#I changed my style a bit in hopes his smile looks more gentle

[mari-lair]

predator of the sea

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[wonryllis]

daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog

[sanakiras]

DISTRACTION

PAIRING — xu minghao x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.5k

SYNOPSIS — you can’t help staring at your best friends’s hands. when he pushes you to tell him why, things in your relationship take a turn.

TAGS — minghao in a suit, explicit sexual content, pure self-indulgence, porn with no plot, fem!reader

NOTE — there’s something sooo attractive about a man having long fingers. also i just have a crush on the8. no i will not elaborate. might delete this later bc i don’t like it. oh well. enjoy :o

lately, whenever being around your best friend, you’ve been... distracted.

for some reason, you’ve always liked it when men have long fingers. obviously the best known reason for that is a lewd one, but for you, it’s more than that. long fingers are hypnotizing to you.

of course it was minghao’s face that drew you in first. plump lips, eyes that could both kill and make you melt under their gaze, a strong jaw, dark hair often slicked back with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top.

then you noticed his figure. minghao is tall — long legs, long arms, long torso. what intrigued you about him was the control he has over it, alongside his flexibility. his movement is always swift, sharp and coordinated. not one to stumble over his own feet.

he became a close friend to you in no-time. within the first months of meeting him, you developed an admiration towards him, and that continued to grow into a crush you feel nothing if not insecure about.

because despite knowing him well, he’s far from an open book.

he’s not once given you the idea that he likes you the same way you like him, and now that he’s become such a good friend of yours, the last thing you’d want is to lose the friendship you’ve built with him.

so you keep it to yourself.

or, well, you try.

his current outfit makes that ridiculously hard. you’ve never seen him in a suit before.

while you weren’t all that excited for the black-tie event hosted by your faculty, just the sight of him has changed your mood like a whole day’s worth of caffeine.

and when he walks over to you, all you can do is admire him. the fabric suits his body like a glove, with several silver rings adorning his fingers and his frequently worn small hoop earrings to match them. the beautifully subtle black eye pencil brings out the colors of his eyes and styled hair.

“you look like a dream,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth when he steps before you, the tone of his voice as gentle as the smile he gives you.

heat rushes to your cheeks. ���so do you. never expected to see you in a suit, but you clean up nice.”

he chuckles at your sarcasm. “thank you.”

as he tells you about — whatever it is, you honestly hardly remember a thing of the conversation — you suddenly come to the deafening conclusion that you’re nowhere near as subtle with your glances as you thought you were, which certainly bursts your bubble a bit.

“you keep doing that.” he muses, tilting his head as he looks at you with curiosity.

“what?”

“staring at my hands.”

“i’m not—i don’t stare.”

“what else would you call it? constant-looking?”

“hilarious. really.”

when you don’t say anything else, he purses his lips, hoping to get a little more out of you. you’ve got to give him credits for his determination. “so, what’s so interesting about my hands?”

with a simple shrug of your shoulders, you pretend to be casual, like he didn’t catch you staring at him. “they’re not interesting, just… nice.”

“nice?”

“can’t we just drop this? and by ‘we’ i mean you.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “we’re friends. you can tell me, i won’t judge.”

“you? not judging anyone? that’d be almost suspicious.”

the retort makes him smile to the point it hurts his jaw. “i won’t judge you.”

a sigh rolls past your lips. “it’s no big deal, i just… like it when people have nice hands.”

“and why’s that?”

“does everything you like need to have a reason?”

"no, i guess not."

a playfulness that stirs doubt in you flashes behind his eyes, and you’re forced to put a halt to the conversation when one of your fellow faculty members walks up to the two of you with a glass of champagne, which you could not be happier with.

all you can do is hope minghao won’t bring up the topic again, the redness in your cheeks betraying you.

unfortunately, he does eventually bring it up again, once he’s gotten you home.

what his exact words were is difficult to remember, but now that he’s pushed you back onto your bed, you can’t find it in you to give a damn.

your brain feels foggy and a thin layer of sweat begins to form on your neck while he uses his hands to unbutton the white dress shirt, his impatience getting the best of him for once.

even though you’re busy pulling your top off, it’s hard to divert your gaze from his hands and chest, which brings him to tilt his head at you. “you’re staring again.”

“if you don’t want me to stare, don’t give me a reason to.”

“oh, so this whole thing is really just my fault?” he taunts, getting so annoyed with the damn buttons on his shirt not working with him that he leaves the bottom half like it already was, only the upper half of his chest peeking through.

once he lays his eyes on your half-naked form, you spot a growing desperation and impatience in his features, which is rare on him.

much to your surprise, he’s eager and quick, refusing to waste a single second. his hands have already pulled you towards him by your thighs before you can even comprehend it.

the thin silver necklace touches your warm skin when he leans down to kiss you, the last thing you’d imagined you’d be doing tonight — and it’s better than you anticipated.

he pries your legs open with a nudge of his knee, and just when you want to look down to his hand on your skin, he pushes two fingers into you, curling it upwards.

your hands immediately fly to his upper arms in response to the sudden intrusion, but it only makes you crave more.

his lips latch onto your cheeks, jaw and neck, placing wet kisses everywhere he can reach while his long fingers move in and out of you.

“just two and you’re already so tight — you can take another one, though, can’t you?”

how sweet of him to pose it as a question, an offer.

you both know damn well he’s gonna keep going either way.

minghao doesn’t know what it is about you that just utterly sets him off. it might be your constant pessimism, your snarky delivery of sarcastic little comments, the way you needlessly tease him all the time — or maybe it’s that whenever he sees you, he wants nothing more for you to get the fuck on top of him, moaning his name.

who knows.

“why don’t you just try me?” you ask rhetorically, accidentally clenching around his digits when he moves them again.

minghao chuckles, baffled that you’ve still got such an attitude, even when you’re at his mercy. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, though. “right. maybe i should just do that.”

a third finger prodding into your hole makes you whine the loudest you have so far. he smirks a little when noticing the way you’re fighting so hard to maintain your composure, and the noise of your squelching wetness begins to become embarrassingly loud.

but it isn’t enough for him.

usually, it’s not at all like him to be insatiable or greedy. but all he can think of right now is that he wants more — to be closer with you, deeper.

he feels his own lust in every motion, every thrust of his fingers, every twitch of his cock. it makes him wonder if he’s ever wanted something, no, someone this badly.

his next move goes unnoticed by you since you’ve got your eyes closed and head back, but then you feel it, and it’s like you snap awake, an electric jolt making you jerk forward.

when you look down, he eagerly runs his tongue up and down your pussy, fingers remaining buried inside you.

“oh my god—” you stutter out, hand clutching onto the pillow but quickly moving down to grab his hair.

lost in your own pleasure, you push his head down, the lower half of his face coated in your arousal — fuck, he wants to do this for hours.

he proceeds to curl his fingers again, and he must’ve hit a good spot, because your legs are beginning to tremble, moans shorter and higher-pitched. “fuck, hao, it’s too much, i’m too close—”

“are you?” he rhetorically asks, pushing his digits as deep as possible, sucking on your clit, hollowing his cheeks. even when you try to close your legs, he firmly keeps them open.

your hips buck into his face when you cum, knees shaking, and he presses his thumb on your pussy, which makes your eyes roll back.

propping yourself up on your elbows, you suddenly feel his fingers slowly sliding out of you, and just that feeling alone already turns you on again. he sits across from you, still between your legs, and his fingers are completely coated in the sticky wetness that’s still dripping down your cunt.

he pushes them in his mouth, licking them clean, some of your arousal remaining on his lips.

“please say you’ll let me do that again.”

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[sunday-kisser]

—» Cozy Tart & Sun's Blessing

pairing: baker!reader x florist!sunday!au

genre: fluff, more fluff, fem!reader, strangers to lovers-ish

notes: it's been a while since i've written anything of that kind, i might be back if my inspiration allows me to be hehe. (PS my style might not be everyone's cup of tea and i know this isn't the best piece but i do hope it's somewhat enjoyable nonetheless) have fun ~

One rainy, late friday afternoon was all it took for your life to change entirely. Your shift in the bakery was almost over, when a young, handsome looking man walked through the heavy glass doors into the ever-cozy bakery.

He was drenched, gray-blueish hair sticking to his insanely handsome face — which he ran one of his unoccupied hands through, to free himself of any uncomfortable sensations. He looked like he ran straight out of some shampoo commercial. How was it fair for someone to look that gorgeous? Enough of that, he's a potential customer, stay professional!

You wondered if he had forgotten his umbrella or if the storm outside blew it out of his hands. It did happen to you just a few weeks prior, but he didn't seem like the person to be clumsy, or did he?

Said man took slow but deliberate steps in your direction and as his eyes finally found yours already watching him, his expression changed from one of discomfort into something much more relaxed and he let out a sigh he didn't know he held back. After all, the comfortable atmosphere combined with the sweet smell of pastries already lifted his mood greatly.

You were stood behind the counter, already awaiting his order, as you gave him your best smile. He was the last customer after all, might as well make the best of it and help this handsome wet cat of a man make this evening less depressing than the weather outside.

You wouldn't want it to rain even more cats and dogs.

His gentle voice reached your ears, though he did sound a little bit worn out from a hard day. "Good evening ma'am, I'd like to order a hot herbal tea—" he paused for a second to think, watched your expression carefully and then added, "and please add the last two pudding tarts to the list, thank you."

Oh, so he's polite and handsome.

You were so deep inside your own bubble that you didn't even realize that you were staring right into his soul.

"Excuse me—" he looked at your name tag to address you properly, "Miss [name], is something the matter?"

Blinking once, then twice you finally managed to come back to your senses. Goodness, how many times in the span of the last two minutes did you start to imagine a future with him? Get yourself together.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, "Excuse me, Sir! It must be the rainy weather getting to me. I'll get your order ready this instant."

The man in front of you let out a smooth huff of his own as he replied, "don't you worry a thing. The weather surely does behave quite out of order today."

A quick glance out of the big window in the corner told you that it would be out of order for quite a bit longer. It was then, that you heard a quiet rasp from the man in front of you until he added, "And please, Sunday is just fine."

Sunday? Is just fine? But wasn't today Friday?

You didn't think too much of it, nodded your head in his direction and turned around to prepare his tea. The smile was still on your face, albeit a little bit wonky due to your confusion.

Two minutes later and everything had been prepared. One of his delicate hands put the cash on the counter while the other took the tea and the bag filled with his goods.

The business was done and he was about to leave, walking back into the mess that was called the world outside of your little warm shop. Letting him leave like that while he was drenched felt so utterly wrong but could you just intervene in a strangers' business? Well, it surely didn't hurt to be nice.

Reaching your hand out into nothingness, you uttered a soft, "Please Sir, consider staying for a little bit longer until the rain has calmed down. If you'd like, you can enjoy your tea and your tarts at one of our free tables." You then took a breath and pointed to his still very wet hair, "I can get you a towel too if you'd like!"

Sunday stopped walking, considered your kind words for a second and then turned to let your gazes meet once more, a warm and appreciative smile already on his lips. "I appreciate your offer Miss [name] but I fear I can't just overstay irresponsibly and take up more of your precious time. You're off your shift already, aren't you?"

Your gaze swiftly wandered to one of the clocks behind you and indeed, your shift had already ended 10 minutes ago.

Just as you wanted to give him one of your very smart retorts, Sunday had already started walking to the exit again. His right hand had lifted just high enough to let you see him wave at you.

The door closed behind him and a humongous sigh finally pushed past your lips. You didn't even get to know his name, what a shame.

But you know what they say. One always meets twice in ones life.

While you were cleaning up the rest of the tables and the counter, you couldn't stop thinking about everything that went down earlier at all. Was it weird to think that something felt different with him? You've never really thought of anyone after they entered nor after they left your shop, so why him?

Maybe you just needed some sleep, yes that was probably it. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal, your heart would be calm again and your face wouldn't give away the shadows of today.

Say sike right now. This new day was something entirely out of this world.

The rain pitter-pattered it's way down onto the streets even harder than yesterday. Could a certain water god be any more generous with his soul shattering sky shower?

And to make things worse? You were late to your best friend's birthday. Could your day get any better? You swore you were a positive person but the rain truly made you question the odds.

The way to the flower shop felt like forever. The streets were flooded, your pants and the hem of your coat were splattered with mud due to the puddles everywhere and your hair was drenched. You looked like a wild cat that had been dropped into the bathtub after it rolled around in dirt. At least you didn't drink any coffee today or else you'd be the equivalent of a wild wet cat on catnip.

The task was simple, go to the flower shop, get a huge bouquet of your best friends' favorite flowers and then rush to her place and prepare the rest before she wakes up.

Your wet hand slipped off the flower shop's door handle twice before you managed to open it properly to let yourself in.

The bell at the door rang just as you let out a huff, finally being out of the rain.

A young woman with blueish hair greeted you just as she heard the bell chime, a gentle smile on her beautiful face. "Hello and welcome to our flower—" she quickly stopped herself after taking in your poor state.

She rushed into the back of the shop and then you heard some quiet, hushed whispers. Oh no, were you that hideous today that even the flowers were unwilling of being in your presence? Wait, flowers can't whisper, can they?

A few moments passed and another person emerged with the friendly looking woman in tow. Oh, this couldn't be. Surely you must still be dreaming because there was no way this was how you'd be meeting Mr. Drenched-But-Still-Handsome from yesterday?

Said man stepped forward, he eyed you with a gentle smile on his lips once more. "It seems the weather isn't in either of our favors. Please allow me to get you a towel."

Before you were able to even as much as utter a word, the woman introduced herself to you. You learned that her name was Robin and that she was the sister of the man who managed to worm his way into your brain over the course of 10 minutes.

You didn't know which facial expressions you were making right now but you were sure they must've been entertaining, considering the fact that Robin was holding back a chuckle herself.

Sunday came back with a towel in one hand and a mug in the other. "I wouldn't want to overstep but may I ask you to take off your coat? I'd rather you don't catch a cold."

And so things went their way. Sunday sat you down on one of the chairs in the back, towel over your head and mug in your hand. Robin hung up your coat to dry, they insisted you couldn't possibly leave like this.

Robin decided to "run some errands" soon after you settled in comfortably but didn't leave before telling you, "You know, Sunday — I mean, my brother told me all about yesterday. You must have left one kind of an impression on him. Rest assured that you're always welcome here."

While she was gone, you and Sunday spent some more time together. He eventually made you sit at the front with him while he took care of some of his own customers. What kind of gentleman would he be if he let you sit at the back all alone? After all, YOUR beauty didn't only brighten up his days — the flowers would like to have a word in too.

But wait, did Robin call him Sunday or were you just slow? You were pretty sure today was Saturday.

That very same fateful Saturday on which you scored yourself a date with the most handsome man you've ever had the honor to lay your eyes upon.

And while your best friend didn't get to wake up to the surprise you had planned for her, she still got to spend her special day with you. Just a little later, as the sun shone brightly in the sky again with no traces of rain left behind.

You wouldn't even know it had rained, weren't it for Sunday's contact in your phone, his message already reflecting off the display.

"Would you like to go out with me tomorrow? I heard pudding tarts taste the best when enjoyed under the sun."

On a Sunday. He is in fact just fine.

©written by sunday-kisser

[pinkslipxox]

could you do a fic like a compilation when Billie have spoke about her kids (the twins) in an interview

hola mi amor! I did a compilation of Billie talking about her twins from newborns to two year olds, hope you like it 😘🥰

——————————————————————————

Newborns:

The bright studio lights shone on Billie Eilish, her usual edgy style softened by a gentle, almost ethereal glow. She sat poised and composed, yet a nervous energy thrummed beneath the surface, a quiet anticipation in the way she clasped her hands. The interviewer, a seasoned professional, leaned forward, his voice a smooth baritone.

"Billie," he began, "you've always been very private about your personal life. But recently, you've become a mother. Can you share a little bit about that experience?"

Billie paused, a soft smile gracing her lips. The usual enigmatic aura that surrounded her seemed to dissipate, replaced by a radiant warmth. "It's… overwhelming," she confessed, her voice soft and tinged with emotion. "In the best possible way."

She spoke about Ava and Mia, her twin daughters, her words filled with a quiet reverence. "They're… amazing. Tiny little humans, full of so much life and energy. Ava's a little more serious, always observing. Mia’s a bit more mischievous, always smiling." A genuine laugh, light and airy, escaped her lips.

The interviewer nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Billie continued, her eyes glistening slightly. "It's changed everything," she said, her voice catching slightly. "My perspective, my priorities… everything. It's hard to explain. It's just… unconditional love. Pure, unadulterated love."

She paused, taking a deep breath, her usual composure momentarily faltering. "And Y/N…" she began, her voice softening even further. "My wife… she's incredible. She's the strongest person I know. She's been amazing through all of this." Her voice cracked, and she quickly wiped away a stray tear. "She's my rock, my everything. I don’t know what I would do without her."

***

Six Months Old:

"Billie," the interviewer began, poised and ready, "you've become a mother of twins! How's that changed your world?”

Billie smiled, a genuine, heart-warming smile that reached her eyes. "It's… chaotic," she admitted, her voice soft and warm. "Pure, beautiful chaos. But the best kind of chaos." She paused, her fingers gently tracing a small, barely-there ring on her left hand.

"They're six months old now, Ava and Mia," she continued, her voice filled with a quiet pride. "And they’re already so different. Ava's a little more serious, very observant. She’ll just stare at you intensely, like she's figuring out your whole life story. Mia, on the other hand… well, Mia's a little comedian."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, a sound both light and happy. "The other day," she recounted, her eyes twinkling, "we were trying to give them a bath. It’s always a bit of a production, right? Lots of screaming and splashing. Well, Mia, in the midst of all the chaos, managed to grab a rubber ducky and completely submerge it in the soapy water, then proceed to drink the soapy water from the duck’s little mouth. It was absolutely disgusting, but also… hilarious."

Billie chuckled again, her shoulders shaking with laughter. The studio audience mirrored her amusement, their laughter a ripple of shared joy.

"Y/N and I just looked at each other," Billie recounted, "and started laughing. It was utter mayhem, but it was also pure, unadulterated joy. It’s moments like that, the messy, crazy moments, that I treasure the most. It's the stuff that makes the everyday incredible."

She paused, her expression softening. "They’re my whole world. Y/N and I, we’re learning as we go, but the love… it’s something I never knew existed, you know? It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way. I never thought I could feel this much love for anyone or anything."

***

1 Year Olds:

Billie sat comfortably, radiating a quiet contentment that was far removed from her sometimes enigmatic public persona. The interviewer, a seasoned professional, smiled warmly.

"Billie," he began, "Happy belated birthday to your twin daughters! Ava and Mia just turned one."

Billie's face lit up. "Thank you!" she replied, her voice soft and full of warmth. "It was such a special day." She paused, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "It’s hard to believe they’re already a year old. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing them home from the hospital."

She launched into a description of Ava and Mia’s first birthday party, her voice brimming with affection. "We kept it pretty small," she explained. "Just close family and friends. Y/N and I planned everything together – it was a real team effort." A soft blush colored her cheeks as she mentioned her wife.

"We had a little 'twins' theme," she continued, her eyes sparkling. "We made sure there were plenty of toys, soft blankets and lots of delicious, baby-friendly food. Ava and Mia mostly just stared at everything with wide eyes. Ava seemed fascinated by the balloons. Mia mostly wanted to try and eat everything, even the flowers!" She chuckled, a warm, melodic sound that filled the studio.

"The cake," she said, her voice softening, "was the best part. A double-decker, each layer decorated differently. We had a little photoshoot, but they were more interested in grabbing the frosting!"

Billie's voice took on a sweeter tone as she recounted a particular moment. "Y/N captured this amazing picture of Ava reaching out and grabbing Mia's hand. It was so pure and sweet, it made me cry." Her usual guarded demeanor was gone; in its place, a tender and profoundly loving mother glowed through. "It was a really special moment. It perfectly captured the essence of what having twins is like – this beautiful, messy, and chaotic love."

The interviewer nodded, his gaze gentle and understanding.

Billie concluded with a soft sigh, a faraway look in her eyes. "It was the most perfect day. Being able to celebrate our beautiful girls with the people we love, all under one roof… it doesn't get much better than that."

***

18 Months Old:

The gently slow radiating off Billie was palpable. Gone was the usual edgy attire; she was dressed in something soft and comfortable, her hair pulled back in a simple style. She looked relaxed, content, and utterly radiant. The interviewer smiled warmly.

"Billie," he began, "your twin daughters, Ava and Mia, are about to turn two. Can you believe it?"

Billie's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of disbelief and wonder in their depths. "I can't," she breathed, her voice hushed with emotion. "It feels like just yesterday they were tiny newborns. Now they're running around, exploring the world, getting into everything!" A gentle laugh escaped her lips, a sound full of love and wonder.

She described Ava and Mia's personalities, her voice soft and tender. "Ava is still our little observer. She's so thoughtful, always watching, taking everything in. Mia… well, Mia is still our little comedian. She's always cracking us up, getting into mischief. She just loves making faces and being silly!"

The interviewer nodded, prompting her to continue.

Billie's gaze softened as she talked about her wife, Y/N. "Y/N is incredible," she said, her voice filled with reverence and love. "As a partner, she's my rock. She’s my best friend, my confidante, my everything. And as a mother? She’s simply extraordinary. She’s so patient, so loving, so incredibly strong. Seeing her with Ava and Mia fills my heart with so much joy. She’s an amazing mother. I’m so lucky to have her."

Billie’s usual guarded demeanor seemed to completely melt away. She spoke with such genuine warmth and affection, a tenderness that radiated through the studio. Her eyes shone with a soft glow, conveying a depth of emotion rarely glimpsed in her public appearances.

"These past eighteen months have been the most challenging, yet most rewarding of my life," she confessed. "There are moments of utter exhaustion, moments of frustration, moments where I feel completely overwhelmed. But there are so many moments of pure, unadulterated joy that make it all worthwhile. Every tiny milestone, every giggle, every cuddle… it's all worth it. They’re perfect, both of them."

***

2 Years Old:

The interviewer smiled softly. “Billie," he started, "your twin daughters, Ava and Mia, just turned two. What’s that like?"

Billie smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "It's…intense," she admitted, her voice soft and warm. "The terrible twos are definitely living up to their name! It's a rollercoaster of emotions – pure joy, utter chaos, and everything in between. But seeing them reach these milestones is so incredible, it makes all the challenges worth it."

She recounted a recent moment with a proud chuckle. "Just yesterday, Ava finally figured out how to stack her blocks. She was so proud of herself, and watching her tiny face light up with accomplishment melted my heart. And Mia? Oh, Mia finally mastered walking backwards. She thinks it's the funniest thing ever." She shook her head, a mixture of amusement and love in her eyes.

The interviewer nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Billie's gaze softened as she turned to talk about her wife, Y/N. "Y/N is my hero," she said, her voice filled with deep admiration. "She's so amazing with them. She’s the calm amidst the storm. Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without her. We’re a team, a real partnership. Y/N is not just an incredible mother, but also my best friend and my greatest source of support. Watching her navigate motherhood with such grace and patience is truly inspiring. She's just incredible."

She paused, reflecting for a moment. "Motherhood is the most challenging and rewarding experience of my life. It's exhausting, messy, and frequently overwhelming. But there's this unbelievable joy, this unbreakable bond, that makes it all worthwhile. Ava and Mia are teaching me so much about love, patience, and resilience. It's beautiful, really."

A gentle tear escaped her eye, and she quickly brushed it away with a self-deprecating smile. "I’m a mess, aren't I?" she whispered. But there was no embarrassment, only a profound and beautiful vulnerability, a testament to the overwhelming love she felt for her family. The interview became less of a professional engagement and more a tender sharing of her life's most profound joys, a heart-warming glimpse into the life of a devoted mother and wife, blissfully in love with her family.

[harrywavycurly]

To tell the world we are engaged I think an insta post would be fine but the Vogue thing is so good for after the wedding and everything is done? So Harry isn’t single one day then all of a sudden married the next and really upset fans?

