cum on your entrance. He pushed your legs back, pinning them in place while Seungmin relentlessly assaulted your pussy.

“Take it. You wanna come. Be a good girl.” He taunted.

You squirmed and writhed underneath them, your clit was too sensitive. But the pressure inside continued to build until—

“Fuck!!!!!!!! Nghhh!!!! Coming!!” You cried as liquid spurted from your core.

“Yes…make a mess…I know you have more.” Growled Jeongin and he pushed two long fingers inside you to attack your g spot.

It was too much. You had lost control of your voice, your thoughts - everything, and with what could only be described as a wild, primal scream you squirted more, spilling your juices all over yourself. You broke down, crying and shaking.

But they weren’t finished with you. Jeongin rubbed your juices and his cum all over your stomach and up to your breasts, massaging them in a rough way. Seungmin quickly pushed his cock back inside you and fucked your sensitive and used pussy some more.

“Gonna fill you up, pup.” He panted.

Jeongin’s hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed as Seungmin emptied himself against your cervix. Feeling Seungmin’s final thrusts whilst being choked had you seeing stars one more time.

You were addicted to this, and you made a mental note to be a brat this coming week. You wanted to see how far you could push them, what kind of games they’d want to subject you to.

But for now, the three of you were spent, taking your time to shower and dress, and eventually go out for a meal.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni

#seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #jeongin smut #jeongin x reader #Skz smut #sorsha after dark asks

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goldfades · 9 months ago

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𝐨𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧, 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 | delicate au, jack hughes

౨ৎ ─ summary | leon gets picked by new jersey devils & a new rumor develops from photos taken at a draft afterparty. libby gets a dm from someone unexpected ;)

─ warnings | playful insults, more libby hating :(, stupid usernames lol i was running out of ideas, rumors idk if theres anything else!

─ ev's notes | im so excited hehehheheeheh, i hope y'all like this as much as i do! yall know how much i love feedback so PLS GIVE ME ANYTHING, im living off crumbs 🙁

leontf96 yost ice arena

Liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, umichhockey and 62,404 more

leontf96 | best 2 years of my life this far, don't even know how to begin to thank everyone on this team & the lifelong friends i've made 💛 thank you, michigan #goblue #96 signing out 🫡 april 8th, 2023

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lhughes_06 | not leaving me just yet 🥳

↳ leontf96 UGH the only downside of this

↳ lhughes_06 love u too 🥰

jackhughes | welcome to jersey brother 👀

↳ leontf96 thank you brother 🥹

umichhockey | NOO NOT THE #96 OUT😪

↳ leontf96 i'll always be a wolverine

↳ lhughes_06 okay cheesy🥴

markestapa | legend ✊🏼

↳ leontf96 love ya bro 😤🥹

ethanedwards | 🫡🫡

↳ leontf96 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

adamfantilli | i'll miss you and ur clammy hands forever 🥲

↳ leontf96 i'll miss ur greasy mullet hair forever 😣

↳ lhughes_06 oh... 😟

↳ adamfantilli its the way we show our love luke u wouldn't get it😭

libbytf | you'll be closer to ur fav sister now!! yipee 💅🏻

↳ leontf96 YAYYAYAYAYAYYA (help me someone) 🤗

libbytf nashville, tennessee

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libbytf | proud sister moment!! couldn't have been prouder of my baby brother 🩷 june 30th, 2023

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leontf96 | coolest little brother ever (me) 😎

↳ libbytf okay someone has a big ego 😑

leontf96 | love you 😣

↳ libbytf love ya 💁🏻‍♀️

njdevils | are we gonna get a turner sibling duo?

↳ libbytf i cant skate to save my life so you'll just have to deal with the hughes 😶 love ya!

lizturnerfallon | growing up way to fast 🥺

libbytfnews

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libbytfnews | libby spotted in nashville at a NHL draft afterparty! maybe with a new man? 👀 july 2nd, 2023

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hearts4libs | omg she looks so happy!! YAYAYYAYA

libbytf96 | idc ab her new mans i just need a heartbreak album pls 💳💥💳💥

jhughesluvr | I KNOW THAT SIDE PROFILE ANYWHERE.

↳ hugheshockey86 dude its definitely jack, he liked this post?!?!?!?

lukehughesleftarm | THATS JACK FOR SURE OH MY GODDDDDDD

puckbunny33 | no fucking way

user545 | good 😭😭 for😭😭😭 them😭😭😭😭😭😭

Accept message request from jhughes (jackhughes)?

jhughes: have you seen twitter? we're trending 🤣 jhughes: looks like i'm your bf now 🤷🏻🤷🏻

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#delicate au #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x y/n #luke hughes #new jersey devils #nhl angst #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl imagines #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey

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muddyorbsblr · 6 months ago

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the final Lady Sharpe part 5: sent away

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: Your plans with Thomas are coming to an end as his machine parts arrive and you both head into the city to set into motion Lucille's arrest.

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k (get a drink ready)

Warning/s: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers exit the room i only ask nicely once); vaginal fingering; oral sex (f receiving); Lucille Sharpe (yes she's a warning) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: married blorbos are snowed in (oh no how terrible 😈😏); Thomas is a simp for his wife; mutual pining sad blorbos hours

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "If we cannot lay together, then at least let me pleasure you." and ends at "…except one somber truth"

Logically there was no good reason why Thomas would wake this morning in a significantly better mood, considering that he was still stuck in this manor, a death sentence care of his psychotic murderous sister still looming over your head, and tasked with a nightly distraction that even the mere thought of it made his stomach want to turn. And yet somehow, in these few moments when he got to rouse from sleep before you did, getting to really look upon your features at a seemingly peaceful rest while he held you in his arms, there was a contentment that blanketed him and kept him warm despite the biting cold of winter.

If he could keep even at least this after this treacherous endeavor was done with, if he could keep you, then perhaps he could believe himself still deserving of happiness despite all the devastation he'd wrought throughout the years. There was no version of the near future that he could picture where he would be denied the simplest pleasure of getting to see you, perhaps even hold you. And with those thoughts, his mood had begun to sour, fully knowing that that was what awaited him at the end of the road. Dissolution of marriage.

And he couldn't even fault you for that. Why would you wish to stay with him given the context on why he'd chosen to court you? Why would you have any reason to believe him if he could muster up the courage to tell you that he'd fallen irretrievably in love with you and that he wanted more than anything to try to make this marriage work? To make it real?

He traced the back of his finger across your cheekbone, his heart twisting and melting all at once when you smiled and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. "I love you," he whispered, hoping that somehow his message would reach into your dreams. "I don't want you to leave if we make it through this. I wish to stay with you. Wherever you wish to go, I'll happily follow."

You began to stir in his arms, soft groans coming from you as you slowly roused in your husband's embrace. "Hmm?" The baronet's heart caught in his throat when your eyes fluttered open and met his, a soft smile stretching across your face. "Morning..."

He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, doing his best to fight back the desire to do nothing more than simply to stay in bed just like this when you rewarded him with such a lighthearted, melodic giggling in response. "Good morning, wife."

"Big day today," you mumbled, failing to fight back a yawn as you worked your way out of his embrace to sit up on the bed. "Your machine parts arrive today if your supplier and the postal service is on schedule. I just have to get all the duplicate documents I've had hidden away in your workshop together so I can send them over to my contacts in Scotland Yard." Excitement colored your features as you reached for his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "It's almost over. We actually did it. You're almost free."

Thomas' stomach dropped as the reality of the situation dawned on him, mentally counting back on how long it had been since he carried you in his arms across the threshold of Allerdale Hall and you concocted a plan that might grant him his freedom from Lucille's reign of terror. Three and a half weeks. He would be expecting the notice from the post office any day now. Tears prickled in the back of his eyes as your words haunted him.

You'll be free from me, too.

You seemed oblivious to the darkness that begun to plague him as you bounded your way over to the wardrobe, starting to dress yourself so that you two could grab something to eat. And check on your mail for the day.

Thomas made his way to you, gently placing his hands over yours while you did up the buttons up the back of your dress. "May I?"

"Go ahead," you said breathily, releasing your hold on the stiff buttons. Your husband took his time carefully slipping each stiff button through its loop, softly kissing your temple as he worked his way up your back.

He rushed to grab for your collar piece before you reached for it, making you both break out into light chuckles as he tightened his other arm around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek once he'd successfully grabbed the piece of fabric. "Never pictured you to be the type that had a playful mood, husband," you giggled, righting yourself and gathering your hair in your hands so he could secure the piece around your neck.

Before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips to the back of your neck, the sound of your staggered breathing and faint whimper spurring him on to press another. And another. All so that the words that danced on the tip of his tongue couldn't escape. Come back to bed. I wish to hold you a while longer. I have no desire to leave this room.

And the most dangerous words of all. Words that he never thought he would say to another and fully mean them. I love you. And I wish to spend the rest of my life with you.

"Thomas," you gasped his name like you were fighting for breath, reaching behind you and holding on to him to keep yourself upright. He groaned against your neck when your hand met the bare skin of his stomach. "What's gotten into you?"

His adamant words from many nights ago nearly slipped from his lips. You're my wife. I should be with you. It should be you.

"Can I not simply indulge in greeting my wife--"

The sharp rapping of knuckles on your bedroom door pulled you both harshly out of the moment, worsened by the shrill tone of Lucille on the other end. "If you both dawdle about, breakfast will get cold."

"We'll be down shortly, Lucille, just start without us," you called back, muttering something about mood ruiners. "We should go," you told him with a downhearted exhale, your breath hitching again when it seemed that the last few moments seemed to have no effect on Thomas, who resumed with kissing along the column of your neck. "Thomas, didn't you hear your sister? Breakfast will get cold."

"Then we'll eat it cold, darling," he mumbled, setting your collar piece back down on your dresser so he could wrap his arms around you. He turned you around in his arms, mesmerized as he watched your hair slip from your hand and fall to frame your face. "Have I told you how exquisite you look in the morning light?"

You broke out into a smile, averting your gaze from his as you made a motion to step out of his hold. "Thomas come on, we should go you need to--"

"Or how I think you're absolutely brilliant?" he cut you off, framing your face in his hands before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. Will I ever get to tell you that I've fallen in love with you? he thought to himself, savoring the fleeting moment where you returned his kiss before breaking it, taking a step backward and looking visibly flustered.

There was a long moment of deafening quiet before you spoke again, your tone soft, almost wistful. "If you keep this up, Sir Sharpe, I'll have no choice but to miss you when this is all over." Your expression became guarded, veiling to your husband the poignant fact that you, too, dreaded what would come after today.

The truth was that you already missed him, longed for him, even when he was already within your arm's reach. Just as he longed for you.

"There is still no mail that has come for your wife, Thomas," Lucille seethed the moment she made his way to his side as he fixed some tea for both of you. "I am growing quite impatient, it's nearly been a month and still no correspondence regarding her inheritance has come for her. In fact, no correspondence has come for her at all. As if there isn't a single soul that even cares to check up on her. Keep in touch. Could it be possible, sweet boy, that this Y/N is playing us for fools?"

A lump formed in Thomas' throat at his sister's suggestion, panic rising inside of him knowing how close her speculation actually was to the truth. "She did mention her father was quite the busy man, perhaps he has been overwhelmed with his work and will reach out soon."

"Well the old fool better hurry," she hissed. "The sooner we get what we need from this one, the sooner we can build toward an even better life together. Perhaps even make our way out of this decaying house. Finally let it sink to the ground."

The only better life I can envision is with the woman waiting for me at the dining table, he wanted so desperately to bite back. "Has any correspondence arrived for me, sister?" He struggled to keep his composure, forcing a smile on his face as he faced her cold, calculating features. How could you ever have convinced me that what we had, what you had me do, was love?

She was visibly taken aback by how he diverted the conversation, no longer speaking in a hushed tone and ensuring that you could hear from where you sat. "There--There is. A notice that those parts you ordered for your machine have come in. You'll need to sign for them at the post office."

"Excellent, I can bring Y/N along with me. Make a day of it."

Your face lit up at the mention of the notice. His supplier was perfectly within schedule. The end of your time together truly was drawing near; nearer than he ever wanted. "I would love to come with you to the city, husband," you beamed at him. "There are some letters I wish to send to my family as well. Keep them apprised of what I've been up to since getting married. All about Allerdale Hall and its rich history."

"That sounds like a perfect idea," Lucille told you both through gritted teeth. "I hope you two have a lovely time, then. Do try to get home before the blizzard strikes." Before Thomas made his way back to you, Lucille grabbed his arm in a talon-like grip. "The moment any form of correspondence comes for her, you are to tell me right away, dear brother. My patience can only last for so long."

"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, aren't you quite the sight to behold. How long has it been since you've aided us in a case with your expansive knowledge?" Detective Jeffries, a colleague of yours from Scotland Yard, was there to pick up his own mail from the post office and bumped into you and Thomas right as you arrived.

"Too long, Jeffries. Hopefully not so long that you'd all forgotten that the reason for my prolonged absence has been my acclimation to married life. I actually go by Lady Sharpe now," you politely corrected him, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing toward your husband. There was a noticeable pinch at your heart calling yourself that. Lady Sharpe. You wouldn't be for long if things worked out according to plan. "I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe. Lord of Allerdale Hall."

There was a fleeting moment of pure glee on Thomas' face at your introduction before he settled into a more cordial expression, stepping forward to shake the detective's hand. "Good to meet you, Detective," he greeted, placing his other hand on the small of your back before stepping back to your side. "I shall go see to my deliveries now, darling." Before he walked away and let you catch up with your colleague, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving you a soft smile before walking further into the post office for his parcel.

"And here I once recalled a feisty consultant insisting that she'd never fall in love or become the marrying type," Jeffries teased, wagging a finger at you as if to tell you 'I told you so'. "Matrimony becomes you, though, my friend. Both you and your husband are positively radiant with your adoration for one another. It doesn't take a detective to notice that."

His remark sat heavily in your heart, every part of you struggling not to give it away that the words struck a nerve. This marriage was a sham, and it would all be over soon. Thomas was just doing a remarkable job at pretending, and you…you didn't have to. Out here in public, feeding into the image of a newlywed couple happily in love, this was the only time you could let your love for him show. To communicate the sentiment that you would never dare to with words.

"Right well uhm…" You cleared your throat, shaking your head as if to shoo the conversation away. "What you said about aiding you all with a case…that's actually what I came here for. You remember those cases on the board that we could never make any headway on? Enola Sciotti? Edith Cushing? Pamela Upton? All missing persons cases?"

"Don't tell me you were spending your honeymoon investigating these cases, Y/N, that's simply depressing--"

"I didn't actively seek out the information, I stumbled into it," you cut him off, clutching the envelope of documents in your hand with a death grip. "Married into it, really."

Sheer horror colored your friend's features, throwing a look at the baronet currently making small talk with the workers inside as he signed for his parcels. "He--"

"No, Jeffries, not him. His sister. Lucille Sharpe. Right piece of work, that one. Sad to say they're no longer 'missing persons' cases." You placed the envelope into his hands, holding his gaze and hoping that he could see the desperation in your eyes. "These are copies of death certificates, marriage certificates, and money transfers. It paints a morbid timeline that will tell you what happened, what's been happening, behind the doors of Allerdale Hall. I've also made a transcript from recordings I found from a phonograph. One of his former wives caught a confession from Lucille Sharpe. There's a map of the manor in there as well, showing you where you'll find all the original documents and the recording cylinders."

"Y/N, if this is all true, you're not safe in that manor." His tone was laced with more than understandable concern. "Neither of you are."

"That's why I need you to get those documents to Scotland Yard as soon as you can and come to Allerdale Hall to arrest Lucille," you told him, your own fears starting to creep into your words as they stumbled out of your mouth. "She's already getting stir-crazy waiting for an inheritance to come to me that doesn't even exist. We've only barely managed to convince her that there's a windfall coming my way, but it won't be long until she grows impatient enough to kill me anyway and start fresh. Jeffries, we can't let her harm another woman for the sake of satiating her bottomless pit of hunger for money and status."

Now the detective clutched the documents tightly in his grasp, giving you a nod before flagging down a carriage. "We should have a squad there tomorrow. Until then you two stay safe. Perhaps try and spend the night elsewhere, just to make sure." He reached out to you, both of you grasping the other's forearm in a show of trust and respect. "Thank you, Y/L/N--I mean, Sharpe. You're about to bring closure to a whole lot of distraught families with this."

You only nodded, fear for your own safety creating a lump in your throat you found near impossible to swallow. "Let's focus on putting Lucille behind bars before we focus on what comes after. Thank you, Jeffries." You closed the door to the carriage and tapped on the wooden panel twice. "To Scotland Yard!" you called out to the coachman, who tipped his hat to you before the carriage began to move.

As you made your way back into the post office, you tried to force a wide smile onto your face, stomping down any fears you had for what awaited you once you made your way back to Allerdale Hall. And any anticipation you had for the heartache that would accompany your inevitable divorce.

Once you were within arm's reach, Thomas reached for your hand, pulling you towards him and wrapping his free arm around your waist before softly kissing your lips. "There you are, sweetheart." He quickly noticed the absence of the envelope from your hands. "It's done?"

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "It's done," you confirmed. "We really did it."

The entire time that Thomas inspected the coil springs and other machine parts that were delivered for him, he kept his arm around your waist, his hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. His face was a mix of emotions, the plainest to see being relief, no doubt from the realization steadily creeping in that in a few short days he truly would be free from all of this.

There was a disquiet in his eyes, too. One that he tried so hard to mask, but you'd gotten to know him well enough ever since your courtship that no smile, no matter how bright or breathtaking, could ever mask it from you. And you knew exactly where his concern lied. It wouldn't take long for Scotland Yard to conclude that even though he had not been the one administering the potion, or the one holding the cleaver, he still bore a great amount of responsibility for the deaths of all his former wives.

Thomas would be seen as an accomplice to his sister's crimes; perhaps a case could even be argued for third-degree murder because of his administering of the cyanide. Sure the documents would reveal Lucille to be the mastermind, but they would also reveal that in some of those cases that had gone cold, Thomas was partly the executioner.

You flinched in his hold when the sound of the post office's main doors slamming shut hit your ears, all of you inside turning your heads toward the man holding the handles, a frantic look in his eyes. "The storm's gotten too strong," he huffed out, slumping to the ground. "No carriages in or out of the area, if the lot of us value our safety."

Your husband let out a sigh of relief, holding you closer against him before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Perhaps when we arrive at the manor tomorrow we need not even face her," he whispered into your hair.

"Yes, and while that is a marvelous turn of events, husband, we are faced with one…tiny problem." He tilted his head at you slightly, prompting you to continue. "We're still stuck here, and the nearest inn to rent a room is a good walk away. In this storm we'd likely freeze before we even reached the front door."

"Ah, yes…that," he murmured, brows knitted together as he tried to look around the post office for a possible place to pass the time.

"Erm…we might have something that could house yous," one of the workers spoke up, jerking his head towards the back of the office, signaling for you to follow him. "We 'ave a little suite here set up for whenever the owner comes by and wants to spend a few days in the city. Sure he won't mind if you use it for tonight."

He opened the doors to reveal a quaint bedroom that felt a far cry from the echoes of faded opulence that your room in Allerdale Hall held, and yet still emanated the feel of a warm embrace that home was supposed to feel like. When you looked upon Thomas, you could see from his expression that he likely held a similar sentiment.

"This will do more than fine," he stated, holding out his hand to the worker to shake. "Thank you."

"So now that your grievous time with Lucille is finally coming to a close, what are your plans for…well, the rest of your life? Your freedom?" you asked Thomas through the divider in the room, trying to keep your tone casual as you changed into your underdress, preparing for sleep.

He answered you with a sharp huff. "In truth, darling, I haven't even begun to think about it yet. I feel as if I am not completely in the clear yet. Best to focus my attention on that first before thinking about what I wish for my freedom to look like."

You took out the final pin in your hair, setting it down on the little table by the window, next to your blades, before stepping out from behind the divider, your husband immediately catching sight of the furrowed brows and the grimace on your face. "I'm sure Scotland Yard will have a degree of leniency, considering that Lucille's arrest will lead to the closing of multiple cold cases on their board."

"That was entirely your work, Y/N. Your work in making the arrest possible is all that they will see--"

"And I wouldn't have been able to accomplish any of it if I didn't have help," you cut him off, making your way over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders, giving him a slight shake. "Not just from the spirits in that house, but from you. If I didn't have you in my corner, I would've been caught that first night. I know that I owe you a great debt for what you--"

The rest of your words died in a muffled squeak as he pulled you to him, the jerking motion causing you to straddle him on the bed as he captured your lips in a sudden kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his lips moving against yours, his hands roaming your body freely until they buried themselves in your hair.

He groaned against you, the sound melting into the sweetest sounding whimper when you crossed your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer. This would be the last night that you could call him your husband; perhaps you could allow yourself a sliver of indulgence. When he broke the kiss, he wrapped his arm securely around your waist before flipping you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft thud.

"My beautiful, brilliant wife," he rasped, the gravelly tone of his voice sending thrills up your spine. He proceeded to kiss along your neck, softly sucking at the base of your throat while he undid the tie at the top of your underdress. A mix between a gasp and a moan escaped you when he hooked your leg around his waist, pressing your hips together.

"Thomas what are you doing?" you asked him dumbly, breathlessly. "We don't need to do this tonight. Or ever again--"

"I want to," he mumbled, pressing a kiss above your heart. "I wish to lay with you, Y/N Sharpe." He kissed his way back up to your lips, looking at you with those pleading pup-like eyes that made him near impossible to resist. That whittled your resolve down to nearly nothing. "Please…"

You were finding it increasingly difficult to deny him, especially with how he was pressed against you, and you could feel his erection even through the layers of his trousers and what sheer clothing you had on yourself. And considering how you'd come to feel about him in the weeks past, how alarmingly quickly you recovered from the shock of his true predicament and the actual circumstances of your marriage, and you still found yourself falling so recklessly in love with him, most parts of you wanted nothing more than to say yes to him.

But then there was the borderline unwelcome party in your internal argument. The logical voice in your head that rationalized his actions as an overwhelming gratitude mistaken for desire. That you had done so much to get him out of the diabolical inescapable captivity that Lucille manipulated him into, and he couldn't articulate his gratitude to the point that in his mind, he saw it as an urge to lay with you.

"Thomas…" you said his name slowly, trying so hard to keep your head level and work against your more primal urge to just shout your assent. Taking deep breaths wasn't any help; it just pressed your bodies closer together, the slightest shift in his hips threatening to drive you mad. "Think about this for a moment…Wouldn't you rather wait until you could lay with someone that you love?"

There was a split second where a pained look crossed his face, before he leaned back down to softly capture your lips, moaning into the kiss when you threaded your fingers through his curls. "I wish to at least do something for you." He kissed you again before presenting you with another all too tempting offer. "If we cannot lay together, then at least let me pleasure you."

He kissed a trail along your jaw, his breath warming your skin before he traced the shell of your ear with his tongue. His next words had you letting out a whimper of his name, your desire for him that had been simmering for weeks now starting to boil over.

"I've been reading through the books in the manor's library, and all I wish to do is show you what I've learned. To explore these avenues of pleasuring with you. My wife. Please. Let me at least do that."

Another whimper escaped you, the only sound you could manage to make as you finally relented and nodded your head. There was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he scanned your face, eyes never leaving yours as his hand made its way under your dress and up between your legs. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan once his fingers made contact with your slick arousal, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smile.

He breathed your name, carefully studying every detail of your face as he traced up along the length of your slit, his mouth breaking out into a devilish grin when you arched your back off the bed, screaming for him when he touched the hardened bundle of nerves above your entrance. "Exquisite," he rasped, repeating the motion and causing you to let out a sharp moan. You could only manage a whimper when he started to kiss along your collarbone while those sinful fingers kept on stroking you, dipping into your warmth before making their way back to your clit.

Before long you felt a tension at your lower stomach, begging to be released. Whenever you'd reached this point in your solitude, back in the city, from your own touch, you would close your legs. The sensation was too great and you would stop yourself. Catch your breath. Having your husband situated between your legs made it impossible to close them now, his fingers still diligently stroking you. "Thomas p-please," you squeaked, struggling to breathe. "'S too m-much for me."

"Not enough," he muttered against your skin, stroking at you faster as he kissed at your collarbone. "Let go, darling. I've got you." He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your neck, flicking his tongue against the spot and letting out a whimper that sent you over the edge, your walls fluttering and clenching around nothing as he continued to stroke at your clit.

Thomas proceeded to kiss down your chest while you tried to catch your breath, pulling back his fingers from you to firmly hold on to your hips, pinning you to the bed as his lips descended further down. You uttered his name in a breathless question, your heart beating even faster when his hands moved to hike your underdress up your legs and place your thighs on his shoulders.

"I'm not done yet," he said with a whimper, kissing his way up your inner thigh and looking up to meet your eyes, his pupils blown out so wide his eyes were near black. Shining with a sincerity that stole what air remained from your lungs. "I wish to taste you."