Hiii lovey!! Okay so I hope you like this, it’s a mix of a little blurb and also an instagram post where y’all let the world know about the engagement and allow yourself to see how fans and people react! 💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

*if the ring in the instagram isn’t your style that’s okay you can just imagine any ring you want I just used one that looked like it could be family heirloom type vibes*

A/N: You post your ring on instagram and Harry claims you didn’t tell him you were going to do it, enjoy✨

You bite your bottom lip as you hit the share button and watch as the screen on your phone takes you back to your instagram page, you smile as the photo of your engagement ring pops up at the top of your page letting you know the post has been uploaded and is now live. You know people will start to see it pretty quickly, having gained quite a following over the years thanks to your friendships with both Niall and Harry. Ever since Niall posted a video of you talking to Harry in the background of a random backstage video during the One Direction days you became well aware of the fact most of your followers just came to your page in hopes of getting a glimpse of either of the boys, and you don’t mind because for the most part they didn’t bother you much besides a few “where’s Harry?” Or “when is the 1D reunion?” comments under your posts. But that was more than likely all about to change with the photo and caption you just posted because the news of you and Harry getting engaged was going to be a bigger shock to the fans than it was to your friends and family because at least they could kind of see it coming.

“Baby?” Harry’s voice startles you as you slide your phone into the pocket of your pajama shorts. “You okay?” He asks as he watches you from the doorway of your closet with his arms crossed over his chest and a quirked brow.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You answer a little too quickly for his liking as you bend down and grab your slippers from the bottom shelf of the built in shelves you’re standing in front of. You don’t look at him as you slide your feet into them but you soon feel his hands on your hips giving them a gentle squeeze as he stands behind you.

“Do you want to tell me the truth?” He asks as he leans down and places his lips to the top of your head before his hands move from your hips and up your arms until they are resting on top of your shoulders. “Or do you want me to drop it?” You feel his lips next to your ear making you let out a sigh while his hands begin to rub your shoulders instantly making you relax under his touch.

“I was just lost in my thoughts that’s all.” You explain and Harry just nods as you lean your head back so it’s resting on his chest.

“Yeah? What kind of thoughts?” His hands continue to rub your shoulders as you close your eyes and Harry smiles when he hears you let out a little hum of approval when he adds a bit more pressure to his movements trying to help ease the tension he can feel in your shoulders.

“Just thinking of all the different reactions people are going to have that’s all.” Your answer makes Harry’s hands momentarily pause their relaxing rubbing of your shoulders causing you to open your eyes and turn your head so you can look up at him.

“Reaction to what?” You want to roll your eyes at his question but when he looks down at you with his eyebrows raised you can tell he’s not joking. You stand up and turn around making his hands fall from your shoulders causing a slight frown to take over his face at the loss of contact but it’s only there for a moment because when he looks at you and watches you place your hands on your hips and look at him with a slight squint, as if you’re trying to read his face and see if he’s being serious or not he can’t help but begin biting on his bottom lip because he knows he’s clearly missed something and when your squint turns into a full on glare he knows you’re not happy with him.

“I posted the photo just now.” You answer and Harry just nods and you know he has no clue what photo you’re talking about when he brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck so you decide to mess with him a bit. “I went with one from last week at the beach because my ring looks really good in the sunlight.” You can practically see Harry flipping through what the two of you did last week in his mind trying to picture the moment you’re talking about and you have to hold back your smirk when you see his eyes go a bit wide and a hand fall to his hip as he stares at you.

“The beach? You posted a photo of us at the beach? I’m like barely dressed when at the beach.”

“You’re barely dressed when you’re just running out to get coffee Harry the only difference is at the beach you actually fit the dress code.”

“Oh you love my short shorts don’t even act like you don’t.”

“I never said I didn’t. But you’re missing the whole point.”

“Which is?”

“My ring looks really good in the photo.”

“So you posted a photo of us at beach because-wait a minute you said your ring looks good? Like your engagement ring? You posted your engagement ring on the internet?”

“I did.” Harry just stands there and blinks a few times as you answer him while turning around and heading out of your closet and into the bedroom, leaving him standing there with his hand still on his hip and his eyes so wide his eyebrows are practically in his hairline.

“Sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at Harry’s extra soft and sweet tone of voice, the one he saves for when he knows he’s about to say something that will upset you. You place your phone on your nightstand before sitting on the edge of your bed as Harry walks into the bedroom. “You can’t just go and post half naked photos of me and your engagement ring without giving me a heads up.” You rub your lips together and grab your hand lotion off your nightstand as Harry begins pacing the width of the bed, you turn your head to look at him and watch him run a hand through his hair tugging at the roots a bit. “I thought we talked about just letting people find out when we walk a red carpet together or something after the wedding next year?” He asks as he walks around the bed so he’s standing right in front of you.

You look up at him as you begin rubbing in the lotion on your hands and Harry can’t even say he’s surprised by how calm you are because honestly out of the two of you in moments like this he is always the more irrational one, but he can’t help that he is always quick to panic. So him seeing you just casually putting on your hand cream and going on with your nightly routine isn’t anything shocking to him, but it doesn’t do anything to calm him down because all he can think about is how any moment now his phone is going to ring and it’s going to be Jeff asking why there’s a photo of him barely dressed and you with an engagement ring on your hand circling the internet. Because even though Jeff knows the two of you are engaged he wouldn’t be prepared for the media whirlwind of you randomly announcing it with a half naked photo of Harry.

“Harry.” You say his name with a bit sternness that you know he needs in order to get him to stop fidgeting with the rings on his fingers and to get his eyes to look into yours so he can focus on what you’re about to say next. “We talked about this last night and you said it was okay if I posted my ring so that the fans can go ahead and know what’s going on so it’s not such a shock for them to just find out you’re all of a sudden married.” Harry feels your soft hands grabbing his and pulling him closer to you till he’s standing between your legs and you’re staring up at him with a soft smile.

“When did we talk about it last night?” He questions as you let go of his hands, he is quick to place his on the sides of your face as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“While getting ready for bed.” You watch a small smirk form on Harry’s face as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“You mean while you were getting undressed? That’s when you decided to try to have that conversation with me?”

“I didn’t try Harry I did have that conversation with you.”

“And tell me baby how exactly did it go?”

“I said I wanted to tell your fans about our engagement-"

“And what did I say?”

“You said uh huh.”

“Right and then you said what?”

“I said I wanted to do it today and that it’s just going to be a photo of my ring and a cute little caption and you said yeah sure okay.” Harry lets out a breathy chuckle as his thumbs gently stroke your cheekbones and now it’s your turn to feel as if you’re missing something as you look up at Harry confused.

“Baby you had to have known I wasn’t paying any attention to what you were saying.” There’s a playful look in Harry’s eyes as he stares at you while he talks. “Your tits were out and you had on those cute little black and pink-”

“Harry Styles.” You snap as you reach up and place one of your hands over his mouth to stop him from continuing making him laugh as his hands drop from your face as you feel your cheeks get hot at his admission as to why he doesn’t remember having the conversation about you posting the photo today. “You really don’t remember any of that conversation?” You ask and Harry just shakes his head with your hand still covering his mouth, you let out a sigh as you drop your hand from his mouth and rest your forehead on his chest making him laugh as his hands begin soothingly running up and down your arms.

“Let’s look at this photo then shall we? See what the people are saying about us?” You feel one of Harry’s hands leave your arm so he can reach into the pocket of his sweatpants and grab his phone. “Oh you cheeky little thing that’s just a photo of your ring not of us at the beach.” He gives your arm a playful pinch making you laugh as you sit up a bit and turn your head so you can rest your cheek on his chest as he holds his phone so the both of you can see the screen.

“As if I’d post a shirtless photo of you to announce our engagement.”

“Yeah that would’ve been extremely cruel of you. Letting everyone see what they officially can’t have.”

“You really are such a narcissist.” You mumble as Harry begins scrolling through the comment section and you bring your finger up to his phone to make him pause when you see one that makes you laugh. “Does that say-”

“Adopt me? Yes that’s exactly what that says.” You laugh as you tap the comment making a red heart appear next to it. “Love this isn’t your account this is mine.” His tone is teasing but your eyes go wide as you quickly unheart the comment but you know even in the two seconds it took you to fix the mistake that screenshots have been taken and soon fan accounts will be posting all about how Harry Styles liked a fan’s comment asking him and his fiancé to adopt them.

“Oh shit I’m sorry.” Harry just laughs and places a kiss to the top of your head as he puts his phone back in his pocket and leans over to grab yours off the nightstand. “I’m still getting used to the social media part of things when it comes to us.” You know you don’t need to explain yourself because Harry gets it, he knows you enjoy replying to people and liking comments that make you laugh and sometimes he wishes he could do the same thing but sadly he can’t or at least not like he used to.

“You don’t need to apologize sweetheart it’s okay.” He reassures you with a gentle squeeze to your arm as he pulls up your instagram and begins looking through the comments on the post. “Now let’s just give ourselves a few minutes okay? We don’t need to get too caught up in what people say or think of our situation because-”

“Oh that one says you have incredible taste in both rings and fiancés.” You tap the comment so a heart appears next to it and continue to scroll while Harry holds the phone in his hand. “Well that’s just rude.” You mumble as you read a particularly nasty comment making Harry raise an eyebrow as he tries to lean down and read it but you just keep scrolling making him let out a huff.

“Am I just holding the phone then? I don’t get to read any?” His voice is slightly whinny as he watches you scroll a bit more and then pause, when you don’t make any moves to scroll further Harry takes this as a sign to lean down a bit so he can read the screen better and the little portion of comments he can read make a grin take over his face. “I like the one that says you’re their favorite Styles because I agree and just watch you’re probably going to become everyone’s favorite.” You laugh and heart the comment on his behalf and then quickly type out a reply saying Harry agrees. “You’re sneaky love.” You just smile as you feel his lips on the top of your head letting you know he doesn’t mind your reply.

“Uh oh it appears I have stolen this poor girl’s boyfriend from her.” Harry reads the comment you are referring to and shakes his head at you disapprovingly.

“That’s not very nice you should send her a fruit basket or something.” You roll your eyes at him as you continue to scroll and randomly heart a few comments here and there that catch your attention.

“Me? You’re the boyfriend you send her a fruit basket.” You tease as you lean back so you can look up at him, he turns the screen of your phone off before leaning over and placing it back on your nightstand. “That wasn’t so bad.” Harry just smiles and nods in agreement as you place your hands on his chest.

“Can we cuddle now?” He asks as he leans down so the tip of his nose playfully bumps into yours, you drag your hands up his chest and to the back of his neck making him smile as you pull him closer to you so you can place a kiss to his lips. Harry smirks when you pull away and rests his forehead against yours “Or maybe we-”

“Don’t ruin the moment Harry.”

The photo you posted on Instagram:

[notafunkiller]

happy new year

Summary: On New Year's Eve, you take a bold step by approaching a stranger, with whom you form a connection.

Pairing: writer!endings beginnings frank x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 23, Frank is 42) teasing, dirty talk, pet names, oral séx, protected séx, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Frank (Endings, Beginnings) masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I think this will be a series, so I really hope you’ll enjoy it! Also, I want to thank @lavenderhaze967 for supporting me!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You’re not a coward...  You’ve never been, but as you pat him on the shoulder, you want nothing more than to run away.

What were you thinking? What are you gonna tell him?

You grab the glass from the table and try to turn around quickly, but it’s too late. You see him out of the corner of your eyes how he shifts, and now he’s facing you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You stop with a sigh, and you find yourself checking him out shamelessly.

His hair looks perfectly styled, but in that “I don’t give a fuck” way you always admire. Even when you try or not to care, it still ends up messy. And the whites in his beard make you feel a little weaker. He looks even more handsome up close.

“Well, hello there.” He smiles shyly before bursting into giggles.

You freeze for a little bit, taken aback by his smile and the way it makes his eyes glow.

“Hi.”

“Happy new year,” he says, still smiling, with his hands in his pockets. He looks so casual, yet so attractive. It makes you wonder if it comes with time...

You clear your throat. “Happy new year!”

You don’t like how awkward you sound, it’s embarrassing, so you need help. Without noticing he follows your gaze, you turn your head toward your friends, who’ve been watching you all along. You try to show them with your eyebrows that you need some tips, but the only thing they do is to give you a thumb-up.

Sighing, you look at him again and notice how his cute smile turns into a lob-sided smirk.

“Is that for me, darling?” He nods toward the glasses you’re holding, and you mentally slap yourself as you hand him one.

“Oh, shoot! Yeah!”

He snorts, amused. “Well, thank you very much.”

With a playful wink, he brings the glass to his mouth, taking a huge sip. Your eyes remain locked even as he licks his lips, savoring the aftertaste. The corners of his mouth curl into a charming smile again, and you sigh, feeling your cheeks get hotter, as he acknowledges your gesture with a nod of appreciation.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anything I can help you with? What’s the dare?”

You don’t know how to react for a second. What dare?

“I don’t know what you mean,” you murmur.

“Look, darling, I really don’t mind.” He chuckles, waving around with the hand he’s holding the champagne glass with. “Just tell me what’s the dare, and I can help you.”

Still caught off guard by his assumption, you smile politely. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand... Where did this dare idea come from? There’s no such a thing.” You look at him with a mix of curiosity and gentle insistence, wanting to know what it’s running through his mind. You feel so embarrassed.

“I mean...” He brings his free hand to the back of his head to stroke his hair. “I was young once too, you know? I wasn’t always forty-two, I promise.”

He laughs, but you’re still focused on the casual way he dropped his age. You wouldn’t have guessed he is over forty for sure, but that doesn’t change anything. You still want to kiss him. He, on the other hand, seems to care about it. Gosh, how would he react if he knew you’re just twenty-three?

“You don’t look forty at all.”

That is the only thing you find yourself mumblings, and you sigh as soon as you realize how biased that sounds.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he keeps smiling, so it must be a good sign, right?

“Well, don’t let my wrinkles or,” he pauses to stroke his beard. “My whites hear that. They might feel left out from the aging party and all.”

You can’t help but giggle, bringing your free hand to cover your cheeks, trying to hide your redness. He is casually bringing up his age, white hair, and wrinkles. Is he trying to send you a message?

“Sorry if that sounded weird. Your wrinkles are a part of...” You stop mid-sentence, not knowing what you’re going to say. You’re so silly. “I just meant… you look great. Um, yeah, sorry again.”

“So you think men in the forties look-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, panicking, but he laughs.

“I was just teasing, darling, don’t worry. Saw you turning to your friends earlier and I assumed you got dared to offer me champagne or something. I mean, why else would a woman like you talk to a fossil like me?”

Your eyes drop to his lips immediately when he chuckles. They’re wet and chapped, and you wonder how they’d feel against yours. His beard is long enough not to itch, so...

“You’re, uh, really hot,” you say bluntly before taking a huge sip from your champagne glass without taking your eyes off his face.

He frowns for a second, probably taken aback by your words, but he doesn’t get to say something as everyone around you starts to count. Almost midnight.

You take the glass from his hand and place it along with yours on the table.

This is it...

When the counting hits three, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes at the same time you get on your tiptoes, and crush your lips against his in a moment of madness. You didn’t want to have time to think twice, because you know you wouldn’t have done it. You never do something crazy like this. You’re never brave enough.

But it’s like you’re kissing a statue. He doesn’t respond at all, keeping his mouth and his arms completely still.

You step back; a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. “I’m so sorry,” you blurt out as you feel your cheeks reddening even more. You want to look into his eyes as you apologize… You really do, but you find it too hard. You don’t want to see the rejection or, even worse, the disgust. “I shouldn’t have done that, I am so sorry! I was completely out of line. You obviously didn’t want me, and I just crossed…” You fumble for words, mortified, and you realize it would be better if you just left. So you turn around, not even taking your glass. You just want to run away and cry yourself to sleep. You’ll have to leave this place earlier, since there is no way you could face him ever again. You shouldn’t have even approached him, you ruined his New Year’s Eve. God, you didn’t even ask him if he had someone! You simply assumed he is single because he didn’t have a wedding band, and you didn’t see him with anyone.

You take a few steps into your friends’ direction, crushed, but you feel his hand wrapping around your forearm, stopping you and, at the same time, turning you around.

You wonder if he’s going to scold you as you stare back at him, but he surprises you too when he moves his hand from your forearm to the back of your head, tilting your head enough so he can lean in and kiss you.

You gasp when you feel his lips, and he doesn’t hesitate even for a second to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue everywhere in your mouth, and you moan, feeling your knees weakening. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, let alone in public. It makes your attempt from earlier look ridiculous. You try to kiss him back with just as much passion, bringing your hands to his neck so you can feel him better. His beard doesn’t tickle your face, and his tongue is amazing.

You’re gonna remember this forever, without a doubt.

He breaks the kiss with a pop when you can’t breathe anymore, letting your foreheads touch gently.

“Now this is, indeed, a happy new year.”

“Thought you didn’t want it... me,” you whisper, still looking at his now red lips. You just want to kiss him again and cover his whole face with lipstick.

“The question is do you really want me like this? I’m an old man with a very messy fuck boy past. You know, I even used to do drugs,” he says seriously, but not moving away. It’s like he’s waiting for you to take the step back, and when you don’t, he continues. “You seem like a good girl, and I assume you’re pretty sober.” He pauses, waiting for you to confirm, so you just nod. “Good! But I don’t want you to make decisions in the heat of the moment. Even if it’s just for a night.”

Even though you understand being a good girl is not an insult, you’re still offended. He basically offers one night, so his past doesn’t matter. Fuck boy... you guess this is also his way of telling you he is single and doesn’t look for something serious. And you appreciate he’s warning you about everything. No man who’s still in that mindset would warn you. He means well, so you grab him by the collar of his shirt. “Do good girls kiss you without even knowing your name?” Your tone takes him by surprise. His eyes widen, and a giggle escapes his mouth.

“Still a good... and younger girl. Too young for me for sure.”

You sigh, getting on your tiptoes again.

“What if this good, younger girl takes you to her room and lets you fuck her?”

You don’t know where this comes from. You’re always straightforward, but not like this. And definitely not to a man in his early forties you don’t even know. But you really want him, and you deserve to enjoy yourself for a minute.

His eyes are big, but his smirk tells a whole different story.

“If you’re sure,” he waves around, signaling you that you can leave and that he’s in. Your heart is racing as you take his hand. “I guess you want to be my good girl.”

*

His hands are everywhere: from your hair to your hips as soon as you close the door, surprising you. You drop the keys and your purse on the table and let him guide you to the mini-couch. If you thought the kiss from earlier was intense, the way he kisses you now makes you completely breathless. He’s really, really good at it, and the way he’s grabbing your ass is actually perfect. Even though his tongue explores your mouth with almost desperation, you don’t feel like he rushes anything at all.

“It’s Frank, by the way,” he whispers against your cheek before he starts unzipping your dress.

“What?”

You nervously let the sleeves fall and then step out of your dress. Your underwear doesn’t match and you are not prepared for sex, but he doesn’t seem to mind, staring straight at your bra as if it’s his worst enemy.

“My name, darling.”

“Frank...” You repeat. It fits him, it sounds straightforward.

He smiles widely, bringing his hand to your back to unhook your bra.

“I hope you’ll keep saying my name tonight. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

You can’t even be mad at him for his lie.

“I somehow doubt that, Frank,” you snort, throwing the bra on the floor yourself. You keep your eyes there for a few seconds, not knowing what to do, but you feel his hands on your breasts before you can even say something, squeezing and teasing your nipples.

“You have the most beautiful tits ever. Wanna bury my face in them as I fuck you. Would you let me do that too?”

You can’t help but sigh, bringing your hand to his chin. “You don’t have to lie to me, okay? I actually ask you not to.”

He stops fondling your breasts, and you make eye contact. He seems a little confused and maybe even mad.

“I mean every word I say. I don’t need to lie, do I? You said you’re gonna be my good girl. So I do feel like licking your tits as I fuck you till you scream my name, okay?”

“I never said I wanna be your good girl, did I?” You ask, changing the subject, and bring your hands to his flannel shirt-jacket to remove it.

“No, you’re right. You wanna be my brat.” He bites his bottom lip as you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can, noticing how your fingers tremble. “Have you ever been called a brat before? Did they even notice you are one?”

“Do you always talk about others during sex? That’s a total turn off for me, just so you know.” You pull off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. God, please have mercy! You finally meet his eyes. “And no, I haven’t been called that before. You’re the first one. Does that stroke your ego or,” you pause so you can unzip his jeans. “Should I stroke something else?”

“No need to stroke anything. How about being a good princess and lying on your back so I can get a taste of your pretty pussy, hmm?”

You probably made a face since he brings his lips between your brows, stopping you from frowning with a kiss.

“Princess, really? Did that really get you laid?”

“I thought it turns you off to talk about other people,” he whispers as you lower his jeans and briefs at the same time, trying not to frown again at the thought of what you brought up. You know it’s silly and unfair to wish to be seen as unique, especially in the eyes of a man with experience like Frank, but you can’t control your thoughts.

You shake your head, wanting to snap out of it. One night. You have to stop overthinking for only one night... or, well, until you two finish. “You’re right. Let’s just…”

He steps out of the pool of clothes but doesn’t let you go to the bed or even look down, holding your face so you can meet his eyes.

“I haven’t called anyone princess until now, I swear. And I’ve never been with someone this younger, either.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Frank.” You smile. “I promised to let you fuck me, so...”

“Sweetheart, hey!” His voice is not just soft, but also comforting. You immediately notice his bottom lip between his teeth, though. “Tell me if you changed your mind. Tell me to stop any time. I know you can’t fully believe that, but I promise I’m not lying about anything. I can charm you better with my tongue than with some words I wouldn’t believe in. I found you incredibly hot when I saw you tonight. Checked you out before you came to me, but I realized you’re way too young and you don’t need this shit. I assumed you’re with someone.” His thumb touches your bottom lip, and you whimper.

“Frank...”

“I could come just by looking at your face. Won’t even talk about your tits. Whoever made you feel otherwise is a fucking jackass.”

You don’t know if you should laugh or simply kiss the hell out of him, fighting the urge to apologize, so instead you look down, straight at his cock and gasp. It’s thick and so, so hard. The precome on the head makes you wonder how it’d taste. The slight curve and the visible veins make it look even hotter.

You’re nervous since you did this only two times, so you certainly can’t say you’re an expert.

You gently grab the head of his dick with your right hand, stroking a bit with your thumb. It steals a moan from him instantly, making you feel proud.

After that, you drop to your knees without hesitation, not taking off your hands until you make sure you are close enough. You look up at him just in time to see him pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, shocked.

“I wanna suck your cock so much, but I need some... guidance. I’m not,” you stop shyly for a second to rephrase it. “I want to know how you like it.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, are you trying to kill an old man?”

“Why, do you see one with us in the room?” You take one hand off so you can bring your tongue to the head and get a proper taste.

You feel his fingers flying to your hair instantly, almost pulling, and you keep looking into his eyes.

“S-stop, I told you I want to eat you, now be a good-” he hisses when you take his tip into your mouth, playfully letting your teeth just graze him. You don’t know where this came from, but you just had the urge to do it. “Fucking brat!”

This time he actually pulls your hair a little, making you actually whimper when you lose contact with his cock.

“If you don’t like it, you can, uh, fuck my mouth. I never... But I-”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, leaning it enough so he can grab you by your waist and lift you until he can properly take you in his arms to carry you.

“Just shut up for a sec and listen, okay?”

You roll your eyes, licking your lips. “Or what? Gonna punish me?” You mock him before telling him your name as he drops you on the bed.

“Yes, I’m gonna punish you. Is that your real name?”

You move, supporting yourself on your elbows as he spreads your legs.

“Yes, why? Did you give me a fake name?” You get goosebumps when you feel his hands on the sides of your underwear. And before you can continue to question him, you hear the tearing sound at the same time as you feel the underwear fall on the bed.

What the fuck?

“No, but I never know with a bratty little girl.”

“Little girl? You’ve just ripped my underwear, Frank!”

“You almost bit my cock!”

You roll your eyes. He’s so dramatic.

“If I’d really wanted to bite it, you’d have no cock right now to fuck me with, so...”

He shakes his head, and you almost reach for those strands that fall recklessly on his forehead. He has such pretty hair, you’re jealous.

“God, look at this.” He sounds so fascinated as his fingers find your slit. Your body jolts in surprise when you feel his touch. “So wet.”

He smiles cheekily before bringing his finger to your mouth and pressing it against your bottom lip so you can feel the wetness. Then he kisses you with hunger, licking and biting until you open.

He doesn’t just deepen the kiss, he also moves and drags you with him until you’re on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says suddenly, making you freeze for a couple of seconds. Unexpected.

He starts leaving a trail of kisses on his way down to your pussy: from your chin, to your neck, the valley between your tits, your navel, then right above your entrance.

“I want you not to hold back, okay? If you feel the need to ride my face, please do. If you want me to use my hands or tongue in any way, tell me. Guide me... use me, I’m all yours.”

The way he says the last part makes you whimper. He wants you to use him for your pleasure… and there is something about this that drives you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Frank.”

He smiles, breathing out right against your entrance, making you shiver before licking. Fuck.

“Good girl.”

Your hips start moving before you realize what you’re doing, and Frank’s nose is brushing your clit, making you whimper. It was only for a second, but he immediately catches the sound.

He stops, and you open your eyes in panic. He told you to do whatever you felt like. There is no way he is mad about this, right?

He looks far from mad or bothered. He looks somehow more turned on than before, and the sound of him licking his fingers makes you shiver in anticipation.

You feel his mouth kissing your clit at the same time he curls a finger inside you. The moan escapes you before you can bite your lip, and you feel his smile between your legs.

You can’t help but rock your hips again, searching for his tongue, wanting to make him fasten the way he fucks you with his finger, but he is no hurry. He wraps his lips around your clit again and sucks slowly while his index finger stays unmoved inside you.

He’s a fucking tease!

Remembering his words from earlier but still hesitatingly, you let your back hit the bed and bring your right hand into his hair, pulling gently to get his attention.

He looks up, not changing anything, and you start stroking his hair. “Gimmie more. And... faster, please.”

You sound shyer than you wanted, but it’s the first time you have any kind of intimacy with this man. And it’s not like you have a lot of experience.

And thankfully, he doesn’t tease you more, getting another finger inside you, and he starts to pump them much faster. The way he sucks on your clit now is a bit different too, and it’s so good. You don’t even realize you’re pulling his hair until you feel his hand over yours, encouraging you to grab it harder.

“Don’t wanna h-hurt you.” It’s so hard to focus. “You have pretty... hair.”

The truth is that he has the prettiest hair you’ve ever seen, but you also never pulled your ex’s hair during sex. Ethan hated his hair being played with when he grew it out, and most of the time you wouldn’t even be able to pull it anyway since it was way too short.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Frank’s teeth teasing your clit. You’re extra sensitive.

“F-Frank!”

And it seems like he knows and he’s just messing with you.

This time, you don’t hesitate to move your hips, just not with too much force because you don’t want to suffocate him. But he seems like he does since he moans into your clit and starts basically suckling. You’re losing it. You’re losing it and you can’t even warn him. You’re coming all over his face with a hand in his hair and another grabbing the sheet under you.

He doesn’t stop any of his movements until you open your eyes and let go of his hair. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been pulling it, but you don’t feel bad, he seems to enjoy this a lot.

“You taste fucking fantastic.” These are the first words he manages to say between breaths, and in a second he is back on top of you, his lips shining with your wetness. You immediately bring your hand weakly to his chin and stroke his beard, which is also wet.

You shake your head a little, trying not to blush. He wouldn’t say that just for the sake of it... you can’t question it again, and you don’t know how to answer. What can you say? That he has a lovely tongue? So you choose to change the subject.

“Can I return the favor now, Frank?”

He frowns, closing the gap between your faces. “It is not a favor, princess.” And then he kisses you, giving you a taste of your own pussy. He’s not even trying to deepen the kiss, so you open your mouth, letting your tongue taste more of your wetness. His whimper makes you feel victorious, and you use it as an opportunity to explore inside his mouth. You can’t say you taste in a certain way, but at least it is not bad. Frank, on the other hand, has a taste you don’t think you’d ever get tired of.

“See?” He breaks the kiss. “Gonna get me addicted.”

You roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, now please tell me you have a condom.”

He freezes for a bit, and you almost groan in disappointment, but then he smiles. “Yeah, I think I have one or two. Old habit.”

You don’t say anything about his last remark as you watch him get off the bed and grab his jeans from the floor. You try not to think once again about how this will end soon and you’ll be remembering this night for a long time. And thankfully, he is back with two condoms, smiling as he opens one. He lets the other on the floor and before you can offer to help, he’s already ready.

“How do you want me?”

He looks at you surprised, probably not expecting this question, but you don’t know what he likes.

“Wanna ask you one more time... are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop-”

“I told you I want your cock, Frank. That I want you to fuck me.” You giggle nervously, spreading your legs. He didn’t decide after all. “Now please...”

“Need to fuck this doubt out of you.” He shakes his head as he positions himself between your legs, and before you can answer, he leans in, grabbing a pillow and placing it under your head. “Let’s see how much it takes for you to cry out my name.”

You’re not sure why you feel so nervous. He ate you out, you played a bit with his cock, yet somehow this makes you agitated.

You’re proud of yourself for not closing your eyes even after he enters you. Your body is trapped between his elbows, and you whimper, grabbing his arm to keep some kind of sense of your surroundings.

He’s much thicker than Ethan, and you find yourself trying to spread your legs even further apart, wanting to feel more of him. It’s something thrilling about this discomfort because it makes you crave more.

“You okay?”

“Ihm,” you gasp, trying to find your breath.

“Should I stop?”

“What? Why?”

You realize shortly after he giggles what he actually means, and you look away embarrassed.

“I meant inside you, darling. You’re, uh-”

He forgets what he was gonna say when you raise your hips to get him deeper inside you, and without asking him for permission, you wrap your legs around his ass. You need him all the way in even if it’ll hurt. You want to enjoy this to the fullest... every second of it.

And it’s absolutely a joy to see a man like Frank lose his focus.

“S-so good.”

“God, are you-” He moans when you rock your hips a bit more, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. “You’re perfect, fuck!”

“I n-need you to move, Frank. Fuck me, okay?” The more you try to fuck him the louder the impact of your bodies gets... from your slickness to his balls hitting your ass.

God, you never wanted to be fucked so hard more than now!

“Please, give it to me, I can... I can handle it.”

It’s like something snaps inside him because in no time you’re getting what you wanted. He’s fucking you and smiling in a way that you can only describe as devlish. It’s sexy, and mocking, and warm at the same time. It makes you lose your mind.

“Look at you, begging to take my cock, beg- fuck! Begging for me to fill this pretty pussy. So wet for me!”

You wrap your legs around his ass even harder, digging your heels a little into his cheeks when he starts pounding you into the bed. You can’t keep down your moans even though you try to. So you bring your palm to your mouth so you can bite it. But Frank doesn’t seem to like it. Not at all... He stops mid-thrust, making you cry, needing more, just to move your hand away from your lips and pin it to the bed.

“Under no circumstances, you’re allowed to do this again.” His tone might be authoritative, but his eyes are soft and warm. You can’t help but bring your other hand to his face to stroke his beard.

“Why not?”

“Be a good girl and don’t play.” He’s not waiting for you to respond, though. He lowers his face a bit more and kisses you, making it impossible for you to breathe as he starts thrusting again as well. The pace is faster, more brutal somehow than before. He swallows a few of your moans as you desperately cling to his shoulders, trying to gain some strength to roll your hips back to meet his. When you do it, he hisses, breaking the kiss just to murmur how wet and tight you are. How good you feel and how he’s never gonna be the same. You can’t focus on anything, especially not on his words. Your eyes are blurry from the tears, and you can’t stop moaning. It’s like you have no control over your body, and for once, it’s not scary.

You lose it, though, when he lowers his hand to your clit and circles it over and over again. It’s like something short-circuits your body. You’re no longer just holding onto his shoulders, either, you’re scratching them without realizing as you come still crying. The way you scream his name, on the other hand, is enough for Frank to come too, thrusting a few more times before falling on top of you; his head right on your breasts as the pleasure takes over his body. You don’t care how heavy he is as you watch him through the fogginess looking so content.

“Was it okay?” You whisper, caressing his scratched shoulder with one hand while stroking the back of his head with the other one. “Sorry for hurting you.”

“Did you just use the word okay to describe what’s just happened?” He raises his head before rolling over so he’d stop crushing you. “This is the best sex I’ve had in my life, Jesus! And hurting me? Please, princess, it was so hot.”

You snort, suddenly more relaxed. He enjoyed it. Probably exaggerating with the best part, but still...

“I guess you have a pain kink, Frank.”

A huge smile spreads on his face as he pulls you to his chest. You don’t care that you’re both sweaty, you want to cuddle with him. You only have a condom left, then you’ll be alone again. And you might never have this crazy sex ever in your life. The thought makes you wanna cry, but you need to focus on the present. He’s still here.

“Should I bring you some water?” You feel his lips on your forehead. “Gonna get you a towel. Want a snack? You’ll need your strength for round two.”

It looks like he’s in no hurry, so you take a deep breath and smile.

“Some water sounds great. I can clean myself though, no need to bother yourself.”

But he’s on his feet before you can even finish speaking.

“You better not move!”

[yoonia]

The (im)Perfect Ending | knj (18+)

⤑ Summary | There are stories written about meeting the right person at the wrong time. In your story, he was the right person who was all wrong for you to claim. He was your best mistake, while you were nothing more but a small chapter in his story. A story with an ending that had been written long before you came into the picture. But then life brings you back together again, allowing your unabashed hope to slither its way back in. The only thing you can do is to wonder—will this be just another interlude in his story, or are you given a second chance to rewrite your whole story, with a new pen to write your own happy ending?

⤑ Title | The (im)Perfect Ending ⤑ Pairings | Namjoon x female reader ⤑ Genre | Past Lovers!au, Second Chance, Infidelity, Smut, Angst

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story involves acts of infidelity. Both characters are mature, as the story is set years after their relationship ended. Namjoon is older than OC/reader (Joon would be in his mid to late 30s, OC is in her late 20s), so there is a bit of an age gap. There will be mentions and depictions of pregnancies and surprise babies. This story is purely fictional, any similarities in the usage of name and circumstances are purely coincidental. This is roughly edited, but I hope it won’t affect your reading experience too much.

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; infidelity, older man!Namjoon, former underclassman!reader, soft dom!Namjoon, alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, surprise babies, involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, mentions/implications of first time sex, partly clothed sex, clothed foreplay, kitchen sex, biting, rubbing, groping, body worshipping, dry humping, dry orgasm, dirty talk, mentions/implications of deep-throating, mentions/depictions of public sex, pain kink, praise kink, stripping, nudity, implied size kink, breast/nipple play, hand job, neck kissing, finger sucking, fingering, clit play, oral sex (female and male receiving), grinding, riding, biting, face fucking/riding, cum eating, hair pulling, light choking, manhandling, begging, crying (not really involved during sex), reader may have gone into a headspace at one point, orgasm control (minor/implied), doggy style, rough sex, vanilla sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, implied creampie, aftercare.

⤑ Word count | 43,8k words

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi | Music companion

⤑ Read on AO3

⤑ Continue with short story: Our Imperfections

Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if we had met earlier.  If my life would be different today if I had made different decisions then.  Had it been me who decided to walk away, just when you finally opened your heart to me?  Had I been reading things wrong, and that your parting words had meant something else?  I wonder if the things that you said to me then were never meant as words of goodbye, but a wish for something more. That we could be something else.  But there is no way that we could ever change the past, is there? And look at us now.  Our past decisions had only left us stranded on each of our own’s paths, and we have become nothing else but broken pieces drifting in the ocean of sorrow and pain, where our memories became nothing more but rotten dust haunting us in our dreams. 

“Hi.” 

A moment passes, and just when you are starting to believe that this is just another one of those dreams that have been haunting you during your long and lonely nights, the man standing before you speaks. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel its vibration reaching deep in your chest. You can almost feel his gentle words caressing your skin when he answers, 

“It’s been a while.” 

If you had thought that you have had his smile engraved so profoundly in your memories, then you would have been wrong. Because the moment he smiles, it looks nothing like what you remembered. It looks much better. Way better. And it shouldn’t be stirring the flutters in your chest or bringing warmth within your body the moment you get to see it again after so many years have passed. 

“I think ‘a while’ sounds like an understatement,” you find yourself speaking, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds when every bit of your senses seems to be shaking in his presence. He softly laughs at your comment, and it sounds so rich that you feel your heart swelling and beating faster. And you hate it. 

Because your heart isn’t supposed to be doing these things. Not after so long. 

“You, uh—you look good,” he says, coaxing a smile out of you, though you try your hardest to hold it back from showing. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Kim Namjoon,” you answer him, drawing his smile to grow a bit deeper. And again, you hate it. Not his smile. It would be impossible to hate his smile. You just hate the way you are unable to look away from it, or the way you find yourself being drawn further when his smile lingers. 

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Namjoon says with a tenderness that isn’t supposed to be present, before his eyes flicker down, shamelessly taking you in. “Are you on your way back from work?” 

Glancing down at your handbag, the one that is so obviously showing him the necessities that you regularly carry with you to work, and then to the blazer you are wearing over your cashmere sweater and the pair of jeans that you always wear on the days when work is going slow, you nod with a smile. “Yes, I just got off,” you answer him, and the brief reprieve that you get by looking away from his face brings everything back—the movements from the crowd around you, the sounds coming from the chatters and the shops in the surrounding area—every single thing that is currently happening around you. Everything that has been muted in his presence comes flooding into your senses, reminding you of where you are. 

You weren’t lying when you told him that you were coming back from work. You have no idea what had driven you to stop by at the mall tonight, when you would normally return straight away to the warm comfort of your small and quiet apartment after a long day. But seeing him standing before you, an actual presence of himself instead of a mirage, you wonder if it had been fate that brought you here.

“I figured I could spare some time to do some window shopping before going home,” you continue, though it sounds more as if you are reasoning with yourself instead of answering his unspoken question. 

“You’re alone, then?” 

You nod. “Yeah, I am.” 

“Then, uh—” he stops, suddenly looking a bit unsure with himself for a brief moment as he takes a quick glance around. “Do you have some free time before you go home? What do you say about grabbing coffee with me? I would love to, uh—catch up.” 

You should say no. Refusing his invitation would be the only sane and mature thing to do, but the words refuse to come out of your lips. Walking away would be the right thing, just like how you did the same years ago. But just like then, before the choice to grow mature and wise ever came to you, your heart chooses differently for you. And it would be the one option that you have yet to decide if it would be the wrong one, or something that you would never regret in the future. 

“Yes, I’d love to.”

“I see that some things haven’t changed,” Namjoon says as he looks the coffee selection that you ordered—iced cappuccino, double shot, no whip cream or sugar. Your eyes fall on his order as he places it on the table before he carefully takes the seat right across from you. 

Double Iced Américano. 

You still order the same thing as well, you wonder to yourself instead of voicing it out loud. “Some things have changed, though,” you find yourself saying instead as you take a slow sip of your cold drink. 

“I guess so,” he softly laughs. “You wear your hair longer now.” 

“And you’ve gotten married.” 

You never meant to sound snappy about it, yet the words simply slipped right out of your lips before you could stop it. But you find no remorse when you look up at him to see his reaction. Instead of getting flustered, the look in his eyes shows no change in its light. There is a tease there in his gaze, the one that had once stolen your heart—and has yet to return it as whole—years back, but there is also the astonished look that you are still quite familiar with. The same one that he would give you for your sharp tongue, which was something that seemed to amuse him a lot then, and may amuse him today still. 

“So you’ve heard the news.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Heard of it?” you scoff at him. “Obviously, there was no way I would’ve missed it when I had the delightful privilege to receive the invitation through my mail.” 

To your pleasure, he seems surprised to hear this. His eyes grow wide, and there is a sourness that you feel coming from him as he gives you a wry smile. “I never—” Namjoon stops himself and closes his eyes. The sigh that comes out of him sounds exasperated, filled with pure exhaustion that pricks at you right in the chest. “She must’ve sent it to you,” he murmurs softly almost to himself, and you can almost hear the disbelief in his voice before he looks up at your face. 

“How kind of her,” you dryly say to him, and you indulge the pleasure of seeing him react with a grimace. 

You keep your eyes on him as you sip your coffee, to see the apology that is written so plainly in his gaze. Silence lingers, and you wait with bated breath to hear what he is about to say.

“I’m—” 

A tight clench rises in your chest when you start to predict what his next words would be, so you quickly stop him before he could say them out loud. “Don’t,” you whisper to him. “Don’t apologise for her when it’s not your fault. It makes it even worse.” 

Namjoon shakes his head slowly while keeping his gaze low, and you enjoy seeing the sight of remorse that appears all over his face. You shouldn’t be entertained by this, but somehow, it feels—good. 

It feels cathartic to be able to dump all of this on him after years of keeping this to yourself, as there had never been any chance for you to speak to him after you parted ways. And you cannot deny the pleasure you are feeling from seeing the pain that flickers in his eyes. It appears only briefly that you might have missed it had you not been keeping your eyes on him. 

But it still helps make you feel as if all the past hurt that you had to keep inside for many years had all been worth it. Only for seeing him experience the same thing you did then; to be caught off guard and completely at a loss, without knowing how to react or feel when reality was thrust back at your face, forcing you to open your eyes to see it. 

Back then, you simply took it as your punishment. Because, in a way, you did deserve it. 

You both did. 

“I’m not apologising for her. For anyone, on that matter. I’m apologising on my own behalf,” he says with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. That was”—he swallows thickly—”that seems so wrong, in so many ways. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt.” 

“Then don’t,” you calmly say to him, once again surprising yourself when you manage to keep your voice even, or to keep a smile on your face when you finally get to look at him in the eyes as you are telling him all of this. “Don’t even try to understand how I would feel because you may never understand. Besides, it was a long time ago, wasn’t it? None of these things matter anymore.” 

A wry smile comes to his face, and instead of feeling happy about it, you feel—angry. 

Despite everything that had happened, despite all the hurt, you hate seeing how it seems to be weighing on him. You hate wondering about the kind of guilt that he might be feeling now, if there is truly any. Instead of celebrating it, all you want to do is to reach across the table to console him. 

The thought almost makes you laugh. Yet you wonder if perhaps everything that people around you kept telling you back then had been right, that time did heal you, after all. Because the pain that nearly killed you years ago no longer hurts as much as it did back then, even if you can still feel remnants of it residing inside your fractured heart. 

Years ago, even saying his name alone would have made you feel as if every part of your heart was breaking into pieces until it felt like you had none of it left. Years ago, you even found yourself wishing that you could hurt him the way he made you feel. Yet that feeling no longer exists now when you are looking at him. It doesn’t feel good at all to see the way his eyes dim at the knowledge that he has a hand in causing you pain even long after everything between you had ended. 

But healing isn’t supposed to bring a wave of new emotions rising inside your chest as you look into his eyes—be it to feel sympathy and to wish that you could take away the sorrowful look that you see gleaming in his gaze. It isn’t supposed to bring back all the old feelings that you had long buried deeply, or to have all the memories of the past come flashing through your mind the longer you look into his eyes and be in his presence. 

Your skin prickles uncomfortably as the feeling grows more intense. Walking away from him would be the right thing to do for you. Just like how it did when you had chosen to do it that many years ago when you walked away from his life, leaving him behind with your heart fractured and only a small dignity of yours left intact. 

And yet, something tells you that you might be too late. Even the memory of your past hurt wouldn’t be able to help convince you to walk away, when the strong pull of his presence is impossible for you to deny.  

Sometimes my mind would wander back to the letter that you sent me then.  To remind me of the words that you had secretly hidden between the letters, between the consoling words that you gave me while you talked about broken dreams, fallen hopes, and unanswered prayers.  ‘I love you.’ For a long time, I wished and prayed so badly to hear those words coming from you. Yet the moment you gave them to me, there was a sense of finality hidden among them that was impossible for me to ignore. Those words you sent to me gave me happiness, sadness, relief, and grief, because it had sounded like an answered prayer to me, while at the same time, it sounded like a goodbye. An end to the sinful journey that we both started.  And then I left, because loving you was becoming too much, too painful, knowing that there was a different future waiting for you at the other end of that journey. I left while knowing that I had earned your love and carried a piece of your heart with me, because I could never bear the thought of having to let go of your love and giving your heart back so you could give them to another. Because even after goodbye, you were still mine, just as much as I would always be yours.

“Why would you choose to walk down that path when you knew that there was no light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel?” 

A good friend of yours gave you those exact words then, after you shared with them everything—about your secret, about your sin, about the forbidden love that you had to hide from the world which you preserved only for him.

Namjoon had been with her for a long period of time before you met him. A story that had been written long before you came into his life. But love never chooses to whom it would fall onto, striking you so deep in the chest ever since the day you first met him and you were unable to ignore it when it began to blossom. For a long time, you tried to fight against it, to deny its presence, and you kept refusing to acknowledge it. But no matter how hard you tried, the feeling kept growing stronger, fighting harder to survive until it took root within you so deep that you finally had to admit defeat. 

You should have kept it to yourself. To keep it as your own dirty little secret until it would fade away with time. And yet, just like always, the truth managed to find its way to come out onto the world, no matter how hard you had tried to conceal it. 

And when it finally happened, he never looked away, nor did he ever deny or push you out of his path. Instead, he chose to embrace you, to hold you against his chest just when you tried to run away and bury your feelings for him. Instead of pushing you away, he kissed every drop of tear that you had shed when you allowed yourself to bare your heart for him to see and let him know that you loved him. 

The moment that you fully accepted that your love for him was forbidden, and that there was no way you could allow that feeling to grow any further, he chose to abandon all logic and came to find you instead. You were ready to say goodbye, and yet he pulled you into his arms and kissed away every broken word that was leaving your lips, opening his heart that was supposed to have been claimed by another just so he could keep you as a part of him, unwilling to let go. 

“If this story had been written with a different ink, a different pen, or even a different hand, then perhaps we could have a different ending.” 

Those were the words that Namjoon gave you then, when he held you through what was supposed to be a cold and lonely night. It was the night that he spent piecing every broken part of your heart which had been shattered when you bare your soul for him. Those words were supposed to help you see that there was already a different ending written to his story, while yours remained unseen. An unwritten plot that the universe had yet to reveal. You should have realised it then, that the two of you would have never been a part of each other’s ending, and that your paths would only end in an intersection where he would have to take a different path to yours.

But Namjoon made it hard for you to see it when he spent all night making love to you, allowing you to see and feel what it was like to be in his arms, to feel his touches and kisses, and to embrace pleasure that no other man but him could have ever given you. Then he continued to make it hard for you to open your eyes and see reality when he kept you blinded by his love, binding you to him with the wanton pleasure that he kept showing you each time he saw fear and uncertainty in your eyes. 

You knew then that it was wrong to continue, yet you found it hard to end your sinful act when it felt so right to be in his arms, to be kissing him so freely until he could feel all the love you kept inside. Never once did you feel any remorse, even as the long nights progressed into weeks, months, and then years, until the moment everything fell apart. 

The memories which keep flashing in your mind to remind you of the past should also remind you of all the hurt, of all the despair that you had gone through back then. Instead, just like then, you choose to keep your eyes closed shut and push them all the way to the back of your mind as you return his kisses, to revel in his touches, as you once again fall into his warmth after he opened his arms to let you back in. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” you try to speak between the deep kiss you are sharing, though whatever you are trying to tell him quickly fades and withers when he kisses them away, drawing a series of soft moans instead of words. 

“No, we shouldn’t,” Namjoon simply answers as he pulls away from the kiss, yet he gives you no sign of letting go. From your lips, he trails his kisses down the column of your throat, pressing his hot kiss right against the very spot on the side of your neck that would always make you squirm. How he still remembers how to find it is beyond you. But he does it so naturally, as if the years that you spent apart had been nonexistent. 

“And I thought you said that you had to go home,” you try to speak again, though the moans that keep escaping you and the way you keep arching into him are betraying your words, allowing him to see how much you meant none of it. 

“I did say that,” he hums against your skin. This time, he does pull away, barely, just enough so he can look at your face while his arms are still wrapped around you, denying you a chance to escape. “But going home is the last thing that I have in mind right now.” 

“What—” you almost choke, almost finding it hard to speak when you open your eyes and you get to see the familiar look in his eyes looking back at you. The deep passion, the love, the desire—everything that you have missed for so long now appearing right before you. Things are not supposed to turn out this way, and you are not supposed to let that silly little hope of yours being revived from the deepest part of your soul where it had been buried and left forgotten when you ask him, “What are you thinking now, then?” 

“You,” Namjoon says, sounding determined and completely sure of himself, with not a slither of doubt can be heard from his voice. “All I have in mind right now is you. All I can think of right now is all that I want to do to you, and what I want to make you feel.” 

“And what is that?” 