"Thomas what are you--Oh!" You arched your back off the bed once more, letting out an obscene moan as he licked up your entrance and closed his mouth around the oversensitized nub above it. The sight of his onyx curls subtly moving with every bob of his head, his hands grasping your thighs to keep you in place, immediately burned itself into your memory.

You would remember every devastatingly pleasurable moment of tonight for as long as you'd live. Remember him.

It wasn't long before he brought you to the brink of orgasm again, mercilessly flicking his tongue against you until you came undone, your husband making you ride his tongue while you came down from your high. Soft groans slipped from his mouth while he licked away at your release, kissing along your inner thighs again when he brought the fabric of your underdress over your legs again.

There were no words left in your mind except one somber truth. "You're going to make a fortunate woman very happy in the future, Mister Sharpe."

Thomas couldn't sleep that night, holding your sleeping form in his arms as he absently stroked at your hair. His life felt like a stick of dynamite that could set off and crumble around him at any moment now; while he allowed himself to feel a touch of relief that soon he would finally be free from Lucille and her wretched ways, that freedom came at a heart-wrenching price.

You.

Your words before you went slack in his hold haunted him, ringing constantly in his mind now like an eerie church choir. You're going to make a fortunate woman very happy in the future, Mister Sharpe.

His day ended the same way it began, watching your peaceful features as your head rested on his chest. With him speaking words he hoped would somehow reach you in your dreams. "I want to make you happy, Y/N." He didn't bother fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes as the thought slammed into him that this may very well be the last night he had with you.

And then you would disappear from his life. You'll be free from me, too.

"I don't want to be free of you," he whispered through the suppressed sobs. "I wish to be free with you. I love you, Y/N Sharpe." He pressed his lips to your forehead, a tear rolling down his cheek as he did so. "Please don't leave me."

A/N: In today's episode of "YN is stronger than all of us" 🥴 I know that this is super slow going but I promise there are plans to guide me through writing the rest of the series and I'll get to finishing it 🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe smut #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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collapsedglasshouses · 1 year ago

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Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 1]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Y/N has known Noah since he became her brother's best friend. Growing up with him and knowing everything about each other let to them also being close friends. But something changes between them when Y/N is moving in with them due to a water damage in her apartment and it all leads to Nick's 30th birthday party.

Warnings: NSFW 18+!, MDNI!, language, mention of marijuana, implied medication use, oral sex (female receiving), alcohol consumption, (feel free to let me know if i missed anything <3)

A/N: So this is the first work I every put onto tumblr and also the first work I every publish in English… Therefore: Pls have in mind that English isn’t my first language and I'm new to writing smut! If you have tips or tricks for me to improve my writing, pls feel free to message me! The idea was spooking around my head for a while. Be safe ppl and remember if you are under the age of 18, pls do not interact with my stuff since I’m really not comfortable with that (if i see it anyways i will block you). Now enjoy! <3

November 29, 2022 was the day everything changed…

12:34 PM; November 29, 2022

You woke up in the house where your brother and his friends lived. At the moment you kind of lived there due to water damage at your own apartment.

While the other roommates were momentarily out of the house, it was very empty and quiet around here. So it was no problem for you to get the spare bedroom. When you realised your brother was still sleeping, you tip toed down to the kitchen area where you found Jolly, Noah and Folio preparing a cake with candles.

"I think I've never seen you guys be so cute before." you mocked them while eying the cake. It was shaped like a guitar and coloured in black while being decorated with wonky red letters saying „Happy Birthday, Nick!“

You smiled to yourself before going around the kitchen counter and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge "So, when do we start tonight?" you ask your friends while sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"It depends on how long Jolly and Folio can distract Nick." Noah answers before walking towards you, stepping in between your legs and than grabbing a cup from the shelf above you while looking at you.

"What do you mean 'Jolly and Folio'? What about us?" you ask your brother's best friend while holding his gaze. It wasn’t unusual for you two to be close to each other since you had known Noah for ages considering his friendship with your brother Nick, but since you were living here something had changed. From sleeping in on the couch together while watching anime and waking up in each others arms to him telling you about song ideas that he didn’t tell anyone else about or those small touches you exchanged whenever no one was watching that seemed so innocent but still left you guessing.

When he finally broke your gaze and stepped back to pour himself a cup of coffee, you took a big sip out of your water bottle to drown out your thoughts before anyone noticed your nervousness.

"You two need to prepare the house while Folio and I go equipment shopping with your brother." Jolly explains before you hear a shuffling upstairs, causing you all to become quite and stare at the stairs while gathering around the cake which candles were quickly lit by Jolly. It didn’t take long before your brother wobbled down the stairs and came to a hold when he saw you four standing in front of his cake smiling.

"Happy Birthday, Nick!" you all shout in union while Nick rubbed his eyes and took a couple of tired steps towards you before blowing his candles. "What are you guys planning? You act like fucking robots." he mumbles while Folio cut the cake into small pieces.

"Can't we just be grateful that mom brought you into this world 30 years ago?" you said before hugging him tightly. "Jesus… You making me sound so old. But yeah… Definitely… Even though Folio looks like you stapled that smile onto his fucking face"

The guys quickly changed the subject to not cause any further suspicion before you ate breakfast together. It didn’t take long until the three boys took of, leaving Noah and you alone to decorated the house.

You talked about anything and everything, before you asked Noah to help him hang a "Happy Birthday" sign on the wall.

You were unsuccessfully trying to reach the height the sign was supposed to go on. Before you could argue you felt arms go around your waist and shortly after that you were being lift up. You felt your pulse rise and your eyes widened. "What the fuck are you doing, Noah?" you protested - "Helping you. Now do your job."

You muttered under your breath and tried to concentrate while Noah's arms were wrapped around you. You would lie if you said you didn’t like how close he was to you but at the same time you tried to push away the way it made you feel.

"You know, I actually can’t believe Nick's thirty already. It feels like time flies by so much faster since we formed the band." Noah almost whispered while you try to concentrate on the banner before you and not how soothing his voice sounded to you. "It feels like yesterday when Nick called us to pick him up from that girl’s house because her dad caught them making out." You slightly chuckle at the memory before you signaled Noah to let you down.

"It also feels like yesterday when you called me in the middle of the night because the exact same thing happened to you and you were too proud to call Nick because you made fun of him because of said story." you reminded him while turning around and looking up into his eyes. You would never get used to the fact how tall Noah was in comparison to you. It wasn’t like you were tiny but he still was more or less a head taller than you.

"It’s not like nothing like that never happened to you, Y/N Ruffilo." he noted in a teasing voice and you exactly knew which story he meant. "Noah, you promised we would never talk about that again." - "I promised to never tell your brother that you slept with that skater jerk Michael back at your senior prom and than almost getting pregnant from it."

You remembered it clear as day how Noah drove you to the pharmacy in the early morning hours to get a Plan B and how you cried about not wanting to be a teen mom and how he comforted you by saying he would be there for the child like it was his own.

You also clearly remember your dumb crush on that Michael guy. There was this boy in your and Noah's year that you had a huge crush on since eighth grade. Michael was a skater and in retrospective he definitely wasn’t a good guy, considering his first love were definitely joints but when Noah left school at 15 to pursue his music career there was no one who stopped you from your stupid little crush, considering the fact you didn’t tell your brother because he would have hunted Michael down.

"You know I would kill you if you would even think about telling Nick." you threatened your friend and pointed a finger to his chest. Noah smirked while looking down at your hand, before grabbing the tape from your other hand and leaning to your ear. "As if you could do anything against me."

Shivers went down your spine and your heart began to beat faster while Noah left you standing there in the middle of the living room to go on with decorating. If that wasn’t enough he looked back at you and said "But at least you didn’t lose your virginity to that jerk."

You felt your cheeks burn while thinking about what he was implying. You and Noah being the same age and having such a close friendship at a phase in your live that was purely controlled by hormones, it wasn’t far off that you did in fact lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend. But you both swore that not a soul in the world would ever find out about that and managed to keep it this way to this day.

You tried to push the thoughts of the past away by biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't know what to do. Slowly but surely he was driving you insane and you didn’t even know if he was doing on purpose.

This was the moment you decided that it was best for your own good to try to avoid Noah's presence at the upcoming party. You didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship with him and therefore ruining the bond your brother had with him since ages.

11:19 PM; November 29 2022

Hours later you found yourself on the couch in the corner of the living room while the party for you brother was at its peak. You didn’t really know how many drinks you consumed, considering the fact that you took at least four shots with your brother, but you definitely started to feel the alcohol in your system while you listened to a story Bryan told you about the last tour.

You couldn’t help but think about what happened early. Noah seemingly consumed your mind. You could only think about his hands around your waist or how comfortable you two slipped into this weird situation in your friendship. When you were younger you often cuddled or were close but it all seemed so different lately and you couldn’t wrap your head around why it suddenly felt so different for you. You feared that you were imagining that change.

"I'm sorry, Bryan, but I'm not doing so well." You quickly excused yourself while standing up and making your way upstairs. You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you knew that you needed to clear your head.

You entered the upstairs bathroom, leaving the door open since no one was on this floor and looked at your self through the small mirror. Your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol you consumed and your eyes were slightly red.

You bent down and splashed a few drops of water in your face when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. "Are you okay?" Noah asked with furrowed eyebrows while placing a hand on your back, instantly sending a wave of chills down your spine.

"Yeah, yeah… Uh… I'm fine just a bit tipsy" you mumbled, drying your face with a towel before turning to face your friend.

Without even realising it you let your gaze wander and looked at Noah more closely. He wore a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, if you didn’t knew better you would say he was about to go on stage. In comparison to him you seemingly looked naked. Only dressed in a lacey black crop top and a skirt that was to short for your own good. But you were at your brother's, one of the places you felt save with wearing anything and everything.

Suddenly he raised his hand and put a strand of her behind your ear. "Do you maybe wanna watch a movie or something? You seem nervous."

You slightly look up to meet his eyes. The eyes of one of your best friends. The eyes of the boy who knew everything about you except your confusing feelings towards him. You took a deep breath and noticed his eyebrows rose for a second, before you nodded. As confused as you were, Noah was still Noah and knew exactly what he needed to do to calm your nerves. So you decided to sneak away from the party and not even an hour later you found yourself showered and in pyjamas sitting in his bed while searching for something to watch while he got ready for your sleepover.

You could still hear the music blast from outside of his room when he came back wearing sweatpants and a worn out band shirt.

"You know what you wanna watch?" Noah asks you while making himself comfortable next to you.

"You will laugh at me." - "Spirited Away?" Bullseye. Over the years Spirited Away became your comfort movie. You remember it clear as day when you first watched the movie with your brother when you were around ten. So when Noah started playing the movie all the memories you had while watching it filled your body and for a second you forgot about the weird things you've been thinking all day while snuggling into Noah's side like you always used to.

"Do you wanna tell me what has gotten into your mind?" he asked carefully when you were halfway through the movie and your heart automatically started to beat faster while you turned to look at each other.

You thought about a way to get out of this situation. You couldn’t just tell him that you had been thinking about it all day how his hands felt on your body. That would have been stupid considering the fact that you were sure you were imagining that whole atmosphere so you decided to just shake your head and look him in the eyes. Your cheeks started to feel warm and him than brushing a strand of hair behind your ear while signaling you to come closer to him didn't exactly help. You obeyed him, knowing full well he didn’t believe you, and slid closer to him until your head found its place in the crook of his neck while his arms slung around you. One around your back and the other one, to your surprise, slightly under your shirt.

"You know you can tell me everything." he said, his voice becoming a bit deeper and raspier while he started drawing circles on the exposed part of your skin. You had a feeling that you would catch fire any moment. You felt like you didn’t have any control over your body anymore. So much to your own surprise you lifted your head slightly and before you knew you placed a couple of soft kisses on this neck before stopping in your tracks and panicking. He had stopped doodling circles on your skin. Instead now he had grabbed your waist a little harsher than normal and let out a sound you last heard when you two were seventeen, a bit too drunk for you own good and definitely more naked than now.

You paused in your actions and waited for his reaction, trying to guess if you officially ruined your longterm friendship for the sake of your own amusement, but than he whispered in your ear "Why did you stop?"

Before you could think Noah turned on his back, pulling you with him so now you were sitting directly on his crotch and could feel him growing harder.

"Do you even realise what you do to me?" he almost moaned in your ear causing you to lose the last bit of clarity in your head and you kiss his neck again, more firmly than you did before.

He let out that noise again that send heavy shivers down your spine and before you could even process what was happening you grinded your hips against his. A wave of pleasure hit you when Noah began to fiddle with your shirt, silently demanding you to take it off, while slightly buckling his hips upwards. So you sat up on him and did as he demanded.

You never thought that you would every be in the position again that Noah Sebastian was looking at you like that. Pupils dilated and that look on his face that made you want to rip of his clothes.