His eyes seem to be lost in you as he grazes your lips with the tip of his thumb. “Everything. I want you to feel everything, so you’ll remember how good we were together.” 

But I never forgot. 

That small voice of conscience finally reveals itself, only to admit the truth that you have been denying to hear.

Perhaps that had been the reason why you refused to end the night when it was time to part ways with him after that impromptu coffee date. Maybe that was the reason why you invited him into your home, the small apartment that would usually feel so cold and desolated, now burning hot with the desire that you are sharing with him. 

Whatever it was that had crossed your mind when you opened the door to your home for him to enter had not been anything close to this, nor did it involve him lifting you up onto the kitchen counter where he can part your legs for him so he can step closer, pressing hard against your heated center as he captures your lips once again into a deep kiss. 

You barely managed to take off your shoes right after you entered through the door when he pulled you into his arms. With his lips capturing yours, he managed to shut your mind until he succeeded to corner you in your own home, placing you in the same position as you did back then when you first gave in to the desire which he aroused inside you. 

There are words still left unspoken, but everything else becomes nothing more than a blur of motions as you easily melt into his kiss, and it doesn’t take long for you to realise that he was right. 

Every touch he is giving you, every kiss, every soft hum that he releases when you return every single sinful act of his continue to bring you back to the past. You have never forgotten how good it felt when you were with him, and the memories from the past are only making things better, intensifying everything that is happening to your body and what he is doing to you now. 

A groan slips out of him as he moves to slip your blazer off of your shoulders. Once it is gone, your sweater comes next, and he leaves you breathless as he easily pulls it over your head and tosses it away. 

With your upper body now exposed and your chest is heaving with your deep breaths, he comes to a halt. His eyes trail down, resting on your breasts. With only your lacy bra left to cover your skin, his gaze feels like a gentle caress. You can feel its heat, as if he is touching you with his fingers when they remain on your waist, keeping a gentle hold on you there with only his thumbs moving in small circles and keeping away from where your body is warming up under his perusing gaze. 

The moment he finally moves, everything within you sparks alight.

Deft fingertips are moving on your skin with a light touch that is not bringing as much heat as his gaze does, yet the responses your body is giving to his touches are intense. Your body simply burns hot with your desire and you have never before felt this alive. As he kisses your lips, his hands trail their way to your covered breasts, touching the area where you are most sensitive to his touch. He easily brings back a part of you that has been lying dormant. Your senses are being awakened by his touch, and he makes you feel as if you have been asleep for so long and he is waking you up with his kiss, his touches, and the soft sounds that he makes as he slowly devours you. 

“You’re more beautiful than how I remember you,” Namjoon says as he pulls away from the kiss, almost whispering when his words are filled with raw emotion mixed in with his desire. 

“I’m flattered that you still remember me,” you answer him with a shaky voice, drawing a low chuckle out of him.

“How could I ever forget you?” Namjoon looks at you straight in the eyes as he says this. There is an invisible clench in your chest when you can clearly see that he is being sincere. And it scares you so much to see it that you simply choose to deny it.

“Don’t speak as if you’ve spent your life thinking about me when you’ve been living your own life for the past seven years,” you say to him, though it is becoming a struggle to keep your voice even this time around when the fractures in your heart begin to reemerge together with your memories of him, refusing to be ignored. 

Your words cause him to raise his eyebrows. “You won’t believe me if I tell you that I do think about you?” 

Scoffing at him, you try to press down the hope brewing in your chest that he might be telling you the truth. “And supposedly you did think of me, then what would you be thinking about?” 

“Everything. I think about everything that has to do with you,” he immediately answers, once again making you believe that he actually means it. “I would think of your face, your beautiful smile, and the sound of your voice.” His eyes search your face, and he is taking his time with it as if he wants to memorise everything about you, while his hands begin to move again. His fingertips are gentle as they come grazing on your skin, yet it is still enough to make you shudder, to feel warmth rising from wherever he is touching you. 

A ghost of a smile flickers on his face once he notices this. “Other times, I’d think about your skin—how it grows warm when I touch you, especially right where you are sensitive to be touched. Like—” Namjoon gazes down as his hands slide upward, until his fingers reach the hem of your bra and his thumbs graze against your soft mound, drawing a gasp out of you when you feel a sudden heat rushing through your body. A grin appears on his face at the way you are responding to him by arching your chest into his touch, and he softly hums, “Yes, just like this.” 

Your breath is caught in your chest when you feel so much within such a short amount of time and with only the little things that he is doing to you. His deep gaze continues to bring you a myriad of sensations that intensify everything that his touches are bringing to your body, while his words are causing the flame within you to come back alive. 

You say nothing to him in return, taking in everything that he is trying to say. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be completely done with baring his truth yet, and the more you listen to him, the more you find it hard not to bare your own truth for him to see.

“I would think about your eyes. I could never forget the way you look at me, and how honest those eyes always become that I would almost always be able to know what you are thinking,” he continues, and you can hear the tremble in his voice. As if he is overcome with emotions as he is saying those words. 

“And I would think about the gloss that would appear in those eyes when you are feeling something so intense. Just like how they look to me now. But I always love looking into them more when I’m touching you,” he says this with a small smile, his eyes looking deep into yours while he continues to move his hands, gaining more confidence when you make no move to stop him. He reaches up to brush his fingers across your covered breasts, his steady palms pressing into the lacy cup that your bra seems to melt under the heat of his touch. 

Taken over by the delectable rush flowing through your body, your chest arches into his hands and your soft moans start escaping your lips before you can stop it. Then he draws more reaction when he moves his thumbs and presses down at your covered nipples, causing you to gasp and almost miss the words he is saying next, “And I love the way you would look at me when I’m making you scream my name while you—” 

Come. 

The word echoes in your mind as he suddenly moves his fingers to pinch around your nipples, causing your entire body to quiver with the mixture of pain and pleasure that he is drawing from your body. 

Pleased to see your reaction, he draws his hands away, moving them to your back as he leans closer. As his fingers begin tugging at the clasps holding your bra together, his lips return to yours, distracting you with a deep kiss while he works to peel the flimsy thing off of your skin. He has it in his hand when he pulls away from the kiss. With a flick of his wrist, your bra disappears from sight. He wastes no time to continue further. His hands return to your body, touching your bare breasts with his gentle touch which gradually grows firmer, drawing shudders from you as the warm skin of his palms come brushing across your hardened nipples. His hands linger for a moment longer before he continues trailing them down the curves of your body that he can reach. 

You are left speechless, unable to speak or react other than to allow yourself to revel in the pleasure. With your mind muddled in bliss under his wandering touches, it is hard to control the way your body is responding to everything that he is giving you. Each pulse of your blood feels hot in your veins, as it flows down from the parts that he is touching to the center of your desire hidden all the way down south. A raw, unfiltered want that feels so intense and is completely beyond your control takes over. Holding on to the edge of the counter with a tight grip, you begin rocking your hips, pressing down against the cold surface of your kitchen counter to satiate the pulsing need coming from your core. 

His own hunger is palpable through his eyes as he is watching you move. The sight of you trying your best to quench your need seems to entrance him. It draws a deep groan from his chest right before he moves, stopping you from going further without him being a part of it. 

Gripping you at the waist, Namjoon brings you forward until you are at the edge of the counter. Your legs slide open and part wider for him. He tugs you against him, pressing your softness against his hardness as he captures your lips again. Your body shudders when you can feel him, as the testament of his desire comes brushing against your covered center. 

Your hips jerk when he presses into you harder. Even with both pairs of pants getting in the way, it is still not enough to hide the intense pulses rising from both of your bodies. Taken over by your own pure and raw instinct, your hands rise, gripping at his hair as your mouth moves against his, returning his hungry kiss with your own. His arms grow tight around you, holding you firmly to him as he sucks your bottom lip until he draws another gasp from you. An intense shudder runs through your body with the pain that he inflicts on you, though the way your breasts are rubbing against his hard chest is quick to wash it away, replacing it with a blissful rush that almost pushes you over the edge.

Tightening your hold on his hair, you begin to move again, rocking your hips against him at a steady pace, gliding and rubbing the source of your heat against the hard line of his cock that you can feel straining from under his pants. You hear him moaning at the friction, though the sound that he is making gets drowned into the kiss as he continues pressing his lips on yours. 

Namjoon catches your lower lip again and sucks harder, drawing a whimper through your lips just as you are rewarded with pure, unsheltered pleasure. A pleasure that rocks you through your soul, one that ignites the desire inside you until you cry out, drawn by its intense wave rushing through your body. Breaking away from the kiss, he takes you in his arms, holding you against his chest until the shudders of your release slowly winds down. Warm breath lands on your bare shoulder as he softly sighs, finding content in the way your bodies fold together in a tight embrace. 

“I missed this,” he hums, though his voice almost sounds like a moan. As if watching you unravel is already enough to put him on the edge. He tightens his arms around you, keeping you engulfed in his warmth as if he is afraid that you might slip away. “I missed us. I missed everything.” 

“I missed us too,” you murmur against his neck with a content sigh. Breathing in his scent, your body slowly recovers. With a deep inhale of breath, you pull away from him. Disappointment sparks through his eyes when you gently push him off of you. Once you are apart, his whole body stiffens. There is no doubt in your mind that he is expecting to see guilt in your eyes when you look up at him, and perhaps for you to kick him out of your home once the blissful fog fades and reality sinks in. 

Because the two of you have crossed the line, and there is only one option for either of you to choose to fix this.

Deep down, you know that choosing the most logical option would be the wise thing to do. To end this now and never look back again. But with the soft hum of your pleasure still surging through your veins, and your heart is beating in a way that is making it seem as if it hadn’t been truly living and beating the entire time you spent your life without him, you know that it will be too late to turn back now. There is no way you can continue living without his touch now that he has managed to rouse your soul back alive. Now that he has succeeded in reminding you of how good he can make you feel.

“What I missed the most is to touch you,” you murmur with a sigh, and his eyes grow wide. No doubt he is completely caught off guard to hear you say this instead of telling him to walk out the door and kicking him out of your life. A visible sigh of relief comes out through his lips, though his shoulders still seem tense.

“Is that really what you want?” he questions you. And for the first time ever, you notice that he has grown nervous as he anticipates your answer. Seeing this helps eliminate every single doubt that you may have felt since the moment he came through the door and he chose to let go of every last bit of his restraint to kiss you. Because you can finally tell that he sincerely wants this too. Hopefully just as much as you want this to happen.

Without looking away, you answer him with, “More than ever,” before reaching down to start pushing your pants down your legs. You shift on the counter and raise your hips to lower your pants, almost stumbling when you can barely hold up your weight until he lends a hand. He is quick to make a move to gently grab your waist to keep you from falling while you kick away your pants and your flimsy—and now completely soiled—panties, until they are out of the way. 

Seeing that you are now completely bare for him, he makes his move to strip down. You reach for his shirt just as he begins pulling at it. It takes merely a few seconds until it is gone, followed by his shoes, socks, and then his pants quickly joining the pile of mess laid on the floor, and there is not a single thread left as he stands before you. 

For a moment, neither of you makes a move.

It feels like the space around you falls into a blissful silence as you find yourselves completely stripped bare, with nothing left to get in between as you are facing each other in the silence of your kitchen. Aside from the light coming from the microwave behind you, neither of you had the chance to turn on the overhead lamps that would normally light up the room. The existing light casts a soft, nearly muted golden glow across the room. Under the dim lighting, he glows. Just like how he would often appear to you whenever his presence would come to visit you in your dreams at night. 

Just like how he took you in, you take this chance to look at him properly. From his bare chest, you find the faint scars that you have always remembered seeing on his skin, the hidden marks that you used to trace with your fingers, and the dent on his waist that you used to hold when he was making love to you. 

Through his strong shoulders that feel hard under your palms and his toned torso that flexes under your gaze, you find the most change that he has gained so far, with strong muscles that have grown during the years that had gone by. There are visible signs of ageing that are also beginning to show on his skin, his lower torso, and even on the strands hidden in his thick hair, but none of them could take away any part of his beauty that you can openly admire. 

In your eyes, he is still the perfect man that you have ever known. He is perfect in every single aspect that you can find in him. Not just physically, but everything else that lies within, most specifically the part of him which had drawn you into him the first time you met. 

Yet what you are currently drawn into has everything to do with the physical aspect of his, as your eyes fall on his hard cock that has been drawing your attention by looking hard and ready. 

Just for you.

Your heartbeat picks up once you get a clear view of how much he wants you. Under your gaze, his cock seems to come alive as you see it throbbing, twitching slightly as his want grows just as much as yours. 

“You said something about touching me,” Namjoon teasingly whispers, breaking the silence that has grown thick with tension as your hunger for him grows. His lips tip up at one corner, forming a small grin as you look up to him. A flush of warmth spreads through your cheeks, yet he helps calm your unsteady heart when he gently adds, “Show me that you meant it.”

His words encourage you to move, to show him that you meant every word you said to him through your actions alone. Your hands are trembling as you reach up, choosing to start from the face that has been haunting your sleep on those cold, lonely nights, and you gently touch his cheeks with the tips of your fingers. His gaze remains on your face as you move your hands down, grazing his jawline, his chin, down the length of his neck, feeling every sharp edges and smooth dents, grazing briefly at the soft stubble that is barely visible on his skin. 

His breath is caught as you brush against his chest. His taut muscles grow tense under your touch as you keep going lower. A shiver runs through his body when you reach his lower torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the marks on his skin that you used to find yourself getting drawn into. The shiver intensifies as you reach down to brush across the thin line of coarse hair beneath his navel, and then everything in him halts when you continue gliding your fingers lower, as if he has lost his breath and every last will that he has to move now that you are getting closer to his erection, the clear evidence of his desire that has been calling for your attention ever since it was revealed to you. 

“Don’t stop,” he says with a raspy voice when your touch lingers just an inch away from his hard shaft. His hands have found a gentle hold on your waist, where they remain as he keeps himself from guiding you so you can be the one to set up the pace. But as he speaks, he slowly moves his hands upward, finding their way back to your bare breasts. He moves his thumbs in lazy circles, starting from the underside of your breasts and continuing up to the peak. He nearly distracts you from your intention in his effort to ease your mind into it, until his gentle voice is heard once again, nearly pleading as he whispers breathlessly to you, “Please, don’t stop.”

You wait with bated breath until his thumbs reach your nipples. The lazy circles he makes continue, moving even slower now as he anticipates your touch. Tiny waves of pleasure rise with the gentle way he is touching your hardened nipples, as he grazes the pads of his thumbs across each one, bringing up shuddering delights through your body that sends warmth inside your core. 

That is when you finally move, starting with a gentle, almost tentative brush of the tips of your fingers across the length of his cock. His body jerks at your touch, yet he doesn’t stop moving his own fingers on your skin, keeping the light shudders alive. So you do exactly the same as you slowly reach down to move your fingers around the base of his cock, touching him and circling around its girth.

Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath as he shudders under your touch. His mouth parts when you drag your palm along the length of his hard shaft, following the veins that are pumping hot blood to the tip of his cock. While you are giving him pleasure through your soft caress, your eyes flutter to close as your past memory washes over you, bringing back all the old sensations that you once savoured from touching him like this.

“It’s been”—you sigh—“so long.” 

Too long. 

With gentle fingers, you carefully wrap your hand fully around the base of his cock, using a light grip that draws a deep moan out of his lips once your palm comes in contact with his hot skin. His head falls back when you start moving your palm, gliding back and forth from the base to the tip and then coming back up again, sometimes adding a light pressure between each stroke. The shudder that runs through his body comes out with his deep exhale of breath, one that shows you how much your touch is affecting him. 

It has been too long since the last time you touched him like this, yet it seems that your body still remembers everything. As if every inch of your hand and fingers still remember all the right touches that he likes, how to be able to draw all the right reactions that are now beginning to affect you as well. 

“Fuck, you’re right. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this good,” he groans breathlessly between his deep moans, drawing a soft, bitter laugh out of you.

“You’re not the one who has been spending the nights alone without anyone touching you the right way,” your words come with a sharpness that doesn’t seem like something that may come from you at all. But at the same time, it sounds familiar, and you know that it has come from a cavity that exists deep inside your heart. 

Because it sounds hurtful. And you can almost hear the sound of the fractured pieces of your soul emerging through each word you give him.

Those pretty eyes of his find you as they snap open in his shock, though he only looks at you with half-lidded eyes when you keep up the light strokes you are giving him through the length of his cock. “You have no idea,” Namjoon barely grits out, and he is gasping at the end of his words when you tighten your grip just a tad as you drag your palm to the tip, enough to draw a rough shudder through his body. He lifts one hand away from your breast, clasping the nape of your neck as he leans closer. 

“What don’t I know?” you find yourself speaking, breathless with each word coming out of your lips as he draws his face closer to you. Instead of answering your question, he captures your lips, silencing your mind—and perhaps his own—as he kisses you deeply, devouring you like a man in need of air. 

Namjoon suddenly breaks away from the kiss and bends lower. His mouth quickly finds the neglected nipple and gives it a light suck, while his fingers continue pinching and rubbing on the other. Seemingly lost in the rising pleasure, his hips begin to move, rocking and pumping into your palm. Sucking a deep breath, you relish the pleasure that he is giving you, not even minding it when he begins to pull the hair at the nape of your neck to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. 

Despite losing in himself, in his own need and pleasure, Namjoon manages to move his hand from your breast and reach down between your bodies. Between your parted legs, he finds your dripping pussy, and he immediately groans as he feels your heat and dampness on the tip of his fingers. The latter seems to increase under the touch of his fingers as you rock into his hand. 

“Fuck—you’re so wet,” he moans once he unlatches his lips from your nipple. His breath sounds rough, deep and heavy with lust, and you can see it clearly coming out through his gaze when he stretches himself to his full height. Keeping one hand still on the nape of your neck, he draws his hand back from your hot pussy and gently grips your wrist to peel your hand away from his throbbing cock. “I think”—he groans—“things will end too soon if we continue this way.” 

The corner of his lips curls to a grin when he hears the sound of your soft whine when he pulls your hand off of him. You watch with hazy eyes as he entwines his fingers with yours. The dampness that he gathered from you is still coating his fingers as he presses them against your hand, while your palm is still warm after touching him. He lifts your entwined hands to his lips, and he presses a soft kiss on your wrist. The act distracts you, taking your mind away from him as he steps closer, stepping between your parted legs while gently tugging your body towards him.

You draw a sharp inhale of breath once your bodies come in contact, pressing against each other, bare skin against bare skin. The sound you make seems to do something to him when he closes his eyes and shudders against you. Once he opens his eyes again, he lifts you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He does it so gently, as if he is being extra cautious so there is no possible way you would break into pieces in his arms. As if you are a little fragile thing that might shatter if he is not careful. A feeling that you share as you hold on to him tightly, except that in your mind, he would simply disappear if you would only blink or lose contact with his skin. 

But the latter seems almost impossible to happen, when he doesn’t give you any sign of letting go. Not until he finally reaches your bed. Namjoon carefully lays you down and then comes down with you, crawling over you with an intense look appearing through his gaze which makes your heart race rapidly. 

Propping himself on his two strong hands which sink into the bed, Namjoon lowers himself to you. He captures your lips, giving you a kiss that is soft and gentle, yet deeply filled with his dark passion at the same time. He draws a moan from you as he slips his tongue in, brushing against yours for a brief contact before pulling away with a shuddering breath. With a sigh, he rests his forehead on yours. 

“Tell me you want this,” he whispers, triggering the sane and logical part of your brain to start fighting against your conscience once more, the one that is supposed to help you think more clearly yet has already fallen victim to the desire residing deep inside your heart.

You close your eyes, savouring the warmth that you feel from him while trying to listen to the voices in your head to help you decide what you truly want. As you open your eyes again, meeting his eyes with more resolve, you know that he can already find the answer before you can even make sense of your own thoughts. 

You should end this before it would be too late. You know that you should. But once again, you choose to listen to your heart. You push every thought about letting him go to the back of your mind when you reach up to him and wrap your arms around him to pull him down, to kiss his lips without any single restraint. 

“I want this, more than ever,” you murmur against his lips and slowly rock your hips against his, rubbing your hot slit against the length of his cock. “I want you. Now.” 

A sharp inhale of breath comes from him, as if your words snap something inside him. Enough to give him reasons to let go every inhibitions that he has left and help him find his own resolve. You can feel it when he presses his lips on yours, giving you a deep kiss that puts you into a haze. He reaches down, gripping your thigh to part your legs for him so he can position himself at your center. Your heartbeat picks up to a rapid speed when you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance, and your body tenses as you anticipate what is coming next. 

But when he moves, he is kind and gentle, just the way you remember him doing the same back when you were still together. It helps eliminate everything else so that all you can feel is his presence that spreads all around you, filling up all the hidden crevices and the void inside your soul. There is no remorse daunting you when he slowly slides into you, once again uniting both your broken souls and bodies together after spending many years of being apart. 

Tears fall from your eyes as you arch in your pleasure and he dips in, kissing those tears away the same way he did back then, all while he continues rocking, moving steadily in and out of you as he makes sweet love to you. He makes you feel and relive all the sweet and sinful love that quickly becomes so intoxicating that you instantly know that it would never be enough. Not now once your body is reminded how addicted to his love you were in the past, and how deprived of his pleasure you have been through the years you were apart.

So you relish the love and pleasure that he is giving you while you are able to. With your arms wrapped around him, you pull him down. All the way down until your mouths meet each other in a deep, passionate kiss, drowning your moans as he pumps into you in a slow and steady rocking. 

“More,” you beg him with your lips grazing over his. “Make love to me, Namjoon. Please. Do it harder, make me feel you deep inside me.” 

Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath after hearing your words, and he starts rocking faster, pushing deeper, until he is buried so deep that he almost reaches the hilt of your warmth. All at once, every part of your body and his come apart to a shuddering pleasure, and the sounds that you both are making as you embrace it together fills the entire room. 

“Oh, fuck”—he moans deeply—“you feel…” 

His words fade into another moan as he pushes into you even deeper until he can go no further, and you cannot blame him for not being able to finish his words. Because there is nothing that can explain this feeling—the feeling of fullness, the perfect fit you feel with him buried deeply inside you, and the waves of pleasure that come to engulf you the moment you are joined as one. 

Instead of continuing to move, he comes to a halt and simply remains still. As if he wants to relish the warmth that comes surging through his body and the way your walls flutter around him, while you revel in the way your pulses seem to fall in the same rhythm as his, as if you have become one. 

Namjoon has his eyes closed when he sighs. And when he opens his eyes again, your heart makes a gratifying flip in your chest from seeing the truth that resides in his gaze. The corners of his lips lift to a smile, making him look both irresistible and arousing when the glow in his eyes are filled with lust and a glimmer of pure love.

“All the memory I’ve ever had about being with you like this can never compare to this moment,” he says with a voice so gentle that you almost miss it under the loud sounds of your racing heartbeat. The moment his words sink into your muddled brain, what he is trying to tell you draws a gasp from you. 

“You still remember,” you whisper, and as much as you hate it, the feeling of hope—that little stubborn thing—blooms. “Do you—” you try to question him, even when you are worried to hear his answer. “Do you think about this? About us?” 

His smile softens, while there is a cloud forming in his gaze when he looks at you. “Like I said,” he whispers with a deep sigh. “You have no idea. No idea at all.”

Before you get any chance to question what he means, Namjoon begins to move. As if he is taken over by the memory of the past and the deep lust that he has for you, he starts thrusting in and out of you, going slow at first, but deep enough to rock your entire body beneath him with each thrust. The sound of your moans grow gradually louder with each pump of his cock into your depth, as he allows his emotions to flow out of him, causing his strokes to grow more intense as he continues.

The pleasure that you are feeling is incomparable to anything else that you have ever felt before, from anything that you have shared with anyone other than him. It feels too good to be true, so good that you insist to keep your eyes open so you can see him. To make sure that this is real, and not just another one of your lucid dreams that have been taking you back to him. 

The feeling of his girth brushing against your walls is real, so is the spasms of pleasure that you feel rising from the depth of your core. Your hips rise to meet each of his thrust, while your chest arches as you are embracing the pleasure that comes with it. His grips on your hip and thigh grow tighter as he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck before he bites at your skin, causing you to cry out his name when the pain increases the pleasure. 

“Namjoon—!”

“Cum for me. Show me that I was right, that we are perfect together,” he whispers to you. His voice fades in and out through your fogged brain, yet you can still hear his words, and you can feel your body responding immediately to his subtle command.

As if you are spellbound under his words, the waves of your climax wash over you and you embrace it with a sharp cry. It comes to you hard, harder than you have ever experienced it before. Not even when you were together in the past. Your body trembles violently beneath him while your intense orgasm pushes him over the edge, and soon you feel him shuddering above you. His cock slides back into you with one final thrust, pushing against your pulsing walls as he releases every drop of his essence inside you, filling you up with his warmth. He comes with his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering close, and a rough, breathless shout slipping out of his lips as he falls into his release.

For a moment, your entire world comes to a stock-still. Your mind remains caught in the blissful haze of your climax, while that same haze flows through your body like a soft hum. Opening your eyes takes quite an effort, and you only manage once his whispering voice pierces through your haze, softly calling you back to him as he slowly recovers from his own high. 

When you finally manage to return to the present, half expecting to open your eyes only to realise that all of this has been nothing but a dream and you would wake to find yourself alone in your cold bed, you are immediately met with his beautiful eyes and his dimpled smile. Within moments, your haze fades into null and every part of your sense clears out, allowing you to take in this moment, to see him as he hovers above you with a deep passionate gaze looking down on you. 

Both of you are breathing heavily, still needing time to recover completely. The sound fills the entire room that has somehow grown excruciatingly silent. The air around you feels thick, and you can hear nothing else other than your racing heartbeat which seems to fall in the same speed as his. Still attached to each other, he lowers himself, bringing his hot body that is veiled with a thin sheet of sweat, pressing down his heat onto yours as he gently embraces you, and you welcome him with your arms wrapped around his body.

It takes a few more minutes before your bodies finally settle into a state of calmness, and then a few more until you are both cleaned of all the mess that had been created, until you feel less icky about yourself just enough to let him take you back in his arms. 

“I thought you said you had to go home,” you whisper into the silence that surrounds you as he holds you from behind. His bare chest is pressing against your back, bare skin against bare skin, with your hearts beating together in a steady rhythm.  

“I am home,” he says, his voice sounds so soft, yet you can feel it piercing through your chest. Just when you open your mouth, ready to question his change of heart, he gently turns you over so you are now lying on your sides, facing each other. His lips are lifted to a slow smile, only moments before he leans closer to kiss your lips and steal your words away. “I’m right where I want to be. This is where I belong.” 

Tears are threatening to fall down your cheeks as a wave of emotions come surging through your chest. But you close your eyes and lean into his embrace, basking in the warmth that he is offering you to continue reminding yourself that this is not a dream. 

Still, reality is quick to sink in once silence falls. No matter how hard you want to deny it, the safety of this comfortable bubble that you have created with him can only be temporary. Outside, the world will continue to revolve and the reality of your circumstances that is slowly forcing its way in is starting to press down on you. Sooner or later, you will have to return to face the real world and wake up from this dream. 

“People will start looking for you,” you whisper to him despite not wanting to. 

Because that was how it happened. How your secrets unraveled and your sins came to light. When his disappearances were questioned, and people kept finding the shadow of your presence everywhere around him when he returned—the sweet and spicy perfume that was not his yet somehow lingered on his clothes, the trinkets that would somehow find their way into his things, the songs that he never listened to before but he enjoyed because you would play them to welcome your bright mornings. Once your sins were uncovered, you were left with no other choice but to end everything, sending him back to his original path while you continued to find yours. 

“Let them,” he says, though you can already sense that he is wavering. Doubt creeps into your thoughts when you catch the dark look in his eyes. A dark look of uncertainty that seems so daunting. It pinches at a deep part of your heart when you can already feel him pulling away, not because he is intentionally doing it, but because the world is trying to pull him back into the path that he briefly stepped out of in order to spend this short moment with you. 

You close your eyes, silently preparing yourself and your delicate heart to face reality. It would be one of the hardest things that you would have to do in life, especially after experiencing the bliss of being brought back to life and to indulge in his love which is completely forbidden for you to take. But it would be the right thing for you to do. 

You need to let him go.

It takes almost an hour later before you finally find the will to peel yourself off of him and convince him to return home. Back to the life that he has built without you. The life that he has with another who is more deserving of his love. 

He almost seems to be dragging his feet as he makes his way to the door of your apartment, while it almost seems to you that your mind and body are separated as you join him. No matter what you keep telling yourself, this night no longer feels real to you, even if you can still feel the ghost of his touches on your skin that is still completely bare under the robe that you are wearing. You can also breathe in the scent of his cologne that is clinging on your body. You lift your head to watch him, and your heartbeat dips when you realise that you are sending him home with traces of your sinful tryst tonight all over him. 

The shirt that he wore tonight seems a bit crumpled on the sides, right where you gave it a good grip when you were helping him strip out of it. There are some buttons that are still unlatched on the front, while the bottom hem of his shirt is left untucked from his pants on the back. The subtle note of your perfume seems to waft as he walks, clinging somewhere either on his shirt or on his body together with the musky scent that belongs to him. Your gaze follows his hand as he moves to carry his jacket over his broad shoulder, the collars hooked on his long fingers—the same fingers that he used to touch the most delicate part of your body—with an ease that fits together with the pure confidence that he often wears on his skin. You continue looking up his full height, and notice the unruly hair on the top of his head which he has opted not to touch and fix on his way out for his own selfish reasons.

“Because there are trails and evidence of your touch here and I don’t want to erase it. Not this soon.” 

You take an inhale of breath and swallow hard at the words that he gave you when you questioned it. There is a lot to unpack from his words, and you only have a little time left with him to waste on trying to understand what he meant by it. 

Too soon, you are standing at the door—with you remaining inside the threshold, hiding one shaking hand in the side pocket of your robe and the other by holding tightly on the door knob, and he is standing on the other side of the doorframe, already a step further away to get out of your life and returning to his own. You hold your gaze on him for a moment too long, giving in to your desire and selfish wish to commit this moment deep in your memory, to be able to remember his entire being so you can cherish the memory of this night during your lonely nights alone.

“I guess this is it?” he asks you when you fall silent, unable to find your own voice to speak. 

You open your mouth to respond, ready to say goodbye. But the words hang on the tip of your tongue when a lump grows in your throat as you try to say those words out loud. You have expected that it would be painful to say it, to see him leave after bidding goodbyes. Yet you still cannot bare the pain. 

Because you clearly still remember how it was like back then to feel it.

Namjoon must have caught on to this when you clam up and try to avoid his gaze, because the look in his eyes softens and he carefully takes a step closer to return to you.

As you try to look away, he cups your face with his big palms so you would look up to him. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he says. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel all the emotions that he is putting into his words. 

His promise feels so heavy on you, yet so pleasant, that you drop your chin and look down to hide your bitter smile. “I remember when you made that same promise once,” you whisper softly to him, though still loud enough for him to hear.  

You look up again just to see him looking back at you with his kind eyes and his gentle smile, everything about him that shows how pure his soul truly is. Tonight, that smile of his appears to you sweeter than ever, especially when he reminds you of the past once more when he says, “Then you should remember that I kept it.” 

You do remember. Because that had been the start of everything. When he showed up at your place to keep the promise that he had given to you and he made you a sinner. 

Goodbye is too painful of a word for you to speak, so you choose to say something else. Something that is less painful, and holds a bit more hope than it should.

“Goodnight,” you whisper with a broken smile. “And thank you.” 

You choose to not finish the sentence, keeping the words that you want so badly to say to him for yourself as you close the door, drawing the line between the two of you as you send him back to where he truly belongs. 

Thank you for coming back into my life. Even if you cannot stay.  

Every time I had to let you go and watch as you return to your life, my heart would always feel heavy.  I would listen to my guts as they told me that it was going to be the last time that I was able to see you, and I would prepare myself for the hurt that might follow. But every time you left, you kept promising that you would return. And every single time, you kept that promise. Always coming back to me when I was prepared to live a life without you in it. Sometimes I wonder…what would our lives be if you had never kept those promises you gave me.  Sometimes a part of me even wished that you hadn’t kept them.  Because things would have been so much easier if you had just forgotten about those secret pledges you had given me. Things might have been much easier for me if you had lied and purposely hurt me from the start. Maybe I would have been able to leave sooner. Maybe then…I wouldn’t have been falling in love with you more and more, or let myself be swooned by all the expectation and hope that you helped plant inside this silly little heart of mine.

Namjoon kept his words. 

Within a few days, he returns. The evening had just fallen when he comes knocking at your door, surprising you with a jolt rising inside your chest when you see him standing there, with an easy smile on his face as if he has no care in the world. As if he is not supposed to be somewhere else other than here. 

“You…came,” you whisper in your shock, drawing his smile to grow wider. 

“Didn’t I promise you that I would?” Namjoon asks you with a tease in his words. But the moment he takes in the look you are giving him, seeing no smile or joy but finding a hint of your apprehensiveness in their place instead, his smile slowly fades. It shouldn’t surprise you that he is still capable of reading your emotions. A look of genuine concern and sadness fills his gaze when he, no doubt, can see the look of relief and astonishment in your eyes for seeing him. As if you had expected that he would never come back.

“You still don’t believe me,” he murmurs gently with a mixture of surprise and sorrow flashing across his gorgeous face. 

“I just—” you try to answer with a soft voice. A resigning sigh escapes you when you explain your feelings to him with the only way you could, “It’s hard.” 

Not too surprisingly, he only responds to you with a nod. “I understand,” he says, as if he truly knows exactly how you feel. That he truly understands how hard it would be for you to allow yourself to hope. To allow yourself be vulnerable when there is a risk of you getting hurt again like before.  

The grip that you have on the door handle tightens. It would make sense if you close the door right now instead of welcoming him back in. This thought had crossed your mind for the past few nights, as you tried to picture every possible scenario you could think of about how you would react should he ever keep his words and return to see you, or if he never shows up again at all. You had thought of all the choices that you would have to make—whether you are to let him back in or to say goodbye, to forget about your chance encounter and continue living as if the magical night when you were reunited never happened. And each time, you promised yourself that you would do the right thing this time around. To not repeat the same mistake you did then when you were younger and you chose to give in to what your heart desired. 

But here he is now, standing right in front of your door to return to you—as promised. It only takes you looking deep into his eyes, to see the familiar gentleness in his gaze that is enough to have your resolve waning. 

Pressing your tongue on the inside of your cheek, you mull over your choices. Everything within you keeps telling you not to cross the line. Not again. And you have the chance to make things right this time.

“Have you had dinner yet?” you find yourself asking. That is not what you were about to ask him. But you regret nothing when a smile grows on his face. And you are definitely not thinking about the other life that he is stepping out of as you step aside, allowing him to step back into yours. 

Even when you are apart, your lives would always intertwine. 

And the moment you are together, the connection that you have between you doesn’t spark. It detonates like fireworks blasting in the dark night sky above.

Dinner was a swift affair. You were in the middle of cooking your meal when Namjoon came knocking at your door. As if you already had an inkling that someone else would be joining you for dinner, you had been cooking for two, enough for you to share the meal with him as you sat down together at the kitchen counter. 

Casual moments like what you just had tonight—one that is as simple as having homemade dinner at home with light conversations and a glass of wine on the side—had become a huge part of your memories that you cherished, because they never lasted as long as you wanted them to. Things had always been so quick to escalate when you were spending time with him, and anything that started simple and innocent would always end up becoming a fiery affair. 

And that is exactly what is happening between you tonight. 

In the past, you simply believed that it all happened only because you both realised, deep down, that your affair had an expiration date, and you simply wanted to make the most of it by sharing your passion and love in the nights that you shared together. You even made yourself believe that it was nothing more but a part of your dynamics that had once helped make things work between the both of you. That it was the reason why your relationship lasted the way it did even when you had to constantly remain in the shadows, hidden from the world. 

Tonight, as you once again fall into the same pattern as before, as you find yourself giving in to that dark temptation after spending merely a short amount of time alone with Namjoon, you realise that there had been more to it. 

There is tension that has always been there when you are together. Always so intense, always so palpable that it would be impossible for it to be ignored. Once it is there, it wouldn’t take long before the two of you are immersed in each other’s arms, as you give in to your carnal desire and allow yourself to drown in your sin. And there is also the strong connection that you feel with him which intensifies everything you feel when you are with him. A connection that has never been diminished by the passing time. All it would take is for one of you to snap, and every bit of that comforting casualness fades and the wave of wanton desire would immediately take root. Just like what just happened merely minutes ago. 

Once the relaxing moment you shared at dinner, which allowed you to pretend that you were just like any other—normal—couple, you now find yourself entangled in another passionate, extremely heated exchange. All because Namjoon made the casual remarks about what happened the last time he was here—bringing up all the things you did with him right atop the kitchen counter—and shared his wish about wanting to lie you down on the cold surface this time as he savours his dessert. 

The comment he made snapped you out of your resolve, sending you jumping out of your chair to join him in his. Your legs are spread on either side of him as you rest on his lap. You can feel the semi-hard cock that still manages to poke against you from under his pants when you press your body against him. His strong and broad chest feels like a wall of muscles under your fingertips as you press into them through the thin shirt that he is wearing. 

“I really think I’m liking this position right here,” Namjoon says with a groan. There is something that lingers in his gaze as he looks up at you. It makes you feel completely exposed, as if he can see through the fabric of your clothes—the tank-top and shorts that you had put on for a leisure evening before he came—and see nothing but bare skin. At the same time, you also feel treasured, when his perusing gaze feels like gentle fingers tracing every inch of your skin instead of making you feel as if he is simply stripping you down with his eyes. 

It makes you feel a myriad of emotions through your chest—some that makes you feel hot with new desire and the need to touch him further, and some that may bring tears in your eyes from how deeply he makes you feel.  

There is too much to unpack with just a single glance, so you decide to delve into the one emotion that you know so well. The need that seems to only grow more intense as he runs his gaze down your body and his strong palms come down to cup your covered ass. You start grinding your hips down on him, feeling his erection that you can feel growing under the restraint of his pants. The absolute ache in your core intensifies, and you rock harder above him, enough for him to feel your softness. His head falls back as he groans, while his palms are pressing on you and his fingers are digging into your soft bottom cheeks as he guides your rocking. 

“This is”—you moan into his neck when the pleasure you are feeling is accompanied by a sharp pain as your knees come in contact with the wooden backrest on his chair—”awfully uncomfortable.” 

The soft chuckle that he releases sounds strained, as if he is already on the edge and he is trying to hold it back. “Should we take this to your comfortable bed?” 

Despite agreeing to his valid suggestion, you despise the thought of having to stop and peel yourself away from him. Not when all the rocking and grinding are starting to ease the ache that you feel in your core, replacing it with a steady pulse of pleasure. “Moving only means that I have to stop touching you,” you say with a whine. You barely recognise your own voice as a moan slips out of you the moment you feel his covered bulge rubbing your clit. 

“Not necessarily,” he once again chuckles, and then he presses his lips on yours as he jerks you closer to his chest. He briefly captures your gasp with his kiss and pulls back once you no longer feel tense to whisper, “Wrap your legs and arms around me.” 

Namjoon’s voice sounds gentle, yet it also sounds commanding, that you immediately move to follow his orders. You wrap your arms around his neck as he scoots forward on his seat and your ankles join at his back to cling onto him. The look of appreciation that he gives you as a reward is more than enough to make you feel good about yourself. 

“Good girl. Hold on to me tightly and try not to let go until I tell you so,” he praises you with pride lingering in his words, and that feeling escalates into something more. Something new and unbelievably pleasant that you feel some warmth growing in separate places—from your chest and down to the place that is now wet and soiled after rubbing on him so wantonly like an animal in heat. 

His grip on your hips and bottom cheeks tightens, and he takes you with him as he rises from his seat. He does it with so much ease that it makes you feel like you are floating in the air. You don’t even feel any fear of falling, knowing that you can fully trust him to keep you from falling on your butt. 

As Namjoon gently carries you to your bed, you start to notice more tidbits about him that you missed from the last time you spent the night together. You had noticed then how his body has changed. His body that used to appear almost lanky in his full height has now been filled with more muscles, making his shoulders and chest seem wider, broader, stronger, and his arms that appear more toned as they flex under your weight while he is carrying you away to your bed. 

As he gently drops you on top of your messy sheets—you did lie down on them earlier right after coming back from work—you run your fingers down his shoulders to his biceps, taking hold for a brief moment before letting him go as you fall on your back. He steps back, taking you in with his perusing gaze the same way he had done it before. 

The sound of his deep sigh pierces through the tense air. It fills both the quiet room and the cavity in your chest. It keeps you under an invincible restraint as he continues to hold his gaze on you while he begins stripping out of his clothes. The sight of him peeling his shirt and pants down feels cathartic. Like a piece of your dream is manifesting right before your eyes. What had filled your lonely nights had been nothing but a mirage, while he is truly here at this moment, with his true presence that you can feel even without touching him. 

It isn’t until he is kicking down his boxer, relieving his semi-erection from its last restraint when you finally feel the urge to move. Your hands itch, feeling the need to touch him, to stroke him until his cock grows to its fullest size and then take him in your mouth. A grin rises on the corner of his lips when you lick your lips, unable to contain yourself, and he seems to get a gist of where your mind is wandering off to. But just when you expect to hear him bring it up and tease you, the only thing that comes out of his sexy mouth is, “You are so goddamn beautiful.” 

Your eyes grow wide. That is certainly not what you expected to hear. Yet his words are still enough to bring the flush on your cheeks right back, and that warmth you felt earlier comes back in multitude of places within you.

Including the void deep within your pussy. 

“Let me see you, baby. Strip down for me.” 

Your eyebrows are lifted. Once again, you are caught off guard when he does what is least expected as he remains standing there, gloriously naked with his cock almost fully erected and the delectable ridges of his toned torso is all open for you to gawk at. 

Pushing yourself up, you slowly come up to your knees. Locking your gaze on his, you continue to move, reaching down to the hem of your tank-top and pulling it up, revealing to him the lack of underthings covering your skin when your breasts are freed. You can only hear the sound of his sharp inhale of breath when you are pulling the tank-top over your head, obscuring your view. But once the fabric is gone, you are met with the sight of his dark gaze. His hunger licks on your skin. His cock twitches, slowly growing hard just by seeing you half naked. 

Without a word, you hook your fingers around the waistband of your shorts and start sliding it down your thighs. It falls on your knees, and you fall back so you can kick it all the way down to your ankles. 

That is when he finally moves again. He reaches out to pull those shorts off of you and flings it away. His hands quickly return to you, brushing your skin gently starting from your ankles, tracing up to your calves with an excruciatingly slow pace which makes you feel tingles rising all over your body and not just the places that he is touching. By the time he reaches your thighs, your legs are quivering, almost as intensely as the thrums of your heartbeat. 

He continues going up, sliding his fingers around the apex of your thighs and reaching to the center. He grazes his fingertips over your panties and sucks a deep breath. His voice comes out to a near growl when he murmurs, “You’re so wet already. I can feel it from here.” 

He draws a moan from your lips when he presses down at your slit, coaxing more dampness to soil your cotton panties. Then a cry slips out of you when he touches your covered clit, rubbing on it until your hips are raised, meeting up his touch with the need to have more. 

The pleasure rises, and he suddenly stops before you can get there. He pulls away from you, and before you can even start protesting the loss of his touch, he moves his hands up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts easing them down your legs. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers once you are left with nothing else on. Nothing but your bare skin and the warm flush of lust running through your veins. “Absolutely stunning,” he continues with a shaky voice, as if his words are weighed down with both his pure desire and the deep emotion that is taking over him. 

Lost in his gaze, you resist every urge that you are feeling to shield yourself away. You hide nothing as you bare yourself to him—your body, your heart, your soul—the way you never had before. Despite this, even when you are diving into this willingly, with your heart and mind completely open, it doesn’t stop you from trembling as you lie beneath him the moment he climbs up the bed and slowly crawls his way over you. His gaze finds yours, and it feels like something simply snaps into place. As if everything is suddenly right again, and you are finally right where you belong. 

“This is where I belong.”

His words from the other day return to you as you briefly close your eyes. Despite the certainty that you could hear through his comment, your mind has been filled with your own denial, still refusing the chance to hope. One look is all it takes for you to feel the walls and the stubborn denial crumbling, when you find nothing more but sincerity and something else that is deeper than his dark passion coming out of his beautiful eyes. 

With your hands back on his shoulders, you pull him down to you. His hard cock twitches between you once it comes in contact with your hot pussy, but you focus on drawing his mouth on yours. And your mouths clash into a deep, hungry kiss, leaving you breathless while your entire body seems to burn in the heat of the moment.

His strong hands come back down, opening your legs for him with his tight grip on each thigh. Namjoon slowly rocks over you once he is settled nicely against you, brushing his cock against your hot slit, over and over again, with the dampness from your pussy making it easier for him to move. His cock feels slick as he grinds against you, and you know that he can feel the slickness that has reached down to the inner side of your thighs. 

Each stroke of his length against your slit makes your body tremble. Each time the head of his cock brushes against your clit, a strangled cry slips out of your lips. Once he falls into a steady pace, your hips begin to rock together with his. Your inner walls contract, needing to be filled, and you find no shame in expressing what you need as you break away from the kiss and run your hands down to cup his strong and ample buttocks, pressing him into you to show him what you want before you say it out loud. 

“I need you—” your voice breaks out into a soft gasp when he pushes himself up and cups your breast, only keeping one hand to prop himself up. 

“Yes, tell me what you need.” 

“You,” you gasp. “I need you. Inside me. Now.” 

With a grin on his face, Namjoon continues rocking and begins playing with your nipple. A gentle brush of his fingers brings your chest to rise. A pinch around the nub draws the sound of your sharp cry, and it almost feels like you are gushing right beneath your legs to the sensations he is bringing to your body.

“Say the magic word,” he teases with a groan. “Say ‘please’.” 

You give him a dirty look at his silly command, only to quickly yield when he begins to pull away, causing the flutters in your pussy to intensify. An immediate reaction that your body is giving you to remind you of what it needs. That you will not be able to rest until your needs are sated. 

“Please, Namjoon,” you finally start begging him, giving in to what is most important to you right now. Because you also know that your body isn’t the only thing that needs him. “Please, fuck me. Take me. Make love to me. I need you so—” 

The moment you begin begging him, giving him what he had asked of you, Namjoon has already started moving. His hips are lifted. His hand is between your bodies, reaching down to find your clit. It is his touch that steals the words right out of your mouth when he presses his thumb and forefinger on your rosebud, pinching it lightly before slowly rubbing it to ease the pain. 

As he watches you responding to his touch—with your head falling back onto the pillows, your hips arching to embrace both pain and pleasure, and your moan growing louder—he pulls his hand away from you and wraps his palm around his shaft. Keeping his eyes on your face, he gives himself a few strokes before guiding the hard tip of his cock at your wet entrance. 

The wet tip dips in, and Namjoon comes to halt, remaining still for a moment until the intense pulses rushing through both of your bodies start to wane. “Since you asked me so nicely,” he says with a cocky grin on his face, “I am more than pleased to give you exactly what you wanted.” 

Your mouth falls open, yet you cannot remember if you were planning to answer him or if you are simply giving him a silent cry as he pushes his way in. Your pussy walls break to a spasm as he glides deeper, moving in one inch and pulling back, then returning to get another inch deeper. He repeats the motion a few more times until you are adjusted to his size, until your pussy is more welcoming, allowing him to slide in to the hilt. 

Your hips rise once again to meet him as he gives you the final thrust that puts him all the way in until there is nowhere left for him to go. This time, he doesn’t wait. He doesn’t linger, even when you can hear the sounds that he is making as the rush of pleasure goes through his body. Even his head has fallen back. His eyes are fluttering close for a brief moment, yet they quickly open to find yours again when he begins rocking his hips. 

A shuddering gasp is drawn from you from the delicious way his cock is brushing against your pulsing walls. Sliding in and out, he makes you feel all the burning sensation again, over and over, and you can feel him slowly picking up his pace once pleasure takes over.

Every jerk of his hips becomes sturdier as he continues moving. Each thrust feels maddening, the way it wakes all the rush of pleasure, the delectable bliss that rises like subtle waves. Each gentle touch from his wandering hands bring everything together to a notch, even when he reaches up, pressing his firm hands on your breasts that have been rocking and shaking as your bodies rock together in the same intense rhythm. 