With easiness he turned you two around so he was on top of you and took his turtleneck off, displaying all his tattoos to you that always made you weak and started kissing down your neck, than along your collarbone and eventually landed between your breasts.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he whispers against your skin causing you to moan quietly. "Fuck… Noah." You stutter while he slowly takes one of your nipples into his mouth while massaging the other with one hand. Your hands quickly found their way into his dark hair and when you pulled on it slightly he moaned against your skin.

"N-Noah.." you mumble causing him to look at you "I-…" - "Take your time, Y/N."

You took a deep breath while he stroked your skin around your waist "I need you to touch me"

Never in a million years you thought that you would say those words ever again to Noah but in this moment you needed nothing more than to feel him closer to you.

You again thought for a moment that you overstep an unspoken line because Noah stared at you for a second to long. In the exact moment you wanted to say something again he began kissing down your belly and stopped at the waistband of your panties, looking at you, searching for any kind of regret in your face but the only thing you could think about was his mouth where you needed it the most. So you buckled your hips up a little, signaling him to go on which he did with anticipation.

Noah slowly let the last bit of clothing on you slip down your legs before spreading them with his hands.

Before you could even say anything you felt his tongue against your clit and arched your back. Immediately your hands found their way back into his hair and you pulled on it, causing him to moan against your core while you nearly lost your mind.

You nearly began to sob when you felt two of his long fingers push inside of you and curve upwards. You begged that nobody would hear you scream those profanities while Noah ate you out like it was his last meal on this earth. Wet noises filled the steamy air in his room while the end credits of Spirited Away rolled in the background. You began to shake.

"Noah… I'm gonna… Noah… fuck" you cried out while trying to get a hold of yourself. You never felt this kind of way. And the fact that it was Noah making you feel that way made it even better to you.

You were a moaning mess when you came undone, grabbing Noah's hair so hard you feared you would hurt him but hearing him groan against you instead made you cum even harder.

"Oh fuck… baby… look at you… cumming so hard you can’t even contain yourself." Your body shaked as you started to come down from your high, still jerking towards Noah while he slowly kissed his way up to your face.

Your first clear thought started to form in your head when Noah was right above you looking into your eyes.

"Holy shit." - "You call it." - "Fuck." He nodded looking as surprised as you did in that moment.

You looked into his brown eyes that never left your face while he admired you. You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that came to your mind and grabbed his face before kissing him with force.

Noah sighed into your mouth while you could taste yourself on his mouth.

You knew that nothing would be the same after this but you both also knew now wasn’t the time to talk about.

So when you left Noah's arms and than his room around two hours later, when the house got quiet, with messed up hair and lips still slightly pink, you knew this would definitely have consequences…

READ PART 2 HERE

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #rpf #bad omens rpf #collapsedglasshouseswrites

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saeyoungchoismaid · 4 months ago

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Okay so I just finished my first round of Andromeda Six and here are some thoughts I have (both good and bad!). Pls feel free to comment with your thoughts or send asks or message me or whatever!! I'll update this anytime I get more info or think of smth new to add lol. Warning: obvi will contain spoilers.

The amnesia thing - I think the biggest thing for me that I wanna talk about rn is the whole royalty thing. While in general the whole thing is a really cool idea and either way I still love the plot, I think the whole 'I'm royalty' thing was WAY too obvious. Like the SECOND the a6 crew revealed where they found me, I was like "okay cool so I'm the princess got it." and then everything after that only fueled that theory (which obvi turned out to be right). Idk I just think if you're gonna have a game that's based around your main protagonist having amnesia, you need to make the player just confused as the char yk what I'm sayin? Like I shouldn't be able to know stuff that the char I'm playing as doesn't know yk? 😂

Nerissa - I think one of the biggest things for the fandom (that I've seen really only on Tumblr by the way lol) is the whole Nerissa thing so here's my two cents lol. I actually really like the plot twist of Nerissa being alive. My only thing is that it doesn't really make sense and bc she's alive, the whole thing with Vexx at the prison where he breaks down kinda gets (almost?) vetoed in response. To explain, I think it doesn't really add up that, at first, Oppo and others were like 'yeah, only the youngest princess' body wasn't found' (which in general was already weird cause ??? how do they know that her body wasn't found but then people also apparently quote unquote "didn't know she existed" like huh????). They mentioned NOTHING about the literal heir's body being missing??? Like idk if Zovack did that on purpose (and if so ???? homie wyd lmao) but if not, it's a big plot hole in my opinion lmao. Also just the fact that she was literally shot by Vexx (who held her bleeding out and dying body in his arms) and then shows up later like 'yeah no I'm completely fine actually' is CRAZY. Like what kinda medicine do these folks got that makes that so easy?? Like she's not on crutches, has a cast, a limp, like ANYTHING. It's absolutely bonkers to me. It's just very OP like okay so she can literally be shot in the future now and I literally won't react cause she's apparently immortal 💀 N e ways I think it's cool that the MC can choose to basically defy Nerissa and be like miss girl you're so wrong and I don't wanna do that is SO SLAY. Cause yeah no she was not it at first (and I lowkey didn't like her for a phat min). Also, kinda off topic, but I was surprised they actually showed what she looked like. Like, I guess her skin tone is ambiguous enough to work, but I think it would make more sense if they just said somewhere that the king had more than one wife, had a side hoe he got pregnant, yk smth like that lmao

Different species/race - As someone who has only played the game once, I'm not completely sure about what I'm about to say next, so pls correct me if I'm wrong! I think it's really cool that you get to choose from 3 different species in the beginning of the game. I was hoping that this meant that this would change your backstory, but from seeing some posts about this on Tumblr, I'm assuming this means that certain things will change but overall your backstory is the same and you're still royalty. Which is fine as long as the different species thing actually makes a difference. I just thought it'd be cool for one if it's like oh you're a human? Yeah, you're Peg'asi. Oh, you wanna be Tilaari? That's cool, but this character doesn't like you bc of it. Like that kind of thing would be super cool! Anyway, either way it's fine lol it's just a thought I had

Vexx - I haven't seen anyone say otherwise, but I personally really love Vexx and his arc/development. I never really blamed him for what he did since it was literally done against his will (and turns out Nerissa is alive anyway so it's like okay I can't even be upset that you killed her when she's literally alive). Something I will say though (which is kinda similar to my stance on the amnesia thing) is that I think it'd be nice to have a little more doubt on whether or not Vexx is on our side or not. Like, when you first find him and regain your memories, he's pretty cutthroat after the shock he initially feels. After that though, anytime you see him, it'd be described as 'an emotion I can't decipher crosses his face' or 'a piece of the old him flashes in his eyes' kind of thing and I was just like "yeah okay so he's good but is just being brainwashed or being blackmailed or smth." Like, there was no danger in it. Not once was I ever like "omg no he's gonna kill me/my friends/my boyfriend/etc!!!!!" Like no dude he's just a lil guy that needs help lmao. So yeah, a lil more uncertainty about him would've been super cool (or even an alt route where he really is bad and they didn't make him do anything. like there could be choices in the memory section of the game of your time in the palace where like if you were rude to him, he actually betrayed y'all kind of thing)

Kitalpha - I might just be dumb, but when Aya was explaining her backstory about her home planet, I was a little lost. Like, I understand the basics ig, but I overall am still confused on how it actually got destroyed lol. I read the Wiki and it still kinda doesn't make sense to me. Also, the info dump they give on this (and a lot of stuff in general) is CRAZY. Like I need so much time to process what you just said and you're already laying another bomb on me lmoa. That aside, I think it's really weird that such a (apparently) major planet that (apparently) hosted a major species went supernova 10 years ago and you just never hear anyone talk about it??? Even Aya says that people kinda just forgot about it and moved on. Like girl HOW?? (Like okay yeah with the whole Zovack thing I can understand cause they got more important matters ig but he only overthrew the throne a MONTH ago like what were people doing before then lmao). It also didn't make sense to me as to why no one wanted to help them??? Like Aya explains that they were just met with closed doors from EVERYONE. Like why??? What about a dying planet/species is so bad that people are like 'yeah, that sucks and all, but we aren't gonna help. Good luck w that tho! 🥰' Also, I saw someone on here say that they wish there was more definitive features for the Kitalphan than just having gills and I agree! I didn't even notice that Vexx had them for the longest time. Also the fact that we never get a scene where Aya/you/Vexx get to actually use them (to my knowledge anyway) is insane. Like, what's even the point of giving them the gills then??? lmao

Update: I found this post that explains more in detail about the races. "It was, despite that, their own choice as to whether to live above or under water, and those who chose to do so submerged, had their bodies altered to further adapt to their environment; webbed fingers and toes, bright colored skins to allow for better camouflage among sea life, nictitating membrane over their eyes. Those who chose to live inland, on the other hand, kept to the more human appearance, with only the gills telling the difference." So, from my understanding, those who choose/chose to live underwater are the ones that are more fish like whereas the ones who choose/chose to live on ground are the ones who look like Vexx and Aya (more humanoid looking but still fish-like qualities like gills). Still think it would be cool if we could then meet a Kitalphan that chooses to live underwater!!

Time - speaking of it only being a month, it's only been a MONTH bro???? Like, Zovack overthrew the throne, had the entire Peg'asi family killed, you've been with the A6 crew trying to regain your memories, visit like 4 planets, find love, discover your sister is alive, and start planning out your plans for a war all in ONE MONTH. Like, ig it's not super inaccurate, it's just kinda crazy yk? 😂 I saw someone say that they wished we could've spent more time on all the planets and I completely agree. For some like Orion, it makes sense that we couldn't really stick around lmao. For others though, I didn't understand why there couldn't be more downtime ig? Idk maybe it's as simple as there's nothing interesting enough to write about that will keep the player's attention that's not just boring filler? But eh idk how much I believe that. Instead of info dumping a lot of stuff, they could've spread it out for moments like these where like yeah we aren't exploring this planet or whatever necessarily, but we are learning more lore while we are here getting gas lol. Also the fact that other planets get mentioned but we don't actually get to see or learn anything about them. I can't think of any examples off the top of my head (but if anyone really wants I can go through the logs to find them), but like planets or stations they'd stop to refuel or whatever just never really get talked about. I think there was a place that was similar to Teranium or Cersa that everyone was like 'omg be careful here like don't wander off alone' and then like nothing happens (or am I crazy and mixing my stuff up and I'm just yappin??? lmao. I'll probs come back and edit this once I play the game again). (I actually think it might've been the pitstop they mentioned that was ruled by mercs so they probs wouldn't have any problems with the K'Merii. Maybe it's the place they're supposed to go to on their way to Goldis?? Cause isn't it that the place that Khandar (help is that their name??? Google isn't telling me his name help pls 😭) said he has contacts??)

Damon - I'm so down bad for this man it's not even funny. His route is the first and only route I've done so far and I really just have one thing to critique I suppose. I fell in love w his char bc he's this super tough, mysterious, elusive guy that teases the shit outta you and just in general dgaf lmao. When you choose his route, pretty much all of that goes out the window. Now, don't get me wrong here. I still love Damon and I love that we get to see his sweeter/softer side, but I don't like how his bad boy side kinda just disappears. Like, maybe in chap 9/10 it'll show up more, but since choosing his route, he's kinda just become a big ol softy (which again I love that about him but I just kinda miss mean Damon lmao). Like, when the whole Wren thing happened, I feel like as soon as Wren points the gun in our face, OG Damon would've gone FERAL. Like, even if knows he can't actually like stop them or whatever by fighting, like just starting to mouth off to get attention off of us would've been so UGH. Idk maybe this is just a me thing bc I like crazy men but yeah would've liked more consistency ig in that aspect?? lmao. Like, there was one point in the game where I lowkey almost didn't choose Damon cause he was such an asshole (and almost went w the other loml Bash). Like THATS THE ENERGY IM HERE FOR. Make him a morally grey char and stick w it yk what I mean? Yes, he has walls up and he's actually very sweet and care about his found family and has a soft spot for cats and blah blah blah, but you also need to remember his upbringing and why he is the way he is ykkkkk

June - Maybe this gets explained later or more in his route, but when he's explaining his backstory and who he is, I was a little stumped. I mean, he wonders the exact same thing, but why is it that he can withstand the testing that was done to him and is now a super human, but his own twin brother and soldiers and whoever can't. What makes him so special? I figured he was able to become this super human and the K'Merii and whoever couldn't bc he was being tested on when he was still in the womb. Again though, if this is the case, why did his brother not make it? Would love to know more about that whole thing

Okay I'll stfu for now...but I'm sure I'll be back LMAO

#andromeda six #andromeda 6 #andromeda #a6 #rant #vent #hot takes #unpopular opinions #? lmao

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lightwing-s · 2 years ago

Text

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes.