And you take in everything. Always with your eyes open, refusing to deny yourself the glorious sight of him embracing his pleasure. Always with your hands touching his arms, his shoulders, sinking into his back. When the wave of your climax hits, there is nothing that can stop it from coming. It engulfs you like a massive ripple taking you down to the depth of the ocean and plummeting you to the ground at the same time. 

Your entire body quivers, shaking in its release. The sound of your moans and cries bounce against the walls, and they are quickly joined by the sharp cry that he releases as he falls into his own release, pushed over to the edge by your blinding orgasm. 

The feeling that washes over you in your climax is deeper than content. It fills you with warmth, not only deep below as he fills you with the essence of his release, but also deep in your chest, where you are filled with love and compassion that are deeper than the wanton desire that you share. 

Because in your climax, the desire that has been running through your body is not the only thing that it fulfils. In your release, your souls are intertwined together, joining the two of you—two hearts, two bodies, two souls—into one. 

Have you ever noticed how quickly time would pass whenever we were together?  Maybe that had been the reason why it never felt enough, when it seemed like we had just gone through a blip, and all of a sudden, our time was up. Suddenly, I was forced to see you go. For you to go back to the one you had promised your heart to first.  I have gone back to those moments I shared with you, over and over again, holding onto them tightly because memories are all that I have been allowed to keep from you. There had been many, many memories that we created together, yet they were still not enough. Am I too greedy? For wishing that we could’ve gotten more?  Or am I too selfish? Too dumb? For believing that I deserve to have more of you? To be able to keep you as a whole instead of just fleeting memories that would one day be replaced with new ones?  Was that the real reason why it was so hard for me to move on? When nobody that I ever met after you could never hold the candle when compared to you.  They could never compare. Because all I ever wanted was you. 

Unlike the last time you had to see him walk out the door and was made to wait for a few days until he finally returned to you, Namjoon hasn’t made you wait again for the past two weeks since his return. 

Every night, he has been coming back to you. You should have been questioning it. To wonder why he has been making it so easy to choose where he would sleep at night when you have been a complete nervous-wreck each time, haunted by the thought that things would suddenly start crumbling down without you ever having enough strength to stop it from happening. Haunted by the pain that you would have to endure once he slips away from your life once again. 

But after what happened the last time you talked about it, when you reminded him that he still had a different home to come back to, fear and uncertainty continue to torment you. 

What if the moment you question him about it, he suddenly has a change of heart? Then he would change his mind, finally realising that he was never supposed to be here with you from the beginning and to start thinking that everything has been nothing but a huge mistake.

What if the next time you would have to watch him walk out that door, it would be the time when you finally witness him walking out of your life? That he is never going to return, leaving only the shadow of his presence in your home? 

That is why you have chosen to keep all of those questions to yourself. To bury all the doubt and allow everything to fall into its course. You admit that you are being selfish about this, but you still want to enjoy the time that you have together where you get to hold him in your sleep and wake up to his smile the next morning. 

And just like that, time continues to pass. Each night has always been followed by a gloomy morning after where you would have to part ways with him as both of you must face real life responsibilities. Every day, you would be wondering if that morning was going to be the last time you would ever see him again. But each night, he would always come knocking at your door, ridding every bit of doubt that you ever have as he returns to you, always with a smile that makes it seem like it is a normal thing for him to be here with you. 

And Namjoon continues to do so each and every day, keeping his promises to come back into your arms until the days blend into weeks. 

Two weeks. When the realisation dawns on you of how much time has quickly passed, you wonder how it is possible for you to feel as if the days simply blurred together, making you believe that all you had done so far is to blink, and time simply went away. But you know that it is not true. It shouldn’t be making you feel vulnerable, continuously haunted by the fear that your story with him will be cut short—just like how it did back then—just when you believe that everything would be different this time. 

Each night, you always close your eyes with a feeling of acceptance. Always with your heart prepared and your eyes half-opened just so you wouldn’t fall back on your butt once the rug is pulled right under your feet and things would have to return to the way they were. When it would be time for both of you to return to your own paths. 

You take what you can for now, to cherish all the fleeting moments that you have with him, because you know that time has never truly been on your side.

You reach out to search for him in the dark of the night. 

Your chest feels hollow when you suddenly anticipate finding an empty bed, with only his warmth and the scent of his cologne left behind after he slipped away without saying goodbye—just like what you had once experienced in the past. But your breath is caught when instead of finding cold, messy sheets when you stretch out your hand, you find his warm skin under your fingertips. The steady thrums of his heartbeat can be felt under your touch, letting you know that he is still there. 

That his presence is real.

“Why are you not sleeping?” Namjoon’s deep and hoarse voice breaks through the silence. His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you can still sense his exhaustion when he shifts under your touch. Guilt immediately overcomes you when you realise that he was probably awakened by your movements, as Namjoon has always been quite a light sleeper. And it is making you feel more guilty when you remember that he needs to have good rest tonight more than ever, knowing that today has been quite rough on him. 

You could easily tell that he was having a hard time the moment he walked into your home tonight. With his shoulders slumped forward, his gaze that looked dull even when he tried to force a smile when he first saw you, it was unmistakable how drained he seemed to be both mentally and physically. And that was before he started stumbling in his steps as he entered your home that you had to catch him before he could fall on the floor of your dining room. 

You had wondered what might have happened during the day while he was gone, when his lively self that you saw in the morning had returned to you looking despondent and defeated. Despite your curiosity, you forced yourself to bite your tongue and kept your questions to yourself when he said nothing about it. All you could do was to help him relax and get his mind off of it, while hoping that he would eventually share his troubles with you once he was ready.   

It took quite an effort, yet you finally excelled in helping to ease his mind by going down on your knees and taking him deep in your mouth. Each lick of your tongue around the head of his cock and each brush of your lips across his length washed away every distress that he had, taking them away bit by bit until he was moaning in his pleasure. But it wasn’t until he came to a climax—with his hands clutching your hair tightly as he kept your head in place so he could thrust his cock so deep that he was hitting deep into your throat, and his cum landing on your tongue, filling your mouth, then slipping down your throat—before the tension in his body finally faded away completely. 

Then you both went straight to bed, calling it a night after the long day that you both had. Finding cure through the warmth that you shared while being in each other’s arms, you had fallen asleep with the hope that both of you would be able to forget about all the troubles that you met through the day and be ready for the new day tomorrow. 

But it is when the silence gets so deep when dark thoughts return to you. They start getting into your head, pulling you out of your relaxing slumber for you to wake up far too soon with an unsettling feeling lingering in your chest. It feels to you now like an invisible weight pressing down on you, making it hard for you to even breathe. 

Thoughts about him disappearing in the night and leaving you with a broken heart have been haunting you. They come to visit you in the night, tormenting you even when you have fallen asleep with his warm embrace engulfing you. Tonight, that tormenting feeling seems to rise within you even stronger, bringing back the doubt that clings in your soul like a forlorn hope each time you are reminded of the anguished look that he wore when he first came home to you.

But as you manage to find the glint in his eyes through the dark, you know that you wouldn’t be able to tell him all of this. Not in the way that would only burden him with your insecurities while he is already dealing with a lot of things on his own. So you simply reach up and place a palm on his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your cold hand as you turn his face to look at you. 

“Have I told you that I’ve been having dreams?” 

The question that slips out of you—completely unbidden—has him raising his eyebrows. “No, I don’t remember that you have. What kind of dreams?” Namjoon curiously asks you, looking genuine as always to know more about what is going through your head.

Your lips lift to a small smile as you think deeply about it. “It’s odd, really. Before we met again, I would always have wonderful dreams. They mostly involved you and I’d wake up the next morning regretting that they hadn’t been real,” you share with him with a soft voice. Looking back to it now, you can barely remember what actually happened in those dreams after seeing him in them. As now that he is truly here, those dreams have been quickly replaced by memories. New memories that you are building together with him. Which only brings you to wonder, “but now that you’re here, and I’d get nightmares—” 

You stop for a brief moment. Your eyebrows are lowered as you recall the short dreams that you have been having lately. The dreams that seem ominous, and they haunt you even during the day when the fear of losing him suddenly manifests out of thin air. “Like how I’d dream about watching you go or waking up at night and realising that I’m all alone in my bed, just like I had been before you came back into my life.”

With a soft sigh, Namjoon touches your chin with his gentle fingers and guides you to look at him. “I’m here. You can feel me being here, don’t you?” he asks you as he brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing it against his heartbeat.

Closing your eyes, you press against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat with your palms so you can savour it. It brings a smile to your face when you feel it quickening under your touch. “Yes, you’re here. You’re real,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Then he brings your hand to his lips to kiss, silently asking you to open your eyes again.

“Maybe—” he whispers to you while clasping your hand, “I can show you just how real I am.” 

His words become the final warning as Namjoon captures your lips, kissing you slowly, tenderly, allowing you to feel him. Your body relaxes under his. Your head falls against the pillows. Warmth pours through your body as you move your hand to the back of his neck to get him to kiss you deeper. Then he shifts on the bed, sliding closer to your body under the blanket, and you get to feel quite a bit more of him.

You pull away from the kiss with a gasp, and he yanks the blanket off of his body, baring his bare skin for your eyes to see. Even in the darkness, you can still see the hard lines of his cock. Even when it is hardly grown to its full width, its solid girth stands at attention under your gaze. After all the years you spent touching him, learning all the ridges and veins on his body with the touch of your fingers, and then going back to those memories again by relearning everything about his body during the recent time that you have been spending with him, you can almost see it clearly without the need of light helping you see everything. The muted glow of moonlight mixed with the city lights filtering through the window also come to play when he moves closer, as they help you see the glistening bead of pre-cum that appears on the head of his cock, slipping out of him as it subtly throbs the more you give it attention. It makes your pussy wet just to see it, your hot walls clenching on the inside, while your mouth waters with the urge to have another taste. 

No words are shared as you climb on top of him to straddle his waist. Despite feeling confidence at first, you start feeling off-balance once you sit down on him. Moving in the dark while being taken over by lust might be the reason why, so you place your hands on the pillows right on either side of his head to keep yourself up. With your upper body practically hovering above him and not a single fabric left on to cover your skin, your breasts hang over his face. This brings the look of hunger through his eyes that seems to glow in the dark. You can feel it transpiring from him before he lifts his hands to touch you.

“Oh, yes. This position has definitely become my favourite one so far,” Namjoon says with a whisper that fades to a groan as he cups your bare breasts. He does it with tenderness at first, bringing all the shivers in your body until you relax into his touch. Then he starts squeezing them, pressing them hard enough until it hurts in the most pleasant kind of way which draws a moan from your lips. 

That pleasant feeling rises from your core, sending your hips swivelling above him. Your body quivers when the head of his cock brushes against your clit, then he intensifies it further as he lifts your breasts and captures one of your hardened nipples into his sinful mouth. 

“Ah—fuck,” you moan at the sensation that he is bringing into your body as he sucks, and licks, and swirls his tongue around your hardening nub. Your head falls back, yet you also feel as if you are getting fully awakened as you continue moving and rocking over him, brushing your hot slit along the length of his cock. 

He releases your nipple with a pop of his lips and groans at the pleasure that he is feeling. Lifting his hips, he lets you feel the firm press of his erection when he murmurs, “I want to be inside you.” 

With a gasp, you open your eyes to see him. The dark hunger that you saw earlier has been taken over with another. A look that shows more passion and a deeper kind of lust that encourages you to make a move. Licking your lips, you reach down between your legs, finding his hard cock that feels heavy in your palm. You keep your eyes on him as you lift your hips and position the tip of his cock at your hot entrance. Slowly, you start lowering yourself back onto his lap. The thick head of his cock parts your tight opening, teasing and coaxing you with its width. His hands are gripping tightly on your hips as he guides you to sit down on him. Your body trembles as you take him in, taking inch by hard inch of his length until he is fully seated inside you. 

“Is this…oh, fuck!”—you hisses when the tip of his cock comes brushing against your pulsing walls—”is this okay?”

“Perfect,” he hisses right back, just as you let out a moan at the throbbing pleasure now rising inside you. His eyes flutter open once he feels your pussy taking him deeper. Keeping his hands on your hips, he smiles to you and says, “Take what you need from me, baby. I’m here for you.” 

There is something in his words that pinches at your chest, but you simply ignore it. The only thing that matters now is that you need him, and you need to relish all the pleasure that he is offering to give you. Once the burst of pleasure that you feel from him being inside you wanes into a series of muted spasms, you start to move. You begin riding his cock, starting slow until you are better adjusted to his size, before finally picking up into a pace that sends you into a delirium, where you are sent into the height of pleasure that you can only ever gain from him. 

“Keep going, baby,” he urges. His head falls back with a groan coming out of his lips when you follow his guide, doing it exactly how he likes it as you rise and fall onto his cock. “Yes, keep doing it like that. Just like that.” 

Seeing his reactions and hearing his words excite you even more. It pushes you into becoming more wanton in your action, encouraging you further to give in to your needs and to please him while you chase your own release. 

The resounding climax comes soon enough. Just when your thighs are beginning to burn and shake in each firm stroke of his cock into your depth. The sound of his deep groan that comes through his lips as the first wave of your orgasm flutters around his cock becomes the final warning as he finds his release. His hold on your hips tightens, and he begins to buck his hips to meet your steady rocking. After a few thrusts, a few more steady strokes of his girth against your walls, he finally gives in to his needs and takes control. With a strained groan, he begins fucking into you with fervour, thrusting upward just as you come back down, each thrust keeps growing faster until you feel him getting more erratic in his movements. You open your eyes to see it happening as his face grows tense, right before you feel the warmth building up inside you as he comes. 

Seeing the sight of him embracing his climax, hearing the sounds that he is making, and feeling him throbbing inside you as he is filling you with his warm release quickly pushes you towards your own. You fall onto his chest when your orgasm hits you like a wave. Starting from your core, it flows intensely within you and spreads down to your limbs that you can no longer hold yourself up. 

And Namjoon gladly captures you in his arms, folding your body against his chest as he slowly turns to his side and gently helps you lie on your back before he pulls out. You immediately feel heavy with sleep the moment your head hits the pillows. Then your body sinks deeper into the sheets as Namjoon carefully pulls the blankets over your bodies. Once he is done tucking you back to sleep, Namjoon slides away from you. Yet he doesn’t leave you for too long, only rising to grab something to clean the mess on your bodies and on the sheets beneath you before he is back, gathering you in his arms again.

As if he wants to make sure that you can feel him even in your sleep.

Your eyes get heavier, until you no longer able to look at his face when he kisses the top of your head. “You did a good job, baby,” you vaguely hear his whisper as you are slowly drifting back to sleep, falling into a much calmer, more peaceful slumber. 

The words that he gives you next help soothe both your body and soul, as he murmurs to you softly with simple words that work almost like a spell and a fragile promise to give, “Remember this moment. Think about this every chance you get. Until there are no more space for those nightmares to come in when you sleep at night. Even when I’m not here with you.” 

On a different night, you wake up to him shifting on the bed, searching for you. 

Namjoon hums softly as his hands find your waist in the dark. His fingers run down your skin as he gently turns you until you are lying on your back. 

“Hmm—” you hum and mumble as you are slowly getting dragged out of your slumber. Your bedroom is dark, with nothing more but the glow of the moonlight permeating into the room through the open curtains. With the help of the muted light, you can see the silhouette of his face—the unmistakable sight of his strong jaw that takes form, the tip of his nose and his full lips, before you manage to find his eyes through your bleary eyes—as he hovers above you. His lips turn to a slow grin once he notices that your eyes are fluttering open.

“Did I wake you?” he whispers, “I wasn’t planning to, I promise.” 

A lazy chuckle escapes you at how innocent he sounds. As if he is caught doing something that he shouldn’t. Something naughty, and he feels guilty for bothering you with it. Though the tone of his voice makes you wonder, “What are you trying to do?”

His grin deepens, and you can almost see the dent on his cheek—the dimple that you would usually touch when you are touching his face—taking form. “I’m suddenly feeling hungry. I was thinking about getting a midnight snack.” 

You blink through the dark and lazily raise your hand to point towards the kitchen. “Hmm—you can find some cookies in the cupboard. Or cereal. I know you love your cereal, so I bought them for you when I went to buy groceries today.” 

The sound of his low chuckle pierces through the dark. “Actually—” Namjoon dramatically sighs, making you even more curious. You force your eyes to open wider and look at him with your brows furrowed. “I was thinking about having a different kind of snack.” 

It takes you a moment too long to understand what he is getting at. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep and have only slightly adjusted to the darkness around you that you can barely see him moving. But you can definitely feel the heat of his kiss as he presses his lips on your bare shoulder, and you can feel the bed dips when he begins crawling down, all while his hands come down to claim a gentle grip on your thighs, parting your legs open for him. 

He draws the sound of your gasp when his warm breath falls on the apex of your thighs. The skin there is still soft and tender after taking his rough pounding after dinner—something that you can be sure he can still feel on his own skin because of the way you pinned him between your thighs while you were embracing your climax—so you jerk a little when you feel his lips brushing against it. Namjoon looks up before he does anything else, catching your gaze to ask, “You don’t mind, do you? I don’t think I can go back to sleep until I’m filled.” 

Your heart flutters once you are starting to see where this is going. Yet the feeling that materialises deep within your core is not as as innocent as the reaction that is coming from your chest, when heat pulses and you get to feel something wet leaking from between your legs. Smiling at him, you prop yourself up on your elbows so you can get a good look of his face. “No, I don’t mind it at all,” you answer, already feeling your walls pulsing from anticipation. 

“Good,” is the only thing that you can hear from him as he dips between your legs. He lowers himself further, almost sinking into the sheets as he starts kissing his way up from the inner sides of your thighs and all the way up to your folds. His hands are steady as they hold your thighs apart to keep you from closing them on his face, and his mouth expertly finds your nether lips even without any help from the lights.

“Oh, God,” you moan softly with your head falling back, your fingers sinking into the sheets. Every nerve within your body sparks alive, awakened from whatever state they were in while you were still deep in sleep as Namjoon begins working his mouth and tongue against your hot core. His jaw feels rough against the soft and tender skin of your thighs, and you are almost sure that you can feel the thin presence of his stubble which he rarely allows to grow thickly on his chin. His warm tongue feels delightful as he laps between your folds, licking away every drop of your arousal as he slides his way up and down your slit. 

Namjoon lets out a soft, agreeing hum once he manages to find your swollen clit, which he quickly captures between his sinful mouth to give a light suck. The sharp gasp that you make from the rush urges him to continue. Alternating between working his mouth around your clit and slipping his tongue down your slit, he sends shock waves of pleasure through your body. It gets you crying out, moaning his name with ragged breaths as you ride the pleasure.  

“Hmm—this is it,” he mumbles with his mouth still pressing at your folds. “I fucking love the way you taste, I can never get enough of it.” 

His words are muffled once his mouth returns to your heat again. As the pleasure rises, your muscles tighten within you, coiling so fast towards your climax. Twisting the sheets under your hand, you reach down with the other and presses the back of his head deeper into you. A handful of his thick hair slips between your fingers and you give a clench, not enough to hurt, but enough to help you feel like you are still in control of yourself despite feeling like you are unraveling. 

Soon, your breath quickens as your climax surges through your body in intense waves. Your toes curl into the sheets beneath you, while your hips jerk violently against his mouth, pressing down to chase it as it comes. His hold on you tightens as you writhe in your pleasure, keeping you down as he continues working his mouth to devour your release. 

And he still doesn’t stop. Still not letting up even as the spasms of your climax slowly wane into a flutter.

You are only partly aware of the way you are moving, riding the waves of your orgasm with your hips rocking into his face. Your hand sinks deeper into his hair, nearly pulling at the strands as you press his head deeper, just as you are beginning to feel the pulses of pleasure rising back up again. You are teetering on the edge, yet your stubbornness takes over, unwilling to let it come to you so quickly when you had just earned your climax.

Something that he quickly notices, and he doesn’t let you get what you want so easily. 

As your pussy walls are contracting with faint signs of another climax getting through you, and the sounds of your moans and your rough gasps blend together, he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. And he doesn’t stop until he finds the sweet spot that sends your pleasure soaring higher. High enough until your entire body quivers with it, your hips almost lifting while being taken over by the delirious bliss. 

Noticing that he has found your weakness, he continues working his fingers, moving it in and out and pressing repeatedly on that very same spot which had drawn a reaction from you, and he keeps doing it in the same rhythm as his tongue. It makes you feel even more elated in your pleasure, until you finally reach your final breaking point and your second orgasm comes rolling through your body. 

Your legs are shaking. Your heart is pounding so loudly that you can barely hear anything else but the sound of your ragged breathing. And you are unaware of his next movements as he slowly pulls away and begins climbing up, finding a new position as he hovers over your body. 

With a sly grin, Namjoon licks his lips and uses the back of his hand to wipe off the rest of your essence that is coating his chin. “Delicious. Exactly what I needed,” he whispers as he moves on top of you. He presses his lips on yours, getting you to taste yourself through his tongue as he deepens it. 

Still lost in the momentary bliss, you struggle to catch your breath. Yet your body seems to be entranced, when it reacts on its own the moment you feel his erection pressing on your legs and you readily open yourself to him, allowing him to return to your center where he settles into position, going back right to where he belongs. 

A sigh comes out through your lips as he moves his lips from your mouth and down to your neck. He nips at your skin, drawing a sharp inhale of breath that comes out louder as he enters you. He starts moving, with deep and slow thrusts as if he wants to take his time with it this time instead of giving in to his wanton needs. 

As the pleasure rises inside you, climbing at a slow and steady rhythm that feels comforting at the same time that he makes you feel euphoric, a new wave of emotions comes through your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips as you unravel this new feeling that comes poking at your chest. And you continue that way, giving in to the delightful pleasure as you rock into him, meeting his slow thrusts with your rocking hips. Doing it over and over until it becomes so intense and the coil within your core snaps.

Tears drop to your cheeks as you succumb to your final orgasm, and you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck before he can see yourself falling apart. In the height of your pleasure, you suddenly feel emotional, like a dam had just been broken inside you. Not only because of the euphoric feeling that is taking over you in your release, but also at the realisation that comes through your mind right after the blissful fog begins to subside and your mind is cleared enough for you to think. 

Fear engulfs you when the reality of your circumstances finally dawns on you, when you realise that there is no possible way that you are going to be able to survive if he should ever decide to leave you again.

The first time I found myself in your arms and felt how easy it was to fall into your embrace, I simply thought I was dreaming. For the first time in my life, I felt how beautiful it was to fall in love, and to be so loved in return, and I never wanted it to end.  And my prayers were heard, because you never left.  Even when I was ready to let you go, you simply held me tightly in your arms and never let go.  How was a girl not to fall in love so deeply when something like that happened? To have the only person that she dreamt about suddenly loving her back, giving her all the attention that she could only dream of? Whenever I would recall that night in my head, I would often wonder—what would have happened to us if that night never happened? Where would we be today?  How would our story have played out, if only you never knew how I truly felt for you?

Eight years ago…

“What am I to do with you?” Namjoon whispered, breaking the silence that had been accompanying the two of you since the moment you sat down with him on the porch. 

The student residential that you rented together with a few of your close friends from college had normally been quiet. But that had not been the case that night, and you had no other choice but to escape them by hiding on the dark, dimly-lit porch.  

Keeping your eyes closed so you could feel him, you let out a soft giggle and asked, “Why? Am I so hard to handle?” 

You could sense him smiling without having to see it when he answered, “Saying that would be an understatement.” He kissed the top of your head, and your heart soared. A content sigh slipped out of you as you wondered if this was just a dream. Because it felt too good to be true that you refused to believe that it was real. That he was giving you all the attention that you had craved and waited for for a long time. 

Never once had you ever thought that you would be here at all. To be sitting by his side with his arm around your shoulders and your head resting against his chest. To be this close to him when you had only been able to watch him from afar before, let alone to be teasing each other like this. 

His low chuckle stirred something deep in your heart. Because you loved how it sounded, and you loved how he made you feel when he did just that. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, before shifting on the seat and turning you in his arm so he could look at your face. “You know that you’ve been driving me crazy, don’t you? I never know what to do with you, especially when you’re like this.” 

“Like what?” you asked him with a smile, though it wavered when you caught the sad look in his eyes. Almost as if he was feeling guilty. 

Namjoon let out a sigh and briefly closed his eyes before saying, “Looking like you’ll cry if I try to pull away.” 