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though.

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city.

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around.

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer.

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately.

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back.

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making.

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat, admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair, exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of.

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer.

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there”

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck.

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave.

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction.

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips.

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer.

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely.

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was.

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck.

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before.

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips.

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release.

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster.

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart.

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter.

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud.

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along.

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release.

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that.

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man.

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release.

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again.

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt.

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer.

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested.

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader

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wren-dy-flowergarden · 1 year ago

Note

Salutations!

So... um... I'm kind of sick and am in desperate need of Sebek Zigvolt fluff.

How about a Fem!Reader who takes care of Sebek when he's sick, please?

I've read your other works and I absolutely love them 🫶🫶

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ A/N: HIHI! Im crying' over here Im so happy you read my other works too even though they aren't twst fandom. I just love writing. ALSO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. Ya know I was just going to make it head cannons but here is a whole ass story cause it's super late and I could not stop on this one while writing it. I really hope that the characterization is right, I don't know that much about Sebek. BUT I hope you enjoy and thank you for being my very first request! ✧.*✦ *.✧.* *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Sebek x f!Reader *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Word Conunt: 2.3k <- yes 2k more so pls enjoy *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ Tags: sickies in bed, indirect kissing, ungodly thoughts and confused feelings, slightly hidden fluff, in denial about feelings

───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ───────────────

The moment there is enough peace on campus to hear your inner thoughts you know something was out of place.

The first couple of periods rushed through with mild amusement. Grim snoring on your left and occasionally a new note would come from Ace across from you making comments about how 'boring' the lecture is.

The usual, but someone was missing in your day.

Next, lunch went with a suspicious calm. No major fights, a couple forkfuls of food splattered in glory across the table from missing its targets, casual conversation, and nothing more.

Usually, lunch is more...

Noisy?

You couldn't find the answers until you saw Lillia who taps your shoulder out of your daydreams. You let out a small gasp waking up to reality, "Lilia! Don't do that- you scared me half to death."

A small fang pokes out of his smile, "Why I'm only here to deliver a message." He puts his hands up in mock surrender, "The small one Sebek is out with a cold right now. Tucked right into bed."

It was like a lightbulb going off. The boisterous energy that would usually interject into your day leading to ridiculous jabs at each other, Sebek, was missing.

No wonder you felt so off.

"He wouldn't keep quiet when I told him to rest. Saying things quite out of place-" he leans closer to you whispering into your ear in a small voice, "' Where is she? Where is (Y/N)?'"

You can feel the tips of your ears burn but you hope your face doesn't give anything away as Lillia breaks away a little happy smile on his face, "Why it seems he is quite fond of you."

Before you could even retort he quips in, "He's up on the second floor at the dorm. Passed out after I cooked him my famous soup!" He waves walking down the hallway, "Keep well!"

He disappears around a corner and you take a deep breath. Sebek sounds delusional, and you can imagine it has to do with something he ate, especially since Lillia cooked it up.

You hear the warning bell and you scamper off to class.

Later today you give him a visit…

Just to make sure he was alright.

Wallet slightly lighter and a fresh chicken noodle soup you step into Diatom's lounge. You're thankful there is barely anyone here right after school, you are even more thankful Jade didn't even bat an eye when you asked for the rushed order before the kitchen was even open. In fact, he just smiled…calmly…

There was more to dissect on that another day.

Winding up the stairwell, you come to a hallway filled with similar wooden doors all facing one direction. The only difference was a small name plate etched into each forehead of the door. The back of your heel clicked down the cobblestone.

"Sebek, Sebek- ah there, Zigvolt."

A knock for life, you hear a groan like one of those zombies in the movies.

"Hey Sebek we uh-" you think about your words before they spill out how much today actually felt off without him, "I heard you were sick!"

You joke raising the bag of soup up as he could see through the door, "I brought you something a little 'better' than Lilia's cooking!" It was more to test how healthy Sebek was and you did not even hear a response.

Wow, he really must be dying.

You crack the door open peeking your head through. Clumps of tissues were littered on the floor along with some plastic bottles and a different assortment of cups and medicine on his nightstand. What you could assume is a mound of a person was huddled into a little ball underneath the sheets.

You walked through carefully avoiding the snot-filled tissues on the ground, "Sebek, hey. How are you feeling?" You tug the edge of the sheet just to let him know there is a healthy presence of life here, "I brought some soup. Really cost me an arm and a leg (yet),"

A shift of the blanked and another groan escapes him, full of snot he lets out a sneeze. He shifts his body to barely peeking out of the blankets, "You cough you're here?" He says it with no bite, but more of wonderment.

It makes your heart melt just a little.

The two of you have been playing this game recently… where he would make an effort to find you and "train mentally" against you. For what training, you still never understood, but it is a usual constant 'noisy' flow of Sebek. Sometimes he brings you extra lunch saying his enemy couldn't give him an easy win when you weren't having a good day. Other times, he might come to do his homework prideful when gets a question right before you and indignant when you need to teach it to him.

…It was obvious you were playing a game. The shy looks went as you both glance over each other, the constant quarrels that you two would get into and it would slowly fade to each other's company. It was even apparent to Silver, yes Silver that you two have been dancing around each other's toes! He said, 'You two are like the old couples in the valley.'

No, you weren't, this development was by Sebek only! It had nothing to do with you and you became a little closed off and a little more cold and you ignored what was hurt on Sebek's face because how could you recognize that emotion if you did not know him well.

A creak breaks you from your daydreams, "(Y/N)…how cough a human like you is going to get sick." You give a soft laugh sitting by the edge of the bed, "Well, it's pretty incredible you're this sick with your genetics, though maybe it's a blessing that I am human- got to have a better immune system than you."

A gaggle of annoyance, "Not- cough true. You're really cough weak."

You roll your eyes, "Obviously since I'm sick in bed right now. Here you should eat." You step near the nightstand to make some room for the bag gently cracking the tape around the lid of the soup. It smells fantastic.

"Here sit up so you can eat."

He doesn't move or at least maybe he tried to because you hear a grunt. What a baby. You place the soup on the nightstand and reach for the covers of his bed pulling it just to be met by resistance.

"Sebek, come on you have to eat."

"I- no hack la-later would be fine."

"But it's going to get cold!"

"Its! It's fine! I cough like it cold…?"

What a liar. He may be able to lift eight chairs but you have the power of surprise on your side. Your hold lessens on the sheets.

"Alright…then I'll come back later."

He relaxes underneath the sheets, "…really?"

Your grip tightens against the sheets again, "Pshhh NO!"

Sheets wave in the air with also a couple of tissues and oh no was that his phone? It's alright though because you won this one and you look down to hopefully see indignation on Sebek's face but…he's- oh completely naked from the top up.

Strongly lined abs with traces of sweat falling down the lines of etched muscles, the way his pecs were peaking due to the sudden rush of cold air, and his collars dipped nicely really painting the picture of a perfect man. Your eyes meet with Sebek's and he has red forming around the edge of his face from the fever! It's the fever…

The sheets slowly cascade down and messily cover his perfect body his shoulders and head now peeking through.

Was it hotter in here your throat feels more dry as you chide him in fake authority, "You- you should really sit up and eat." You glance at the soup the steam still leaking out, "I'll help you!"

It's only a ten-second break to calm your thumping heart as you balance the soup in your hands reaching for a spoon inside the remnant of the bag. You face back and Sebek is now sitting up slightly against the headboard, sheets tucked in like a modest princess above his chest, the face still red.

You make a place facing him, he won't meet your eyes and to be honest, you really can't meet his. But it's not like you haven't seen guys at the beach before, or even at home when it was too hot of a day. The soup swirls in its paper-like container as you lift the spoon up.

"Here say ah."

He doesn't, mouth still shut, ears tingling red. You knew this look it was when you got the question right first when you won.

But that really didn't matter right now.

You lower the spoon, "Alright. Fine. I'm sorry I took your sheets from you." You don't think about how hot he is and continue on, "It's really yummy soup though. I think that you should have some."

To prove your point you blow on a spoonful and dip it into your own mouth, you try not to think of why his eyes won't leave the spoon. It pops out of your mouth, "See better than Lilias."

His eyes furrowed, "You- you can't say anything about cough Lilia-sama." He nodded towards a half-empty bowl on the nightstand, "See! His food is hack delicious." He really must be delirious because the bowl is caked on black with thick goo hardening in it. You don't fight him though, because this is the first real response you got out of him.

You nod, "Yes yes, then you should be able to finish this too?" Another dip into the mixture, "Say ah."

He looks so reluctant like a cat being sprayed with water, but slowly he opens his mouth, "..ah"

You place the spoon in his mouth and you see the way his teeth are a little sharper than yours clink on the spoon, mouth closing around it before a little pop as you pull out.

Your ears start heating as well, you hope you're not getting sick also.

It's almost done when you can touch the bottom of the soup bowl and Sebek has been quite well-behaved the past couple minutes. After the last bite, you pack the trash and a couple of the tissues are littered around in the bad crinkling it shut.

The air was tight.

"I…I should get going." You try to find any excuse to get out, "Grim- he um- need to be fed! Yeah, so I should go back to Ramshackle."

Sebek knew you well enough to hear a shifty excuse so you believed that was the reason he grabs your hand before you can leave, "Wai- Wait!" he hacks into his other arms elbow, "I want- I-." He takes a deep breath his voice becoming less choppy, "They say I need to say "sincerities" when it's my loss…so cough for a small human like yourself coming here I- hack thank you…"

It's the first thank you he has ever given you and you feel this is more than just a 'thanks for taking care of me'. It felt more about the two of you. In truth and honesty, you were the ones who took the first step away from him, even though you may have something more akin to 'feelings' than the general source of friendship you have with your other friends.

You needed to take the first step.

You gave a small smile, "Oh, the great Sebek is thanking a 'small human' like me." You walk up to his bedside, him still sitting in the same position as before. You're close as you lean down only inches away, "Well then, you're welcome Sebek."

You give a small kiss, right on the side of his cheek, just a peck before Sebek has time to process in his foggy brain.

You are already out the door the time you hear a loud holler from his bedroom. Your face was burning red but it felt nice to finally start exploring these feelings.

A couple days later and Sebek was back in action.

Though, he was with you almost 24/7. Even in the evening, he stayed for extra study lessons, more than usual. It went on like that for a couple weeks.

Of course, you are a little slow to the advances of Sebek and it took Lilia (again) to really make the pieces fall in order. It was just a casual conversation

"I'm glad the dear is a little more open about you, why he was such in denial that he even made the excuse to see you as "mental training"!" Lilia laughs and you do your best to add on the conversation.

"Well he's getting better at math now so maybe he will be teaching me about potions soon."

Lillia laughs even harder now at your response and you tut, potions were difficult alright? He seems to read your face with the knowledge of a sage and wipes a nonexistent tear from his eye, "No you are mistaken dear. He said something across the lines, 'My heart keeps thumping around (Y/N) and I need to fix it!'." He grins, "Why he was such a cutie saying that, so in denial back then- you ask well."

Your face is flush, cheeks a rosy red. And comedic timing comes when you least expect it because Sebek is racing down the halls toward the two of you. He grips your face between gloved hands, your face squished together, "Your face is evenly red… ARE YOU SICK!?"

Your words are muffled together, "Nomhrooo mmmmh fhhine Sebrekkk!" You pull his hands away from you, "I'm fine!"

Lillia looks completely amused by this and just has to open his mouth, "Why Sebek, (Y/N) was just telling me how she felt a little under the weather today."

"What no! I'm fine Sebek, really."

He doesn't believe you of course and that day you're carried in his arms to the infirmary him muttering how a pitiful human like you should be more careful all through a crowded hallway.

God, what were you going to do with the both of you?

#.wwrenwrites #twst x reader #twst x you #twst wonderland #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #reader insert #requests are open #I probably won't write this long for a request again but it was nice to try and do character writing hehe.

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endofradio · 1 month ago

Text

TRUE ECOLOGY — CHAPTER 6: I MET THE BEAST

WARNINGS: n/a

NOTES: please this took me FOREVER to write i am so sorry school has been kicking my ass 😭😭😭 also why are my chapters getting progressively longer. i guess taking forever to write is a good thing because i seem to like. Write more 💀

SUMMARY: after waking up, salem joins her family for an awkward breakfast. as she goes throughout her day, it seems that könig is always in her vicinity. they encounter each other in the forest, and right as things start getting intense, her parents show up. her father convinces her to work as a receptionist at the resort.

WORD COUNT: 2,746

TAGLIST: @trelaney @spookyspecterino @13th-floor-in-moonstone @lokidoki9 @creelkobblelaufeyson69 @fran-tau @visceralbite @crispysafetensors @kolcheksluver @actually-adambarrett @that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast (message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist! commenting is also fine)

reblogs and comments are heavily appreciated! pls don’t be shy.

When Salem woke up the next morning, she realized that she felt horribly... lonely for some reason. As the memories of the night before slowly began to come back to her, that was when everything clicked together. Ah, right... her tryst with König.

And then, along came the guilt again. What had happened between them... it wasn't supposed to have occurred. Yet, at the same time, Salem found herself genuinely missing König's presence. That night, he'd made her feel things she didn't believe she'd ever feel. So now, he was infesting her mind like a parasite.

She wasn't sure whether she hated it or not.

As she finally moved to sit up, Salem realized that she smelled of cologne, specifically König's cologne. The scent was oddly comforting and pleasant, containing hints of a musky, earthy kind of odor. It was... a mysterious smell, suitable for a mysterious individual. Mysterious and sophisticated.

As much as Salem liked the smell, she knew that she had to wash it off. If either of her parents noticed it on her, they'd certainly have a couple of questions. So, she slowly hauled herself out of bed, almost instantly noticing a slight ache in her body as she walked to the bathroom to get in the shower.

Unfortunately, showering proved to be useless. If anything, it almost seemed to enhance the cologne scent. Oh, well. She'd figure out some kind of excuse to make up.

Then, she looked at herself in the mirror, and that was when she noticed the occasional small bruises here and there on her neck and collarbone — another reminder of what had taken place between her and König. Wearing a turtleneck during springtime wasn't something Salem normally did, but it seemed that she'd have to make an exception for today, perhaps the whole week.

Once she changed into her outfit for the day, Salem joined her family in the café for breakfast.

The moment that she arrived, the first thing her parents noticed was her outfit.

"A turtleneck?" Louise asked, her eyebrow raised. "It's quite warm, you know. Wouldn't you much rather be comfortable?"

Salem shrugged as she pulled out a chair, taking a seat at their table. "Just felt like wearing something different." She answered. "Anyway, what's for breakfast?"

"Belgian waffles and French toast," Stephen replied. "Eat up before it gets cold."

For a couple of minutes, the family ate in awkward silence, like there was something on their minds. Eventually, Stephen broke the silence, looking at Salem with a perplexed but intrigued expression.

"Is that cologne you're wearing?" He questioned. "Since when do you wear cologne?"

Salem shrugged again, avoiding her father's gaze. "I just liked the smell, that's all. I... enjoy bolder scents."

"You don't even wear perfume all that much. Only sometimes."

She sighed, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. "How's work? I've been... forgetting to ask."

"It's been... nice," Stephen answered, taking a bite of French toast. "Moved out of my apartment a couple of months ago to buy this nice house in Füssen. Though, for this vacation, I decided to check out one of the suites at the resort."

"What do you think?"

Stephen smiled a little. "Very nice. Everything is extremely top-quality."

Salem nodded. "Yeah... I agree. You said you work in a laboratory, right? In the hospital? What's that like?"

Almost immediately, Stephen's demeanor changed, as though Salem had hit a nerve somehow. The smile on his face faded in the blink of an eye.

"I... assist with research." He answered. "Anything else, I can't tell you. That's all confidential information."

"Oh. Uh... sorry for asking, then."

"How did you sleep last night?" Stephen then asked. "You must've had a bad nightmare."

"I slept... fine."

"Well, that's good to hear."

A couple of more minutes of awkward silence passed by before Stephen spoke up again. This time, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

"Are you wearing Tom Ford? I... believe that's what König wears."

Shit.

"Coincidence, I guess."

Stephen tilted his head. "How did you even get your hands on that stuff?"

"I went shopping."

Stephen nodded. "Ah. Interesting."

The combination of Salem wearing a turtleneck and smelling of König's cologne probably seemed suspicious, which... it did, to Stephen at least.

"You smell like my boss and you're wearing a turtleneck. In spring. Are you... certain that's a coincidence?"

Salem replied with an "mhm" as she took a bite of her waffle. "What are you trying to insinuate? He's twice my age. I'm not into that."

"Good. Otherwise, I'd be concerned."

Even though Salem felt relieved at his response, Stephen didn't look quite convinced. Deciding not to press for more answers, he simply just switched the conversation topic.

"How have you been enjoying your first week at the resort?"

"I think I'm going to miss it here when we leave," Salem answered. "I'd live here if I wasn't so attached to home.

Stephen finally smiled again. "Germany's a beautiful place, isn't it? I had a feeling you'd warm up eventually. Maybe one day you and Louise could come live here."

Louise chuckled. "Ah, I'd get too homesick."

"How much longer are we staying here, anyway?" Salem then asked Louise. "I can't remember if you said anything specific."

"One more week." She answered.

Oh.

"That's... it?"

Louise nodded, her expression now slightly confused. "I thought you'd be pleased. You didn't want to come here at all, remember?"

"Oh... yeah, you're right. Not like there are any friends I've made here, anyway. Nobody I'd miss."

Salem tried to mask her disappointment. Louise was right — she didn't want to come here in the first place, but she'd made the mistake of getting a little too close to König. Why did she even care, anyway? He probably saw her as nothing but just a simple fling. At least, on her end, it didn't seem like he had any actual feelings.

But, what did she know? She hardly had any experience with relationships, right?

Throughout the rest of the day, it seemed like Salem saw more of König than she ever had during her stay at the resort. Almost everywhere she went, he seemed to be in her vicinity, either talking to people or simply keeping in the background. She saw him talking to Sabina in the lobby. When she went to relax in the lounge, he was chatting with a family at a table. When she went outside for one of her photography walks, he was wandering along a trail in the distance.

Everywhere Salem went, it seemed König was right there too.

She was still in the forest, having not seen him for close to an hour when she suddenly felt a hand firmly touch her shoulder, causing her to tense up almost immediately.

"Taking pictures again?"

It was König.

Salem turned around to look up at him, her heart racing instinctually. Why did being around him make her feel this way all the fucking time?

"Uh... yeah."

It was like she suddenly couldn't speak anymore. Just one look into those eyes of his, and it felt as though he was prying her open with just his gaze, peering through every part of her soul.

And then, he started to run his fingers along Salem's neck in a manner that seemed like he was inspecting her, studying her as though she was some sort of specimen.

"You know, I've been... waiting to see you again."

That single sentence had Salem feeling like her lungs were suddenly being constricted.

Did he miss me?

"Well, I've... seen you a lot today. Everywhere I've gone, you've been there too."

As he continued to gently stroke her neck, König chuckled lightly. "Ah, I was just... doing my job, that is all."

His answer was intentionally somewhat vague.

No, he wasn't going to tell Salem that he wanted to keep her nearby; he'd leave her to figure that out herself. Sure, he was only going to confuse her even more, but admitting whatever he was feeling would only make him feel weak and uncomfortable for showing just a hint of vulnerability. Besides, he couldn't risk scaring her off. He had to play his cards right.

And now, Salem was beginning to tremble just a little. König's touch was like electricity, sending jolts up her spine whenever his fingers danced along her skin.

She found herself slowly moving her hand up towards his face. Suddenly, she stopped, took a step backward, and silently scolded herself.

No. Have some self-control.

König tilted his head at her in a curious manner, though there was a hint of hurt that momentarily flashed in his eyes. It was like he wanted her touch, which he certainly did.

"Why are you afraid?" He asked, stepping closer to her. "There's no need to be."

Why was Salem hesitating? She already crossed a line with him once, yet she couldn't even bring herself to touch his face. Perhaps it was the fact she was still convinced that this was all wrong, that a part of her still felt guilty for allowing herself to get so close to him.

Yet, she couldn't deny that another part of her secretly wanted to experience that all again. Was this what it was like to desire someone? Was that what she was feeling — some kind of secret desire? Of course, she couldn't understand. She had never experienced a sense of desire before... but maybe she was now.

This was all... new to her, and it was unnerving. She had never done anything like this with anyone. Close connections were something she couldn't quite comprehend just yet.

"I feel like I'm doing something wrong."

"Wrong, hm?" König repeated, his eyebrow raised. "And why is that?"

"I'm... too young for you, you're—" Salem began, only to be cut off.

"That didn't stop you, did it? You could've stopped me at any moment, but you didn't."

That made her go quiet. Satisfied with her wordless response, König stepped even closer, his expression carrying a slight hint of smugness.

"Hm, did it feel wrong when you were saying my name?" He asked. "When you were... begging me not to stop? Ah, Americans are so... puritanical."

Reluctantly, Salem shook her head, still not saying a single word. It hadn't felt wrong to her, but she couldn't bring herself to verbally admit it.

König slowly nodded, letting out a quiet hum. "That's what I thought." He murmured. "You've done nothing wrong, my dear. Just let yourself feel."

Just let yourself feel.

"Listen to what your heart is telling you."

And Salem's heart was telling her to reach out and gently touch his face. Nobody was watching, after all. She didn't have anything to worry about, right? But at the same time, she feared getting caught.

I'll just have to be careful.

Slowly, she reached up again, this time allowing herself to not hold back. The second her hands made contact with his skin, König's gaze instantly began softening. All it took was Salem's touch to have him completely mesmerized.

For someone who had minimal experience with men, perhaps just only a few crushes at most, Salem believed that König was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. It was ironic; she could have any man in the world, yet here she was, drawn to a mysterious German man twice her age like a moth to a flame. He was tall with a pretty face and a hypnotic stare, the kind of man she'd expect to have a myriad of women throwing themselves at his feet. Yet, he appeared to be alone, not wearing even a single ring. Was she right to be mildly surprised?

Not to mention, Salem could understand by the look in König's eyes that gentleness was unfamiliar to him. He was looking at her with almost something similar to fascination. Then, that slightly smug look made a return to his face.

"Now, does this feel... wrong?" He quietly asked.

Salem paused. At that moment, it felt both wrong and right at the same time, a confusing combination. She shook her head anyway, and König let out a low hum of approval.

"Hm, exactly. Your feelings can't be wrong." He murmured. "After all, aren't humans... supposed to feel?"

Salem slowly nodded, her heart starting to pound in her chest.

"It's in our nature, isn't it?" König continued. "Denying your feelings, hiding them... that's going against your nature. Don't fight them. Listen to them..."

He leaned into Salem's touch, reaching out with his own hands to pull her body closer to his. He took notice of the way her eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment, her fingers gently continuing to glide along his stubble.

"Hm, I know what you're thinking. Go ahead."

Salem tilted her head. "What is it?"

"Ah, it's quite obvious," König answered. "You want to... kiss me."

Maybe she did.

"Am I... wrong?"

When Salem shook her head, König's lips curved into a small smile. Oh, how he loved being right. Seeing the sheepish expression on her face only encouraged him more.

"Well...?"

When she pressed her lips to his, König responded by pressing her back against the nearest tree. His hands were firmly planted against the bark as the intensity of the kiss quickly grew within a few moments. It seemed that a simple kiss was all that it took for König to completely unravel, almost as though Salem's lips were a drug.

If they were a drug, then he was deeply hooked. He couldn't pull away from her, only pausing the kiss for them both to catch their breath. In an instant, his lips were on hers again as he wrapped an arm around her, lifting her up and pressing her more firmly against the tree.

"Hm, how about this? Does this feel wrong?"

Before Salem could offer an answer, König gently pulled down the collar of her turtleneck. His lips were mere inches away from her neck, but then somebody suddenly spoke.

"Salem!"

It was Stephen.

König muttered to himself and placed Salem back down on the ground, trying to straighten himself up as quickly as possible. Nothing happened, right? He and Salem were just having a chat, that was all.

Cursing under her breath, Salem tried her best to put on a façade that suggested nothing had happened in the past few minutes.

"Ah, there you are," Stephen spoke with a small smile as he approached the pair. "We've been looking for you. Figured we'd find you in the forest, seeing as it's become your... favorite place."

His eyes shifted between his daughter and Konig, suspicion evident in his gaze. He wasn't naive — he'd noticed how close they already seemed. He was growing concerned, and rightfully so.

But... he knew better than to say anything. So, his expression promptly took on a more polite appearance before he spoke again.

"I'm actually quite glad to see you here, König. There's something I'd like to discuss."

König's eyes held a hint of annoyance as if silently communicating to Stephen that he and Louise had interrupted something. After a few seconds, he quickly smiled, but his politeness lacked authenticity.

"Hm? What might that be, Stephen?"

Stephen's gaze then switched back to Salem. "I'll admit that I've been starting to... worry about you. Don't you think you spend your time in the forest a little too much?"

Salem opened her mouth to speak, but that was when König chimed in.

"Ah, I understand your concern, my friend. If it reassures you, she has been safe in my company."