Your heart ached upon hearing this. Because he was right. You did feel like you were about to cry. You often felt that way with him, mostly during moments like this one, when he was just about to leave you for the night. Watching him leave had always been torture, when it almost felt like a wake up call to see him walking away, reminding you of the reality that you kept denying to see to keep the dream life that you were living in with him. That night specifically, you felt like everything around you was slowly crumbling, that he felt so far away even when he was still there, holding you close to him. 

Taking a deep breath, you breathed in his scent and his entire presence, and you were instantly brought back to the night he first took you in his arms. Back to the first time you ever felt his love. 

Merely a couple of months had passed since the night of your confession. 

It was the night that was supposed to have given you closure. A night where you were supposed to close a chapter of your life which you spent keeping your unrequited love a secret from the world. 

Hearing the news of his upcoming graduation had been the catalyst for you to make that decision to finally put your truth out there. You had hoped that admitting all the feelings that you kept denying through the years would give you a sense of relief, a chance to be freed from the treacherous feeling that was deeply rooted inside your heart, and then you would be able to find a way to move on from him once the secret was out.

He was leaving anyway so it wouldn’t matter once he is gone away.

That was the silly logic that you kept in mind when you talked to him about it, when you finally told him everything in the final month he was to remain on campus. 

“I’ve liked you for a long time. I tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder to forget and deny how I felt when you kept being nice to me and you continued answering my calls. I’m not asking for anything, just for you to listen and to know that I’ve fallen for you. As silly as it sounds, but I do love you.”

There was no expectation on your part to what kind of response that you would be getting from him. At the very least, you had put aside all kinds of expectation in the first place, knowing that his heart belonged to someone else and there would never be a place for you in his life. The only thing that you expected was to feel relieved, which you successfully gained the moment the truth was out in the open. It felt freeing once you managed to put your emotions into words. It felt peaceful, that the moment you were done, you were able to look back at him with a smile on your face, and a resolved feeling that you were ready to let him go. 

But Namjoon refused to let you go. His offer to take you home right after that encounter had unexpectedly escalated into something else, which finally became the beginning of your nefarious conduct which lasted for so long. It became the main reason why you were in his arms this very night as you clung to him almost desperately to feel his presence for the last time before you had to see him go.

Namjoon cupped your cheek gently with his palm as he looked deeply into your eyes. While you had no clue of what was going through his mind or what he was seeing in yours at the time, you had the sudden overwhelming feeling of fear. Because you already felt him slipping away from your grip, and even if you could still feel his warmth pressing against you, the distance that would start to grow between you became palpable. 

And you felt helpless when you had no idea how to change that. It was already late at night and you could hear your housemates going about inside the house to end the evening, but you cared nothing of it. You felt as if you were inside this small bubble that felt comforting yet fragile, and you only had seconds before the bubble would crack and everything would be gone.

That he would be gone for good.

He was supposed to be leaving that week—actually leaving—and deep down, you could feel that the moment he left, that would be the end of it. And in his silence, you could almost feel that he was saying goodbye to you for good. 

You had no idea what you were thinking then. Perhaps you weren’t thinking at all, and you had simply acted out of instinct. That would have been the perfect excuse for the indecent response that you gave to his innocent touch. 

As his hand moved gently across your cheek, you turned your face and pressed your lips on his palm, kissing him softly. His breath was caught right then, as he never expected that you would have done something so intimate, yet so risky at the same time. 

His next exhale of breath was trembling as he brushed his thumb across your lips. As if he wanted so badly to kiss you but was afraid that someone might come out of the house and witness it happening. Wanting the same thing, you did something else to make up for not being able to kiss him so openly while showing him what you had desired from him at the time. You kept your eyes on him as you slowly parted your lips, and took the tip of his thumb and started sucking it gently. 

It was a simple act. Something that was so subtle. And yet, you could tell how much it was affecting him. The shudder that ran through his body was delicate and nearly muted, even more than your little act, but you could feel it through your body which was connected to his. Even if you weren’t able to feel it, his reaction was still visible to your eyes. Because you had spent years watching him, taking notes of his emotional clues and the expressions that he would make during various circumstances, and the dark look in his eyes was an unmistakable sign of his desire burning from the simple teasing act that you were doing to him. 

You continued nibbling on his thumb and taking the digit into your lips just a knuckle deeper. Then you started sliding your lips back and forth, stopping briefly to slowly bite the tip and lick around it, until you heard the sound of his soft gasp and his eyes began fluttering to close when it got too much for him to handle. A soft groan came out of him and he tried to pull his hand away. His thumb slipped out of your lips, yet you caught his hand, placing your palm at the back of his wrist as you turned your face to start kissing his fingers. 

His eyes never wavered as he watched you kissing his digits, doing it excruciatingly slow while keeping your eyes on him the whole time, allowing him to see your intention through your gaze. What you wanted from him was clear, yet you wanted him to see it for himself instead of having to say it out loud with your words. Exhaling a long, shaking breath, Namjoon licked his lips and once again brought his thumb to brush your lips, before intentionally pressing its tip between them and sliding it in once again so he could feel your tongue lapping across the skin. 

“I really, really, have no idea what to do with you,” he whispered, and his voice trembled as he did his best to hold back from reacting more, yet you felt no remorse for making him feel this way. Before you could say a thing, he tightened his hold around your shoulders and moved his hand away from your lips to the nape of your neck. He played with the strands of your hair as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. “You’re killing me, baby,” he whispered with a bitter chuckle. It sounded desperate, as if he was struggling so hard to fight against his restraint.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do with you,” you teased him with a whisper. Being this close, the urge to kiss him felt overwhelming, yet you held back and simply bit down your bottom lip before you could allow yourself to break all of your restraint and give in to temptation. 

But then he threw all of your effort out the window when he suddenly offered, “Come with me.” 

You opened your eyes and looked at him questioningly before asking, “Where?” 

A smile appeared on his face, and the sadness and guilt that he showed you earlier faded into relief as he found a resolution that was going to change everything. “Away from here. I just—” he started to say, stopping himself when his own self-doubt came over him. He looked nervous as he made you this offer, as if he was expecting you to refuse when he asked again, “Please. Do you trust me?” You nodded, and he continued, “Will you come home with me?” 

The answer came to you so easily, even without him having to convince you further. Because you were willing to follow him wherever he wanted to go, just as long as you could be together with him. “I’ll go anywhere you want me to,” you said to him, and his relieved smile became more visible. 

No words were ever needed to be spoken as he kissed your temple, finally unable to resist giving you more while still being hidden under the shadows of the night. Then he took your hand in his as he stole you away from your friends and the house that you had been residing in since sophomore year, without ever giving you a chance to change your mind. 

That night was when everything between you officially shifted. When everything that you had expected to be a short term kind of fling turned into something else as you left with him. It was risky, and it was probably the stupidest thing that you could have ever done in your life. But as you followed him that night, you were absolutely ready to take all the risk and to face everything that may come in your way of spending that part of your life with the man you loved. 

Because being with him worth all the pain, the tears, and all the sacrifice. Even if it meant sacrificing your light just to have it all. 

Present day…

“Will this be okay?” 

You raise a hand to cover your eyes from the bright sunlight so you can have a good look at him. Your lips lift to a hint of a smile as you watch Namjoon moving before you. Bent down on his knees, his arms are flexed forward as he is busy spreading a picnic blanket on top of the small patch of ground that he chose not long after arriving in the city park. 

In your eyes, he looks almost as if he is completely out of his element, which is an amusing sight to see. It isn’t so much about him being out here under the sun, nor it has anything to do with your surroundings, but more because he is showing you a different side of him that you have longed to see. Ever since the first time you got to know him, Namjoon has always seemed so calm and collected. Always so put together. Yet as he tries to meticulously sort out the picnic blanket, he looks a bit awkward and clumsy, though he still keeps a wide smile on his face that seems unrestrained and free, a sight that you enjoy seeing from him the most.

There is another thing about him which draws your attention aside from his bright smile that warms your heart. You look down as he stretches out to tame the corners of the blanket that keep rising due to the passing wind, watching the muscles on his back and shoulders straining under his thin t-shirt as he works to solve the problem while treating it as if he is working on a piece of art. 

“Alright, I think that’s about it,” he says with a groan as he carefully pushes himself up, snapping your thoughts just before they can get anywhere near the dark places in your mind. He moves quickly as he rises back to his feet, giving you no chance to say a thing before returning to your side. 

“So…what do you think? I figured this spot would be good enough for us. Don’t you think so?” Namjoon asks you with a soft sigh, sounding quite relieved and proud of himself for his work that it brings a smile to your face when you see it.

You take another look at the spread blanket, noticing how it is positioned on even ground where the grass is soft enough to cushion your weight and just arm’s length away from the nearby line of trees to give it enough shade to protect you both from the sun. There is quite a comfortable distance between this spot to the crowd of picnic-goers that you see filling the park, making it an ideal place for you to enjoy this leisure moment together with enough privacy from prying eyes.

“It’s perfect,” you tell him as you carefully place the heavy picnic basket that you have been carrying on top of the blanket. Straightening up to your full height, you breathe in the fresh air around you and smile as you relish the warm sunlight falling on your skin. “The weather is lovely today.”

With a soft hum, he takes a step closer and places his hands on your shoulders. “That’s why I decided to take you out here today. I want to enjoy being in the sun with you,” he gently says as he kisses the top of your head. “This is much better than being cooped up at home on your free day, don’t you agree?”

Something about his question puts you to a halt. It isn’t so much about what he said or how he said it, but it was something that his question implied which suddenly makes you feel uneasy. He probably didn’t mean anything other than pointing out the fact that you have been spending your day offs resting at home, oftentimes with him, instead of spending the day hanging out in the open like this. 

And he wasn’t truly wrong when he brought it up either. Because that is exactly what you were planning to do to spend your long weekend. But as fate has it, he found out that his schedules are aligned to yours and wasted no time to came by so he could be with you. It was a nice surprise to find that you would be able to keep him to yourself this weekend, but then he gave you yet another joyful surprise when he first suggested to take you out on this cute picnic date. You were obviously overjoyed by the idea that you immediately agreed without thinking too much of it. 

Looking back to it now, you finally realise why it had brought you such joy when he talked about taking you out here today, and why it has felt peculiar to be out in the open like this for a change. It was all due to the fact that you have somewhat grown more used to seeing him in a completely different setting. 

Due to the circumstances of your relationship, you have often spent more time with him in the privacy of your home, completely hidden from the world outside. Even when he takes you out on dates, he would find a way to keep things on the down low. From taking you to those dinner dates in restaurants with private rooms or quaint cafes on the outskirts of the city, to slipping into the movie theatres once the lights have been turned off. 

Before today, you have only treasured those stolen moments with s joyful heart. But now, as you are standing here with him under the sun, a different kind of emotion comes through your chest. It feels dark and heavy, and yet you have no intention to delve deeper into it. Not now, when you are supposed to be enjoying this moment with him.

Sighing, you ignore the feeling of bitterness that is slowly making its way to ruin your mood. “I guess you’re right,” you say to him, “this is a nice change.” 

A nice change that should be making you happy. And yet—

Taking a good look around you, you get a view of the spread of green grass that appears bright under the sunlight. Nearly half of it is now covered by various blankets and folded chairs in different spots where people are lounging under the sun. Most of the picnic-goers have come here in groups. Most of them came here with families and friends, while there are couples who seem to be enjoying their time together. 

Normally, you wouldn’t care much about the people around you, much less to compare yourself with them, as you are afraid that it might shatter the illusion that you have created for yourself. You have no idea what compels you to do it now as you watch closely at the lovers around you while you are leaning back against Namjoon’s broad chest. A sense of longing comes blooming inside you, as you picture yourself being in their shoes. To be the one holding his hand so freely in front of these people, to be showing him love—kissing him, touching him, laughing together under the sun—instead of cowering under the shadows. You wish you could be like them, to have what they have, instead of feeling like you have a target placed on your back for the sinful secret that you are hiding inside. 

That’s because you are not like any other couples that are out here today, who truly deserve what they have now. 

You wince as the bitter voice of your conscience fills your head, and the bitterness that you vaguely felt earlier starts gripping harder at your chest. It comes to remind you about your choices, the reason why you are more deserving to only be able to embrace his love in the safety of your home, or while you are hidden in the private room within the fancy restaurants that he often takes you to or to the outskirts of the city where you would be far away from prying eyes. 

Like a dirty little secret that he has to hide.

“So—” Namjoon whispers as he kisses your shoulder, oblivious to the dew that is forming in the corner of your eyes as reality hits you hard that the fractures in your heart start to resurface. And yet somehow, even in his unawareness, he still manages to help soothe your unsettling feelings away as he gently rubs his palms up and down your upper arms. “Aren’t you going to sit down and join me? You know I worked my hardest to get everything set up perfectly.” 

You briefly close your eyes, silently hoping that it would be enough to clear the tears away so he wouldn’t notice your change of mood before you get to look at him again. “I suppose it would be a shame to waste all of that hard work,” you whisper to him while feigning a teasing tone, yet you avoid looking into his eyes as you take his hand, allowing him to help you step onto the blanket. 

Namjoon joins you once you are settled nicely on the picnic blanket. He easily finds comfort as he lies back with his elbows propped behind him after he is done helping you set out the drinks and snacks that you brought out today. 

“Now this”—he sighs as he stretches his long legs out—”is comfortable. Just how I pictured it when I thought about bringing you out here today.” 

His comment puts a smile on your face. “I hate to admit it, but when you first offered to take me out today, I thought you had gone mad. One minute you talked about how cozy it was to cool off at my apartment while complaining how hot it was outside under the blaring sun, the next minute, you started making lunch and was packing them up in a picnic basket,” you tease him with a chuckle, making him laugh as he still has no idea about the dark storm that is brewing inside your heart. Tilting your head up, you embrace the warmth falling on your face and exhale a deep sigh, hoping that it can help calm your heart. “Thank God I decided to listen. It really is nice being out here.” 

Hoping to ease the troubling feeling inside, you relish the warm sun for a bit longer. Not realising that he is using this moment to slide closer. Until you feel his warmth hovering against your side. You turn to look at him as you open your eyes, finding his warm gaze looking back at you. 

“I’m also glad that you agreed to come out here with me. I think we both needed this,” Namjoon says to you with a gentle smile on his face. For a brief moment, you wonder if he can sense your uneasiness when he appears to be cautious as he shifts a bit closer to you. But you soon figure out that he has something else in mind as he slides one hand around your waist and pulls you his side. “This is one of the things that I missed,” he murmurs as he leans down, once again pressing his lips on the exposed skin on your shoulder. “Do you remember back then, how we would escape from the city together and find places where no one would recognise us?” 

Of course, you still remember. Those had been some of the old memories that you still have of those days and the precious moments that you would always look back to. While most of the details from your old love affair have turned foggy over the years, there are still small moments that you would often revisit when you were thinking about him, even long before your fated reunion which had eventually led to this day. 

The night when you confessed your feelings, for example, has been the one memory that will forever be engrained in your mind and would return to you even when you try your best not to think about it. Then there was the night where your sin nearly got exposed, when he took you home from your secret date during the end of semester break and you arrived to a full house as your housemates had returned early from their vacation. You stayed under the shadows on the porch that night for a long time until both of you decided you weren’t ready to end the tryst, and he sneaked you out of your home to take you to his, where your carnal tryst continued all through summer in the safety of his home. 

But the part of your memories that would often cause your heart to flutter would be the times he took you on those secret escapades that he mentioned. When you were not being hold up in your bedroom nor were you hiding in his house downtown, you used to sneak away to have your secret outings to various places where nobody would be able to find or recognise either of you. You have often thought of those moments as the memories that gave you joy to remember. At the same time, thinking of those moments also reminded you that everything you had with him was real, instead of something that you conjured from your own dark fantasy. 

Oftentimes, you would wonder if both of you remember those events differently. If he had been simply using those outings to steal moments with you while hiding your relationship from the people who knew who you were, while in the meantime, you sought validation through those stolen moments and have been remembering them as passionate getaways to savour where you felt loved, and where you were finally able to garner his full attention the entire time without anything else getting in the way. You might never be able to find answers now after so long. But no matter what kind of intention hidden in those moments, the truth would always remain the same. That you were simply pretending to be actual lovers while you were together in places away from home, always taking all the chances you could get to forget about the reality waiting back home.

Before you can say anything, Namjoon gives you a small smile to say, “I won’t blame you if you had chosen to forget about those times we spent together. I would understand if you wanted to forget. But for me, it was hard to forget about them. The time we had during those outings,” he says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, “were the happiest time I ever had. I would think about the little trips we had when I’m alone, wishing that I was out in the sun, having my own secret adventures to get away from the city with you by my side.”

You want to correct him and let him know that you have never once forgotten about the beautiful time you shared. Yet you bite your tongue, when your curiosity only draws you to ask something else. “Have you not been able to do that with—” 

A knowing look flashes through his gaze. There is no need for him to hear the end of that sentence to know what you are about to ask him. And he isn’t allowing you to question it out loud or to mention about her, when he leans back in to give a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and turns his attention on the neglected food and drinks that have been spread out before you. 

“Why don’t we start on lunch before the food gets wasted for being under the sun too long?” Namjoon offers you as he reaches out to open one of the food containers. Just like how he meticulously prepared this entire picnic set-up, he carefully peels one wrapped sandwich before handing it out to you and carefully prepares the salad that he packed up together with it. He then continues by reaching out to grab one of the tumblers filled with cold drinks and prepares a pair of clear glasses. The ice inside the tumbler makes sharp clinking sounds as he takes it in his hand. 

“I’m sure you’re thirsty too. I made us something that would help us cool down under this heat,” he says as he hands you one of the glasses and starts pouring the drink that turns out to be homemade sangria which he prepared from home, kept chilled with extra ice inside its container. “I have purposely added a hint more of your favourite red wine in this,” Namjoon softly chuckles as he presents you the glass of drink, though not before dipping a straw to go with it. “I hope the drink is refreshing enough for the heat. Maybe it can help you relax a bit more too.” 

You blink your eyes, surprised at how on point his comment was. You never realised that he might actually be able to sense your uneasiness no matter how hard you have been trying to hold it back. You say nothing to that, however, and choose to simply take a hefty drink of your alcoholic punch, hoping that it can help to ease your mind. 

As the alcohol hits you, a comforting warmth rolls through your body, while the ice does enough to cool you down. You take another long sip, relishing how good it makes you feel while ignoring the fact that it wouldn’t take long for you to start getting tipsy with how much wine he added into this drink. 

Maybe it would be better once you do get a bit more tipsy, you simply convince yourself, because then your mind would stop going back to those dark places in your head. With a content sigh, you look up at him and smile. “You did good with your choice of drink. I’m sure this is going to help me a lot to relax. Though I should probably warn you that I can be a bit of a nuisance if I get drunk too early in the day, so you have to be responsible when that happens.” 

“I don’t mind,” Namjoon simply says to you as he leans back closer. Within a blink of an eye, his face has become much closer, and his lips are now hovering against yours. “I’ll take all the responsibility, as long as you’re having a good time with me,” he adds with a gentle voice, before giving you a chaste kiss right on the lips. “Now eat.”

Smiling bashfully, you pull away and start diving into the meal. For a short moment, it feels like you both fall into some sense of normalcy in the guise of your picnic date. With any thoughts about the past pushed aside, and no more conversation shared to remind yourselves about his other life that he leaves behind just to be here with you, you allow yourself to indulge in this peaceful moment where you can once again pretend that you are just as normal as the other pairs of lovers around you. 

You both fall into an ease as you talk about mundane things in life between the meal. Sometimes while teasing each other, other times giving each other light touches and stolen kisses just to celebrate each other’s presence. You watch endearingly as little children run across the opening to play together, some chasing their pets while others are chasing each other, filling the air around you with the sounds of their laughter. You have long stopped comparing yourself to other people around you when you glance towards the pair of lovers sitting nearby, finding shelter under the shades just like you do as they lean against each other while watching the view around them. 

“I must say,” you say to him as you pick up a piece of chips after finishing your sandwiches, “that I didn’t expect that you would do so well with all this food. The mini sandwiches?”—you hum softly—”so good.” 

Namjoon laughs at your comment. “You’re exaggerating,” he says, though it is quite obvious that he enjoys the compliment when he flicks the tip of your nose and kisses it. “But it does more than enough to boost a guy’s ego to be complimented by his girlfriend and I can’t say that I minded it. I feel like I can start bragging about being the best sandwich maker in town.”

His antics draw a giggle out of you. He doesn’t often act this way, which is why it pleases you when he can be so open like this from time to time. “Well, I like boosting your ego,” you tell him as you reach out to grab your drink right after he refills it, “among other things.” 

This got him lifting his eyebrows. He can tell that the alcohol is already affecting you as you are starting your third glass, after only switching to the fresh juice once in the middle of your meal earlier at his advice to avoid getting tipsy too soon. “And may I know what are these other things might be?” he asks as he rests on his side, propping himself on one elbow and facing you. 

You bite your lips before you haughtily answer him, “I think you already know the answer to that.” Your gaze trails down his upper arm, drawn by the way it flexes under his shirt to hold up his weight. Uninhibited thoughts start rushing through your head, drawn by the building lust that suddenly rises to its peak. Add that to your tipsiness, and you suddenly become a bit shameless. Mischievous ideas run through your head as you think of ways to tease him, to misbehave so you can draw a reaction from him for once. 

Pulling the straw between your lips, you take a slow slip of your cold drink while feeling hyper aware of the attention that he is giving you. You can feel his gaze on you without you having to take a look, and you can feel him watching every movement you make. Feigning innocence and acting as if you have no wicked intention in mind, you start playing around with the thin straw, biting and sucking at the tip and sliding your lips lower like you are sucking—something else. His eyes seem to grow a tad bit darker as he is drawn to what you are doing, bringing a smile to your face at how easy it is to affect him so much. 

His lips tug to a subtle smirk when he lifts his eyes at you. “Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing right now,” Namjoon mutters to you with a low voice. 

“What am I doing?” you tease him back, and he easily retaliates by pulling you to him. You laugh as you fall against his chest and feel his lips pressing at your skin, just below your earlobe. Your breath quickens, just as you hear the soft groan that he is making, no doubt still affected by your teasing. “Would people be able to notice if we try to do something—naughty, under these trees?” 

He chuckles softly and turns you to face him. “Like what?” he asks while leaning forward until his face gets so close to yours, “kissing you deeply until you forget how to breathe, or pulling you to my lap so you can ride me when there is a risk that these people can see what you’re doing?” 

You bite your lips, now becoming the one affected by his teases and his words when you imagine doing everything that he suggested while being out in the open. You hate being the one to yield first when you were the first to start this game, so you lean closer and brush your lips against his earlobe as you whisper to him, “I’m thinking about doing something more risky, like taking you inside my mouth like I did with the straw.” 

“Fuck—” he curses under his breath. You can tell that you had managed to send his mind all the way down to the gutter, and his body is reacting down below. He has his eyes closed briefly when you pull back. 

“I remember that we did something similar a while back—” you mutter softly with a smile as you are brought back to the past yet again. Bringing you back to another unforgettable moment that you shared with him then. “Remember when you took me up on that hiking trip right outside of town? I wasn’t that big of a fan when it comes to hiking, but you convinced me to it.” 

Namjoon lifts his eyebrows and starts wiggling them. “I remember doing a lot more than convincing,” he teases you with a deep chuckle. 

“Oh, we also did a lot more while we were up there on that hiking hill,” you tease him back. Your cheeks immediately flush as you recall that weekend. Years have passed, but that day remains in your memory to this day. The long hike that you did with his hand sometimes reaching out to yours just to make sure that you could keep up with him. The scenery that you saw—the tall trees, the spread of fresh green grass and odd-shaped boulders that you found once you were close to the top, the hidden spring and small waterfall that you found between the carved ridges. But the magnificent and unforgettable part of it was slipping into the hidden grotto right below the waterfall after dipping into the spring, where he held you with his strong arms while you rocked above him, filling the rocky walls with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other under the blinding bliss. 

You lick your lips at the memory of your pleasure, and how you dropped down on your knees right before you started to make your way back down the hill and took him in your mouth one last time until he unraveled completely. Tilting his head, Namjoon looks at you closely with an intrigued look filling his eyes. “Do I want to know what’s going on in your dirty mind right now?” he asks you with a mischievous smile on his face. 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease him. “Do you want me to share?” You look back at him, smiling, before taking the straw back between your lips, slipping it deep enough until it almost reaches your throat and start sliding your lips up towards the tip before actually taking a sip.