Stephen gave the man a small smile, but he did not respond to him. Instead, he continued to speak to Salem.

"How about you get a job here at the resort? That way you're in a... secure environment. Perhaps you could work at the reception desk."

"You know I'm not good at talking to people."

Stephen sighed. "I know, but it's a simple job. Sabina will help you."

König hummed quietly. "She's... not fond of working at night," he added. "I'm certain she'll be relieved with some company. Salem can work the later shifts with her. Six to eleven, does that sound alright?"

With the way her father was staring at her, Salem felt like she wasn't allowed to refuse. So, she just simply nodded.

"Yeah, sure. That's fine with me."

Stephen’s smile grew slightly. "Wonderful. Could she start tonight, perhaps?"

"Of course."

#true ecology #horror movies #horror #dan stevens #cuckoo #cuckoo 2024 #horror fanfiction #herr könig #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics

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penvisions · 10 months ago

Text

garnish {chapter 8}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: A routine gets settled as you spend more and more time of yours in Joel's home. Sharing your lives in a new and exciting way. But of course, your streak of bad luck continues in a way you never could've expected.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: stress, stressful work environment, secret relationship, power dynamics (due to work hierarchy), past trauma, family trauma, academic language, reader is in college, age gap, stalker, stalking, ultimatums, reader is so stressed, talk of pregnancy, braxton hicks doing the lords work of stressing everyone out, tommy makes an appearance, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, smoking, allusions to cheating, dishonest language, racy photos, sexting, cigarettes, tobacco, outburst, sexual content, smut, unprotected p in v, reader has an iud, secret sex, sex in the workplace, oral, f receiving oral, cum eating (!), joel is a sexual menance, dirty talk, sweet talk, um if i missed anything let me know?

A/N: so, the first week of this year has thoroughly kicked my ass, but i've been distracting myself with finishing up this fic. i hope y'all like this new chapter, pls don't be mad at the ending, feel free to (kindly and not really)yell at me in the comment or even message me c:

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Joel carried your unconscious form up the stairs, the weight of how different this time was compared to all the others before. Before you weren’t broken. Before it was all desperate kisses and the peeling off of clothes to get to the skin underneath. Before it was all sleepy mumblings as you had insisted on a movie only to fall asleep against him within the first half hour. Before it had been a quiet shadowing of each other after a long day of work. A refuge found in his room, all warm tones and soft sheets, softer skin underneath wandering hands.

But this time, this now, was so unlike all the times before. It was heartache and worry that permeated his very skin. Had been consuming him from the second he got that call you would be late because of a meeting with the man who visited you at the bar, who sent warning bells ringing within his mind.

It was after.

After the distance you had put between them for three days that he tried to respect. After the times he didn’t ask about the meeting, knowing you would tell him on your own if you wanted to. After he chased away an intruder that was determined to take what they wanted from you. After he fired that inane cook for his behavior toward you, citing all of instances he had failed to mesh into the atmosphere and environment he had painstakingly created in his restaurant. After he rushed to you, only to find you looking so small and alone in your apartment with a set of stitches he felt at fault for. After he saw you crumble in on yourself and reveal the broken pillars you had been trying to maintain.

You had seemed to calm, so quiet as you talked about your childhood. About a woman who tore you down before you could even begin to build yourself up. About a man who let her, who was supposed to care for you and protect you. A family that saw you as a burden to pass around. About a professor who was sworn to teach and provide a safe environment for his students. Who was abusing that power to protect the man who was targeting you now.

He tried to connect all the puzzle pieces that fell from your mouth in such a calm, matter of fact manner.

He tried to make sense of it all, his head pounding and his heart thudding as he laid you down in his bed and fixed the blankets around you the way he knew you liked. The softest one that normally rested over the comforter, slipped in between the sheets so the plushness of it brushed against your skin. A softness you craved in every aspect of your life but could only seem to find in the comfort of a measly blanket at the end of each day.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he cradled your face in his hands and wiped away the tears that had made tracks down your cheeks. Silent ones that had alarmed him as you fell apart in such a controlled way right in front of him. And he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing to help. His words had fallen on deaf ears, on resolute thoughts that this is what you deserved.

Joel sat there, silent tears of his own falling from bleary eyes as his heart ached for you. Resting his forehead against yours, he peppered kisses all over your face, he tried to make it right. He could only hope he was doing right by you, doing you more good than harm. You’ve had enough of that in your life, he was slowly learning.

Thinking back on his own girls, the ones he protected from bullies over not having mothers. The ones he protected over accusations that they weren’t wanted, that Joel was a poor substitute for a guardian. The ones that he cared for the second she was born and the second he realized one had been abandoned at a park. A mother that had been ill, hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, hadn’t wanted her daughter to know. A mother who had seen how Joel interacted with his own daughter and left a note in a coat pocket for him to find. Asking him to care for her like his own. A folder with all of her official papers loaded in the backpack she had left behind on a bench, hoping for the best of a situation she hadn’t revealed to anyone.

He ached.

For his girls. For the woman who saw him for the man he tried to be. For you.

The clock on the beside table displayed that it was late in the afternoon, bleary eyes looking around the darkened room. Joel was nowhere to be seen, no sign of him having been beside you, the covers wrapped around you and the other side of the bed cold to the touch when you reached out a hand.

Oh.

Trying to tamp down on the feeling of abandonment, you slipped from underneath the covers. The house was quiet, the ticking of a clock in the living room the only sound greeting you when you descended the stairs. The trilling of a phone the next thing to signal that you were alone. Joel’s phone left atop a counter in the kitchen, but his boots and wallet were missing. Tommy’s name flashed across the screen and you set your own down beside it and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Oh finally! Someone is answering, Maria’s at the hospital now. Said she had a crawling feeling over her stomach, so we rushed in. Waiting on the doctor now.” His voice was frantic, his anxiety palpable over the line.

“Tommy, I’m sorry. I have no idea where Joel is, he left his phone behind.”

“Dammit, old man always forgetting it’s the only thing that let’s me talk to him.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“…you okay, hon?”

“I will be, do you want me to…come sit with you?”

“No, no, you just stay put. I’ll call if we need you to, okay? You’re so sweet for offering.”

A ding from the phone had you pulling it from your ear and the notification of a text peeked at you before disappearing. Then another and another. You couldn’t see anything other than the nondescript display of ‘new text message’, Joel opting to hide the details in case anyone glanced at his phone if he set it down at work.

“Okay, Tommy, everything is going to be okay.”

“Alright, hon, be in touch. Oh, and yell at my brother for me will ya? Old man leaving two important things behind in his rush for whatever pulled his attention.”

“Sure, Tommy.” You felt a small tug at the corner of your mouth.

Making coffee in Joel’s house was a start to feeling more like yourself, you enjoyed it in the backyard, watching the way the sky reflected in the pool he had installed there. Cup half empty and cell phone in hand open to an email that sent your heart racing is where Joel found you when he returned home. The sound of his tires hitting the drive not registering even as you sat outside.

His warm hand cupping your shoulder focused your eyes to the way he was kneeled in front of you with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey, darlin’,” His lips quirked up, trying to comfort you any way he could. He leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. As if waking from a dream, you lunged at him and wrapped yourself tight around him at the touch. He huffed out as his butt hit the ground but it arms encompassed you all the same, his face buried in your hair as you tucked yours into the crook of his neck.

“I’m so sorry, Joel. I just got so overwhelmed and-and-“

“Hey, woah, hey now, it’s okay.”

“T-tommy called your phone while you were gone. Said Maria had to go to the hospital.”

“I know, called ‘im as soon as I got in. Said he spoke to you and to keep an eye on you as well. Everythin’ is fine with them, false alarm.”

“He-Joel, he told me it was his brother.”

“Who told you what now?”

“My professor, the guy who’s been doing all this to me, is his brother. Said that the internship I applied for is mine if I drop the charges and ‘play nice’.” Sardonic tone coated your words as you confessed to what had happened the other day, swallowing down the shame and embarrassment to talk to the man trying to take care of you, trying to look after you.

“What the f- oh darlin’, no.”

“He-he said it was my fault because of how I was dressed and interacted with him while he was a patron at the bar. How I interact with you, playing a victim but that the attention I’m getting is deserved.”

His silence was heavy, tension coiling in his muscles as he stayed wrapped around you. Anger and the need to protect rolling off of him in waves.

“We’ll fix this, okay. We’ll…we’ll reach out to the dean, take in copies of the two three police reports we have against the guy. They can’t argue with that paperwork, and I don’t know what your professor can do other than deny it, but they have to look into it if you bring that to their attention. They have to sweet girl, we’ll make this right. I’ll help you. I’ll go up there with you.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, when he shifted a little to hold your weight more evenly, his back cracked, and he tried to muffle the response of a groan. One of your hands stretched out to caress his back, hoping to alleviate the ache there.

“Got you some stuff for the house, to make yourself more comfortable. That fancy body soap you like so much, some of your favorite candles, supplies for lil Sweet Pea, stuff to make easy meals if you feel like cookin’. Was also gonna leave a card, ‘n I know you got your own money, for takeout if you wanna do that.”

All you could do was nod and press a grateful kiss to the column of his neck.

The rest of the week goes by smoothly, you finish your finals with passing grades and go to register only to find out that there’s a hold on your academic profile. You walked into work with a weird sense of reality, everything oversaturated and too bright. Sounds too loud, stomach clenching around what little you were able to eat that morning. Nervous about being back at work, nervous about signing the paperwork that Joel had drawn up for Mary to approve of. Nervous of how everyone would greet you after your rather embarrassing departure the last time you had been in the restaurant.

The sound of the backdoor opening garnered everyone’s attention, service beginning in about half an hour. You had your stitches removed but were deemed expo for the next two weeks to work at a lighter, easier pace to get back into using your hands to full mobility. You had been so worried about losing feeling or movement in your hand, due to how the knife had dug into your skin, but the doctors had eased your worries.

Joel was just now exiting the office, Mary on his heels as they called attention for the preservice meeting.

“Alright, now, we’ve had quite a few changes happen recently.” Joel started off, nodding to you as you sidled up to the last station and gave your attention to them both. Millie rushed to your side and took her arm in both of hers and pressed the side of her body to yours in greeting. You smiled softly at her, happy to see that she wasn’t too ragged looking after what Joel had said been a challenging week.

“As you know, we had a couple of incidents leading up to the firing of a recent hire. He didn’t mesh well with the team, as y’all were witness to. It is never okay to move about the kitchen or floor without using safety words. Communication is key, it allows us all a safe place to work and move in. Please proceed the way you’ve always done so, with respect and mutual understanding toward your fellow workers.”

“And it’s been brough to my attention that there is a shift in dynamics,” Mary cleared her throat, eyes glancing at you before she announced the one thing you were the most worried about. “Joel here and our bar manager have filed the appropriate paperwork declaring their relationship status. Now, that is not to say that anything will change around here. Work is work, personal life will remain outside of the premises, but this does not give anyone the right to retaliate against either of them.”

A soft hush of murmured words broke the silence of the kitchen, eyes raking over you and then over Joel. Millie’s arms tightened around your own, her eyes looking to you with something you couldn’t quite make out.

“Now, I know this may make a few people uncomfortable.” Joel spoke up, stepping forward to get the attention of the room back. “But I assure you, everything will remain professional and appropriate. There have been no promises or conditions of this, there is nothing but the blossoming of something that warranted such an announcement. To cover my butt and hers, it’s the right thing to do and that’s why it’s been done. I know we have two other couples employed here and it’s just the same paperwork they filed.”

Well into the service of dinner, Millie kept glancing at you any time she was in the kitchen. Her eyes training from your concentrated look as you made sure food was pristine before going out to the tables and Joel who was working away behind the stove stop and grill, the furrowing of his brow and the slight downturn of his lips as he focused on his dishes being perfect to hand off to you.

“It’s lulled, gonna take a smoke break. That okay with you, chef?” Your eyes found his through the line, fingers tapping on the metal on the metal top, hands warm underneath the heat bars tucked up on the shelf. His eyes softened when they landed on you and he nodded an affirmation at you before turning back to one of the only two tickets that hadn’t been worked.

You barely light the end of your cigarette before a squealing Millie was approaching you from the closing back door.

“Oh my god, you bagged the chef!”

“Millie…”

“No, no, he’s like so ruggedly handsome and those eyes? Girl, you didn’t tell me you even liked him! Y’all been at each other’s throats but now it all makes sense! You wanted him, and he wanted you back.” She smirked over at you, hands lighting her own cigarette.

“Oh hush, dirty girl.” You tossed back, genuine smile pulling at your lips.

“But seriously, he’s good to you? I mean, he’s obviously serious about what y’all got drawing up the paperwork ‘n all.”

“He’s good to me, promise.” You take a long drag, holding in the inhale for a beat before exhaling it out in a deep sigh. “He’s helping me figure out this shit with my professor who’s telling me I can’t get the internship I’m qualified for unless I drop the police report and arrest out for his brother who attacked me.”

“No fuckin’ way, the guy who attacked you was your professor’s brother? That lowkey creepy guy who sat up at the bar with you a few times?”

“That’s the one.”

“Do…do you think if it all gets sorted out that you’ll leave the restaurant to do it?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, a full time internship and your last semester, that’s going to be a lot to juggle. You’re a TA too, right? To get teaching credits.”

“Oh, um, I haven’t really thought about it. I was maybe considering just going down to weekend nights?”

You both talked and gossiped, tossing the butts of your spent cigarettes into the pail beside the door before going back in to finish the shift.

“Fuck.” You moaned, the sound filling the cool air of the walk in, back arching as you tried to push back against the man who had sheathed the entirety of his hard length into you with one smooth, drawn out move so attuned to your body. His grip on your hips was bruising, the feeling of him gripping tight to your shoulder even more so, but he didn’t move.

He seemed frozen, head bowed down and forehead connected with the back of your head, hands gripping tight, chest heaving with each deep breath and brushing hot against your back. Murmured words falling from his plush lips too quiet for you to catch, but you were sure if he could safely do so, he would be praising you in that filthy way he was prone to do. His large thighs were pressed to the backs of your own and the feel of his chef pants was rough on the naked skin of your thighs where he had pushed up the skirt of the dress you had worn for your shift.

“Please, Joel, I need you to move.” You circled your hips, grinding back on the entire length of him and you could feel yourself clench. A guttural moan sounded from his lips, puffing out in a misty breath.

“What did I tell you about bein’ a good girl f’me?” The hard line of him twitched deep inside you and your knees wobbled. The hand on your waist curled around your middle to help keep you upright, lest they give out on you completely. He pulled out nearly all the way only to slam back in, it took everything in you not to scream from the pleasure as white sparked across your vision. Your teeth digging into the hands that were grasping desperately onto the edge of the metal storage shelf you were pressed up against. Trying to hide the sound in an effort to keep the secret that had become your personal life just that, at least from any prying ears as your relationship had become common knowledge within the restaurant.

“Such a dirty girl, getting’ me all riled up in that lil dress. The skirt flippin’ up when you walk through the door to the floor.” He growled into your hair, close to your ear. His scruff tickling against your skin in the best way. He moved against you in quick movements, chasing his high and drawing you closer to yours.

“Ngh, Joel, please.” You whined quietly, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Come on, now, give it t’me,” He punctuated his words with pulling you closer to him, the backs of his thighs slamming against you so hard he was enamored with watching the way your ass jiggled. And you heeded his words, body tensing around him and clenching with the force of your release. Joel grunted at the feeling, reveling in the way that he could make you into such a crumbling mess, that you let him do it.

He followed after you, tingling in his spine at the way you clenched so tightly around him. Grinding his hips into you, he painted the inside of your walls with hot spurts, filling you up. You could feel some of the mixture of you both dripping down from where it collected around the base of him as he slowly moved against you as he rode out his release.

“Hmm, can’t take it all, can you? ‘m too much for you, huh, baby?”

You could only hum in response as he pulled out, wiggling your hips at him as he caressed down your waist and hips You could feel him kneeling down behind you, though you were too out of it to register what he could possibly be doing. Head set heavily on the shelf you still clung to, panting as you tried to come back to yourself, body alight in a way that was all encompassing. His large hands splayed across your cheeks, thumbs pulling you apart to watch his spend pooled up inside you. He groaned at the sight and without a thought he leaned in and swiped his tongue through your glistening folds.

A startled shout pushed out your chest, core throbbing at the overstimulation.

“Lucky it’s closin’ time, sweetheart, otherwise we’d be given away with all your pretty sounds.” He bit at your folds gently, teasing you with a smirk you could feel against you before he delved his tongue into your entrance and lapped up the salty taste of you both collected there. The thick wet muscle felt amazing, and you pressed yourself back to get more of the feeling. His nose bumped against you, and you keened as it sparked new tingles at a sensation against the tight ring of muscle you seldom paid attention to.

His hands spread you open, exposing you more to his ministrations as he moved down to suckle at your pulsing clit.

“Gonna give me ‘nother, come on now.”

The overstimulation, the feel of his teeth nipping and suckling, the tight grip he had on you, it was all so much, and you gushed against his skilled mouth. His mouth moved to gather what had trickled down the inside of your thighs, cleaning up every last drop from your body. Loving the way your muscles shook and your shoulders shuddered. Body going slack as he gave you one wide swipe of his tongue before standing behind you. He carefully dragged your panties back up your hips.

“Did such a good job, f’me,” His belt tinkled as he fastened it back together, body draping over your prone form. He turned you in his hold, your head lolling back slightly as you tried to look up at him through heavy lashes. You smiled, dazed and satiated, hands coming around the back of his neck to pull him down for a passionate kiss that took the last of your energy.

The meeting of your lips let you taste the remnants of what he licked from your core and you moaned as he licked into your mouth. His scruff damp and glistening where it brushed against your skin.

“I…don’t want to go back. It feels…tainted.” You stared at the email summarizing the rather…tense meeting you just had with the dean and your advisor. The police reports Joel had handed over spelling out the situation better than your stuttering and his forceful words as he sat between you and your angry professor who had silently fumed as his life went up in flames.

The cab of his truck was warm, turned on a idling while he waited for the AC to combat the build up while it had been sitting in the campus parking lot. He looked over to you, wanting to reach out to grasp your hand or thigh but you were closed off, overwhelmed. You knew he did, could tell by the twitching of his fingers as he gripped the steering wheel though the wasn’t actively driving.

“Okay, we can pack up your things and get you someplace that you’re comfortable in.”

“Oh.” You tried to hide the way you deflated slightly, at his quick offer to help you find somewhere as if your things weren’t already scattered around his home. Like he hadn’t made you feel the most welcome you had out of the times you’ve spent at anyone’s home. His soft wake ups, his lips ghosting over your skin any chance he got. “O-okay, sure. I can start looking after work today.”

“Was gonna say you could take the night off, it’s been…a lot today.”

Trying to tamp down the feeling of him wanting space, knowing he was doing so out of genuine care for your wellbeing.

“Work helps, I need to feel like I’m doing something.” You looked over to him, eyes wide and searching for comfort.

“Whatever you want, darlin’.” He finally reached out when he noticed you tuck your phone back into a pocket and began to stretch toward him. He kissed the back of your hand before starting the truck and driving off.

The next few weeks were spent focusing on packing your apartment up, carefully wrapping everything up and labeling boxes for each room. There hadn’t been any news on the applications you filled out for places around the city, a lag in the market as the fall semester neared and college students flooded the city limits.

You found yourself laboring over moving the boxes around, looking for stuff you needed for school, getting out a larger backpack to prepare for long days of TA work, classes, and then closing shifts at the restaurant. Millie taking over for four days during the week and you on weekends. The worry of waiting for them to announce the recipients of the internship following the firing of your professor and the arrest of his brother a low hum in the back of your mind.

Joel stepped through the door and melted your worries with his attentive lips and wandering hands.

A text. A photo. A question if he was hard for her. Another photo. A wall of notifications streaming on the screen of his phone. A woman contacting him, her first name only. And Joel Miller was a man adamant about his contact information being first and last names, with business, neighbor, or restaurant identifiers. Only his family and you were saved in his phone with first names only. Only his family and you and this woman.

Anger and betrayal came alive inside of you, making your every move seem as if it was life or death. Each breath sucked in between clenched teeth burned in your lungs as the taut pull of tears constricted your throat and made your face feel too hot. Fingers trembling you tossed the phone back onto the bed, the screen continuing to light up. The shower was barely turning off when you called out to him, voice strong despite the shaking of your hands.

“Joel, who the fuck is Valerie and why is she sending you naked photos?”

“What?” He popped back into the bedroom, hair wet from his shower. He had been toweling off before coming back into the room to change.

“Valerie is sending you naked photos and racy texts.”

“God dammit,” He rubbed a thick hand over his face, hiding the expression he was making save for the furrowing of his brow.

“That’s all you have to say?” You asked, getting up from the bed, searching for your discarded clothes that had been peeled off by his own hands not even an hour ago. You pulled your jeans on with rough movements, worried about the way he wasn’t saying anything else and the stillness he adopted in the doorway. Steam wafted around him, stray droplets of water trailing off the ends of his curls and down his chest, looking like a sight that would normally have heat curling in your middle.

“It’s not-“

“It’s not what I think? Joel, every man in history says that line.” You shrugged the black hoodie back on, not bothering to fix the rumpled hood that bunched up in an uncomfortable way around the back of your neck and shoulder, hair half tangled in it.

He said your name, something he seldom did unless at work, preferring to use sweet names when alone together or out in public as things had blossomed. You turned to look at him from where you were shoving the errant items of yours that had found a home on the nightstand that mirrored his own on the other side of the bed. Phone, small wallet, keys, box cutter, rings back in place on shaking fingers. A hair claw that he had bought to replace the one you had lost nearly two months ago now. A special one in the shape of a butterfly made of muted teal and a shiny inlay for the wings. He had surprised you with it but now it felt like a punch in the gut.

“I don’t, Joel, I can’t do this.” You wouldn’t listen to the half-hearted mumbling falling from his lips, towel held up on his waist with one hand, still stood in the doorway across the room.

“She does this, every blue moon, Sarah’s mom. Gets lonely and reaches out in this way, it’s not-“

“And you haven’t told her to stop? That you’re seeing someone? That it’s inappropriate?”

“And this isn’t? You not hearing me out or even giving me the chance to explain?” The low timbre of his voice gave his growing frustration away.

“Obviously you like it, let her do it while I’m lying in your bed, in your house, avoiding talking about moving in with you even though my stuff is in boxes in the damn garage?”

A pause settled in the space between you both, eyes watching each other, waiting for words that might damn each other further or save this mess from growing into something unmanageable.

“I didn’t know she was going to.”

“But you didn’t tell her to stop the last time? When was the last time, Joel?” You turned to face him fully, eyes narrowed and a glint behind them told him how hurt you were, how much this was affecting you for you to shrink in on yourself. Question yourself, question everything you two had built over the last six months.

“When was the last time, Joel? Did you respond, send your own photos back?” His eyes met yours, determined to explain it all away. But it was making you angry, the secondary emotion to your hurt and insecurity.

“It was before, before the meeting when you asked about the fall menu.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers raking through it in a nervous fashion you knew he displayed when overwhelmed and trying. But it hurt, the messages that had popped up.

Been missing you, big boy.

Need a response like last time, when you showed me how much you wanted me.

Can you call, I need to hear your voice, tell me how you like me.

“Before you smiled at me for the first time.”

“Before and now. She seems to think you’re gonna engage with her.”

“’m not, I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t be unfaithful to you.”

“Go ahead, no one’s stopping you.” His features hardened, hand holding the towel clenching tighter.

He was about to respond when his cell phone dinged again. And then rang.

The doorbell downstairs sounded in the air.

“She’s awfully eager, when was the last time?”

The doorbell sounded again, followed by a knock.

Tension crackled between you both, the knowledge that she wouldn’t be so adamant if the last time was over four months ago. His gaze broke from yours and to the carpet at your feet.

“Okay, that’s fine. That’s…perfectly fine, deny it. Don’t tell me the truth. I get it, you both have history. She’s not someone who works for you, she’s not as young as the daughter you both share. Don’t know what the fuck I was thinking falling for you anyway. You won’t even ask me to move in despite not having anywhere else to go.”

You bolted, falling back on instincts from when you had been in a similar situation last, from your emotions that were clawing their way out of your ribcage and fueling the words rushing from your lips.

“It was before we talked about doing this, before we kissed,” His small voice followed you out the door, but that was….that was too close to the dance you two had been engaged in around the restaurant, too close to not feel like a betrayal.

Muffled footfalls on the stairs echoed in your ringing ears as you left Joel standing in his bathroom doorway. The thud of you throwing your bag over your shoulder and woosh of the door opening underneath your hands. The woman from the photos was on his doorstep, her eyes glassy under the influence of whatever she had indulged in that night.

She seemed momentarily shocked as you shouldered past her, leaving the door wide open for her to see into the house that had been set up with a soft light in the living room for the evening.

“Who’re you?” She slurred, words jumbled together and voice honey sweet.

“Nobody.” You grunted at her as you marched down the walkway and toward your truck. The engine roared to life, and you didn’t look back to see if she had gone in of her own accord or if Joel had finally moved from his spot upstairs.

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