There is something dark in his gaze when he realises what you are doing. But you only manage to get a quick glimpse of it before he pulls you back to his chest and buries his face at the crook of your neck. “You’re fucking killing me here,” he says with a deep, frustrated groan, before he finally gives in to temptation, as he pulls your drink away and captures your lips, giving you a deep kiss that would have been enough to make any child or bystander blush if only they can see it. 

He makes you completely breathless from the kiss, and your skin flushes with warmth that has nothing to do with the bright sun above your head. Yet the moment he pulls away, you quickly notice the way his dark eyes seem to dim. 

A heavy silence soon grows between you, and you are quick to notice the change in his mood. There is nothing unsettling about it, nothing about it that makes you feel like he is slipping away or that your little world is crumbling to pieces, yet it is still enough to make you start questioning things. As he lies back down on his side like before, he seems to be so deep in his thoughts that you feel curious to know what is going through his mind right now. Something tells you that he isn’t reminiscing the hiking trip that had gotten you feeling warm or many other liaison that you shared with him in the past, so you cannot stop yourself from asking him, “What are you thinking?” 

The corner of his lips tilt to a small grin as he mulls over his answer. “I just—can’t remember when was the last time I felt like this,” he finally says to you with a wistful tone of voice, a dimple appears on his cheek when he looks at you.

“Like what?” you question him, feeling more curious than ever to get inside his head. To know how he actually feels about being with you. “How do you feel?”  

Namjoon releases a deep sigh as he deeply thinks about it. “I feel like I’m free. Free to do whatever I want without feeling heavy around my shoulders. Free to be myself,” he says, sounding content as he says these words, as if he is relieved to be able to get them out of his chest, “not to be shackled by anything worldly that is forcing me to be someone that I am not.” 

Something about his words, his revelation, pierces through your heart. You have always wondered why he would always have such a forlorn and faraway look in his eyes at times, but this is the first time you get to hear what is happening behind the looks that he makes. Namjoon grabs your hand and starts rubbing his thumb in circles across your skin, finding refuge in your presence alone. “I love how I can always be free to joke around like what I’m doing it with you and enjoy the things that may raise some eyebrows for some.”

His words—and the way he says them—draws a smile to your face. Even when your heart feels heavy because of what he seems to be dealing with. He looks straight into your eyes when he sighs deeply and continues to say, “It took me some time to realise that I’ve only ever been able to do these things when I’m with you.” 

You take a deep breath, trying your best not to get emotional. “To do what, exactly? To follow your needs and act on them?” you tease him, hoping that you can lighten things up just as the tension coming from his personal burdens seem to be lingering in the air.

When he doesn’t answer you right away, your heart starts beating rapidly. You feel uneasy. Prior to this, you had often wished that you could find a way to get inside his head. Namjoon may have been sharing a huge piece of himself with you which he claimed to have never shared with anyone else before, but there is always another part of him that you haven’t been able to read. He may have been baring his soul whenever he is with you, but his deep thoughts have always been another mystery that you have never been able to solve. You always had this fear to dig deeper, to open the deepest layer of himself to see what is hiding beneath, afraid what it might do to the illusion that you have created for yourself about the two of you. 

“Remember when I told you long ago, about how a person tends to become a reflection of another just to fit someone else’s image of the perfect lover or partner so they could stay with the people they love?” he asks. There is a woeful look in his eyes when he looks at you that makes your heart heavy.

“I remember,” you answer bitterly. You remember it perfectly well because it was the answer that he gave you when you found the courage to ask about his life that you never got to see. To find out the reason why he managed to stay in the relationship that he had with another for such a long time even when he didn’t seem to be—happy. When you openly questioned if he had truly loved her that much to stay, so much so that he could never choose you over her, the answer that he gave you had only revealed something more. “Do you still feel that way? Even after years had gone by, do you still do such a thing?” 

Again, he doesn’t give you an immediate answer. Instead he turns to look up at the sky, and that glum look in his gaze appears clearer under the bright sunlight. “I suppose I am the one to blame. I wanted to create that image in the first place to win her heart, so I could become someone who was more deserving to be with her instead of the person that I knew myself to be,” he says with a bitter chuckle. The sound does something to your heart that you feel the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him. The irony of his situation makes you ache for him. But there is nothing that you can do or say about it. 

There is a look in his eyes that is enough to stop you from doing anything else but to listen. The look of acceptance. An absolute defeat, which is something that you had never seen from him before. As if he has simply surrendered to his own fate, to the life that he had written for himself. 

“I never realised how exhausting it would be to continue living my life that way. I probably shouldn’t be complaining about it, not after so long and when I was the one to make it happen in the first place, but it feels like I’m losing myself. I have been losing myself. I’ve been feeling like I have become a mirror of my true self that I have to constantly hold up in front of her and everyone else to create the perfect image of myself that she could love, that everyone could accept,” he speaks with a voice that sounds defeated, and it causes the ache that you have been feeling for him to bury itself deeper into your heart. His small smile looks broken when he turns to look at your face again, only to say, “But I had to keep it up, right? Because I can’t bear the responsibility of breaking her out of the illusion of me that I created for her.” 

And just like that, the bitterness hits you right back in the chest. Listening to him talk about her has never been easy. Unlike then, it no longer feels painful to hear him mentioning her so lightly like this. The feeling has grown numb over the years, also added with the fact that you have been trying to avoid thinking or reminding yourself about her presence ever since he is back in your life. But it still doesn’t mean that you are now able to hear him talking about her without feeling like your heart being ripped apart. 

Hiding your clenched hands under the skirt of your sundress, you remain silent to allow him to continue. Then Namjoon surprises you when he suddenly pushes himself up to a sitting position. He gently reaches out, finding a stray strand of hair and slowly tucking it on the back of your earlobe. His gaze feels intense when he is looking at you, then he begins to speak, revealing another hidden part of his that you have always desired to see. 

“With you, everything is different. It always has been, even from back then,” he murmurs, almost to himself as a wistful look comes through his gaze, replacing the dark gloom which you previously saw in his eyes. “With you, I never have to pretend. How could I, when even from the very first day we met, you have always been able to see right through me?” 

“Is that so?” you ask him with a trembling voice. He nods just as you see glimpses of your first encounter that many years ago back on campus, when you made a single comment that must have gotten stuck in his memories as much as it did with yours, 

“As someone who is supposed to be a motivational coach for freshman students like myself, you’re not exactly looking like a bright sunshine either. I bet you didn’t even want to be here, did you?”  

You cannot help but smile as you recall his reaction. The way he gawked at your audacity at first before he bursted into laughter. By the time he was done, any tension and dark mood that followed him evaporated, and you got to see his eyes brightening up with new enthusiasm to deal with his new underclassmen of the year. And it was the same brightness that caused the instant attraction you had for him which later manifested within you for a long time. 

Just as you are brought back to that specific memory of the past, his smile is lifted as if he is recalling the same thing as well. “You were the only one who saw it. Who saw me. As if you knew that I was having a rough time, and the last thing I needed was to be in a student gathering night where I had to deal with freshmen years when all I wanted to do was to have a quiet night by myself so I could think.” He chuckles softly and continues to play with the wild strands of your hair that he manages to catch between his fingers. “But that wasn’t the only time you did it, was it? You’ve always been able to see right through me, to look past my facade that I showed everyone else around me. You make me feel like you can see what’s beneath—my head, my soul—even when I tried my damn hardest to hide it from everyone.” 

Your breath is caught when his gaze finds yours. This would be the first time in your life that you would get to see yourself through his eyes. You have no idea what compels him to talk about all of this with you. Looks like you aren’t the only one who is getting affected by his mix of drinks, after all, when he continues to spill his deepest and darkest secret, revealing to you what he has kept inside his heart this whole time.

“I know I never said anything, but—” Namjoon says, suddenly choking up, “I wonder if this was the reason why I always gravitated towards you even before you began to act so friendly towards me each time we met,” he admits with a bashful smile, drawing your own as your memory takes you back to those days, when your gullible self would always be drawn to him whenever he was around. Even before you realised that you were harbouring a secret crush on him, you would look for any reason to cross paths with him. It felt so long ago that you can barely remember all the details. It is astonishing to find that he has a better memory of your past encounters when you had always thought that you have been the one to cherish them more. 

When you have spent years believing that you were the one who had fallen first and harder, and that you were the one who felt a lot deeper between the two of you. 

“At first, I only started to pay more attention and look you up out of curiosity. I wanted to see if it had only been in my head, but the more I got to know you, I became more curious to know how you managed to do it so easily, to see through everything that everyone failed to see,” he continues while you are left speechless. Believing that you might choke or cry if you say something, you keep your mouth shut and bite your tongue, allowing him to continue opening up, baring his soul the way he never could before. 

“I soon realised that I found comfort by talking to you and spending time with you. It was always so easy for me to reveal myself to you without feeling like I was forced to, and it felt—freeing, to be able to do that for the first time.” He exhales a deep sigh, looking like he had just dumped a whole weight off his shoulders by talking about this when his smile grows. “It was addicting, the feeling that you came to me whenever I met you. All it took was for me to sit down with you for a couple of minutes and I felt like I could breathe again.” 

He releases the strands of hair that he has been playing with and let them fall against your face, then gently cups your cheek. “I never thought that it could lead to anything else. It never crossed my mind to act on that feeling, mostly because I didn’t understand what it was,” Namjoon murmurs softly while he absentmindedly starts moving his thumb on your skin. Then he lifts his gaze and smiles. “Until you suddenly came to me to confess your feelings.” 

A chuckle slips out of his lips as he recalls what had happened that night. “That was quite surprising. I think I already knew that you may have had a crush on me, but I ignored it, probably thinking that if I didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t have any expectations and I would be able to savour spending more time with you. But when I realised that your confession was meant to be your closure, that you were trying to move on, I got—” he swallows hard and furrows his eyebrows, “I panicked. I got scared. Because I knew that I was losing you.” 

When his gaze lifts up, you get to see it—the fear that he felt then, and the tears that are formed in the corner of his eyes at the thought of you leaving him for good. “I couldn’t bear it. That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from kissing your lips instead of letting you go when I should have.”

Just as he says those words, his raw emotions are shown in his eyes. It gets you all choked up to see it, to feel it, to finally realise that he feels this much just for you. Concern plagues you, as you try to imagine what kind of life that he has been living in since the day you were gone.

“Do you—still feel the same? Do you still feel like you’re putting up a facade even right in front of—” 

Her. Even until this moment, you still cannot find it in you to talk about her or to mention her that easily. But if what you have been feeling about her is envy, jealousy, and hurt—for the fact that she is the one blessed enough to live a life where he is in it—what you are feeling now is rage. Infuriated to think that she would allow him to keep living this kind of life just to be with her. 

“I think—I’ve been doing it for so long that I’ve forgotten how to live without doing it,” Namjoon says with a bitter smile on his face. “I must admit that I was beginning to doubt myself and everything that I’ve built in my life. I’d spend my nights wondering if what she has for me is anything close to love, or if she loves me for the idea that she has of myself that I had created for her instead of the real me that has been pushing its way to come to the surface.” 

Then his smile shifts into something that looks more to be relief when he looks back to the night you came across each other once again. “The day we finally met again—” he says, still with a smile on his face, “it happened right when I started questioning myself. I had no idea just how much longer I would be able to keep up with this facade. Because it has been exhausting, and it was starting to kill me inside. The more I felt like I was losing myself, the more it felt like it was sucking my entire soul.”

You blink away the tears that have been forming in your eyes while you were listening to him. A sudden burst of anger fills your chest after hearing what he has to put up with, when you have been spending your life thinking that he was living the life that he had chosen for himself and finding happiness in it. “Then why do you keep this up? Doesn’t it make you feel lonely?” 

Namjoon gives you a wry smile. “Just like I told you,” he says with a slow sigh, “you have no idea.” 

His answer only makes you frown. During all the times he has been saying those same words to you, you have only been brushing it off, telling yourself that he has only been saying those things to please you. But the look you see in his eyes as he repeats the same thing to you now tells you a different story. 

In his eyes, you see a glimpse of his broken soul. His loneliness that he may have had buried for a long time now emerging through his gaze like a deep void, pulling you towards it. Right at that moment, every last bit of doubt that you ever had about this relationship immediately shifts. Just when you had thought that all the existing bond you shared may have only come from lust, and from the desire that always burns so rapidly the moment you are in the same room, you realise now that there is something more there. 

Just like how you have always found solace in his presence, to feel like your heart and soul are awakened the moment he touches you, it turns out that he might be feeling the same thing. That your presence feeds his soul in a way that no other ever could. Perhaps that is the reason why you always gravitate towards each other, even after the universe tried to split you apart. All because you need each other. 

Because your souls crave each other’s presence to survive.

“The night we crossed paths at the mall, I felt—relieved, more than I was astounded to see you again. It felt like my questions and prayers were answered. All at once, everything came back to me the moment we spoke and then sat down together, and it made it hard for me to walk away. The feeling of freedom that I could only feel when I was with you felt like a drug, and it made me feel like I was coming back alive again,” he continues, still with his deep eyes looking into yours, letting you see the truth in them. 

“You’ve asked me why I kept coming back,” he adds with a smile while you still unable to find your own voice to speak, “I guess this is your answer. This is the reason why I keep coming back to you, and also the reason why I know that I won’t be able to let you go. Not again.” 

Just then, the tears that have been forming on the corners of your eyes begin their descent before you can do anything to stop it. A sense of closure fills your heart. All the bitterness and the dark thoughts are lifted when you return his smile as you brush away your tears. 

He pulls you to his chest and holds you there. Finding comfort in his embrace, you don’t make a move aside from wrapping your arms around him. His heart beats steadily against your cheek and you close your eyes to find calmness in it. 

Yet, even in the solitude of your shared silence and relief, your mind still refuses to remain quiet, and another question feeds your curiosity.

"Do you think we deserve to be happy?" you ask him as you gently pull away, while Namjoon falls silent. 

"That's a tough question to answer. But if I have to be honest?" he starts to answer after mulling it over for a moment. "For me? I don't think I'll ever deserve it. Happiness is not for someone like me. A sinner, whose heart has been tainted." A bitter chuckle slips out of his lips as he looks up at the sky. There is a wry smile on his face when he turns to look at you again, fading as quickly as it appears. "But the same can't be said for you. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who can make sure that you are given a life where you are constantly smiling and laughing, enjoying your life the best you possibly can instead of having dark shadows haunting your gaze every time."

You swallow the heavy need to cry when you question him, ”Is that how you see me?"

He answers you with a soft hum. “When I look at you, I see someone who is resilient, strong, hard-headed yet always knows what she wants and how to get it. You have a heart that's so big, filled with so much love to give, and you carry that heart openly in your sleeves,” he says as he slides the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe off your drying tears. "Deep down, your soul is still pure. Yet the shadows in your eyes show a different kind of story." 

Pursing his lips, he begins shaking his head slowly as if he is feeling regretful. “That's why I always believe that I don't deserve you. I don't think I ever will. Not when I'm the one who put that shadow in your eyes because I can't give you what you needed." 

"What if that shadow only appears because my soul is just as tainted as yours?” your question comes as a whisper. “Because I'm in love with a sinner, and it's making me a sinner too."

"Do you really think so?" he asks, and his lips lift to a smile. “Maybe you’re right. But that only means that we’re one and the same, don’t you think?”

You smile back at him. “Then maybe that's a sign that we really do deserve each other."

Namjoon softly chuckles. “Maybe,” he hums as he pulls you back to his chest and presses his lips on the top of your head. You feel him closing his eyes as he sighs, and his voice is gentle when he whispers to you, "Yes, perhaps you're right. We do belong together.“

If I must compare your life into day and night, then she would be the one to fill your bright days, always shining under the sun, while I would be the one to reside in your long nights.  Before I received the letter you wrote me, before I finally got those three little words that meant more than my entire world coming from you, I spent my time living with you while wallowing in self-doubt.  The world that you had inside your mind will forever be a mystery that I can never solve.  Yet you have always been honest with me. Always so open even when you had to tell me about all the painful truth. Letting me know that you no longer have anything left that you could offer or promise me except for the small piece of soul that you have been brave enough to show me. I have learned, after many years, not to be greedy when it comes to you. To take all that I could get and have only what I deserved to gain, just as long as I could be with you.  Even if I must remain in the dark. Even if I must remain living as a part of your night.  But as time passes, it becomes harder not to listen to what my heart desires. To not want more.  Because I will always want more. Even if I will never be able to put those silly wishes into words.

Once you are no longer counting the days, life simply continues and time seems to easily blur together. Before you realise it, nearly a year has gone by, and he still remains by your side. Yet time doesn’t seem to matter anymore as both of you continue to live your lives together in your small little world, built and secured safely within the walls of your small home. 

With him being a part of it, this place has become your safe haven. 

A place where you are separated from the outside world, protected from the reality that you have chosen not to take notice when you are together with him. The place that had once felt desolated and cold has now become a place of solitude, a place where you can live comfortably in the safety of his arms without having to worry about the future that lies ahead of you. 

It helps you forget the fact that he has another life to come back to—something that you choose to not think about on the nights that he wasn’t spending with you—and helps you put everything about the past far, far away from your thoughts so you can relish the joy of the present. 

Until tonight, when Namjoon suddenly brings it up again.

You are lying in your bed, with one of his arms laid under your neck and your head resting on his shoulder. This is something that the two of you would do whenever sleep eludes you at night, and you would fall into a comfortable silence while enjoying each other’s presence.

He has his eyes looking far over your head. In his silence, his gaze seems to settle on something that he sees in the distance as it lingers out the window. Looking over your shoulder, all you can see out there is nothing but the dark, night sky. But it seems that glimpses of the past are visiting him through the partly opened curtains when he suddenly mutters,

“You never asked me to leave her.” 

You turn to look at him. “What?”

For a moment, he says nothing else, though he still has a faraway look in his eyes as if he is still looking far back into the past. “Never once did you try to break us apart. And we weren’t married then, so it would’ve been easy for you to simply ask me to walk away.” Namjoon stops talking to close his eyes, briefly, then he looks down at your face when he opens those beautiful eyes again. He wears a smile on his face, one that is filled with curiosity and something else that is kin to guilt, when he asks you, “Why was that? Why didn’t you ever ask me for it?” 

Gnawing at your lips, you take a moment to consider your answer. You have no idea what to say or how to respond to his question, even if you do get what he is trying to say. You just never expected that he would question you about it after so long has passed since then. 

Closing your eyes, you start thinking about the past. Because you have wondered about it. The words had always been there, threatening to slip out of you each time you looked into his eyes and your chest was filled with dread for knowing that he wasn’t truly yours. But you always chose to bite your tongue, refusing to place this one simple truth out into the universe despite feeling the deep ache in your heart which was filled with longing and the desire to be with him. It wasn’t easy to continue lying to yourself, to hold back the way you did. And yet you still chose to do it, only because you had always known that asking that much of him would be too much, no matter how desperately your heart desired it to happen. 

For him to be asking about this now only forces you to recount everything—about your true desire that you had to bury deep inside, your undying wish, and the constant battle you had with yourself for denying your feelings.

Avoiding his gaze, you cannot help but wonder, “Did you want me to beg you to leave her?” 

His eyes are downcast when you look at him again. A deep, resounding sigh comes from him as he slowly answers, “I’m not sure about wanting it. But I can say that I expected that it would happen at some point. That you would ask me to make a choice, and for me to choose you over her. I guess”—he chuckles softly—”it was quite surprising that it was never brought up. I spent so many times envisioning every possible scenario of when we would be having that talk. In a way, I think I was preparing myself to deal with it should you ever bring it up and start demanding it, but it never happened.” 

His confession catches you off guard, and you have no idea what to think of this. Suddenly filled with a mix of emotions, you say nothing to him until he looks at you and asks you again, “Have you ever thought about it? About us being together?” 

You take a moment to mull over your answer before saying anything. The memory of having to refrain yourself from expressing what you desired the most seems to have been ingrained in you. You still remember everything—what it was like to be in that position, unable to be honest with your own heart, and it causes an immediate reaction coming from you as you once again find yourself holding back from admitting your feelings. 

But once you look into his eyes, you realise that things between you feel much different now compared to how it was back then. And after years have passed, you have grown to become a completely different person. Unlike then, you feel entitled enough to feel greedy. Deep down, you feel that you are allowed to be, and you have your own reasons to feel this way. 

Only because you refuse to believe that the universe has no reason for allowing you to meet each other again after so long. And you refuse to accept that you have crossed paths merely by chance after many years have passed only for you to part ways again the way you did years ago.

Sighing deeply, you find the courage to speak, seizing the chance to be honest with yourself, and to him. “Every single time,” you answer softly. And just like that, you feel as if the weight that you have been carrying is lifted, and you feel even lighter as you continue to open up your heart. “Even when I never said a thing, I wished for it. I prayed for it every single night when I had to say goodbye and watch you go back to her. I spent all the nights I had to sleep alone in my bed begging to the universe that you would be mine forever.” 

The more he listens to your confession, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows grows. “Why have you never said anything?” he asks you, sounding baffled as he listens to all of this for the first time, while you cannot help but respond with a bitter chuckle. 

“It’s not like I never wanted to ask or even beg for you to make it happen,” you admit to him with a shrug, then you tilt your head up, looking at him straight in the eyes to question him, “but what right did I have to ask that much from you?” 

When you already had your whole life planned which didn’t involve me becoming a part of it—are the words left unspoken, when it suddenly becomes too painful to recount the events from the past, just before the voice of your conscience speaks to you once more to say,

What right do I have to ask for it now?

You instantly bite your lips, hating how the voice of reason always returns to put you back in your place. Just like how it often did the same to you back then. In the past, you had always chosen to listen to that voice, to help you become the reasonable one between the two of you by refusing to be greedy and only taking what you could get from him. Now, you quickly brush it off, pushing it away so you can ignore it, and choosing to listen to your heart instead. Because not everyone gets a second chance the way you do now.

“You said so yourself, remember? You talked about how our stories had been written differently, that you have had your story plotted, written, with a proper ending to your story planned.” You smile bitterly when the ache in your chest returns, bringing back all the emotions that you had constantly felt whenever his words would come to haunt you. As if reminding you that you had no place in his life after everything was done. 

“I was young and dumb, and I didn’t exactly understand what you were saying then, but I knew that it wasn’t our happy ending that had been written for you. I think—” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to look into the state of mind that you had back then, understanding yourself better now to finally comprehend the past choices you made and admitting it loudly, “I think, once I got that thought embedded into my mind, I just pushed away everything that I desired the most from you and simply took what I could get, while all I could do was to wait and prepare myself for when our time together would finally be up.” 

Namjoon falls silent yet again as he takes in your words. It makes you feel a bit silly now that you put your past thoughts into words. But just like you said, you were too young and dumb to know what would have been the right thing for you to do and how to express your feelings, something that you had never been capable of doing.

But not being able to formulate your feelings into words had not only been your true reason to keep quiet about what you wanted. 

Asking him to make such a big decision would require you to have hopes. The kind of hope that you could never allow yourself to have. Not in the position you were in back then. Even if you ever had the courage to be honest about what you wanted, even if you tried to do it without allowing your hope to bloom, you still knew that it would eventually come either way. 

You know then how it would have tainted everything once you started demanding more, that it would have ruined any blissful moments that you were having with him. And it would certainly have only left you with more bitter memories than the good ones that you still keep with you to this day.  

“How about now?” he gently asks you after a moment has passed. “What do you wish for now? What do you pray at night?” 

With just one look into his eyes and by listening to the tender voice that he gives you, any resolution that you have had about not wanting to act as recklessly as you did then or to give in to your heart’s desire dwindles. All of your defences that you have put up to keep you from getting hurt again this time start to wane. 

This is your chance…

You can almost hear your own heart speaking to you, encouraging you to be honest—not only to yourself, but also for him to be able to see your true desire. The deep, warm look that you find in his gaze feels just as encouraging, allowing you to put your feelings into words. 

“I pray—” you begin to speak without looking away from him, “that if this is just a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up. I just want to stay here with you, just like this, where nothing else in the world matters but us.” 

You stop for a brief moment, biting your lips once you realise that you have finally told him everything that you have been keeping inside. 

There is no turning back now that the truth is out. There are only two kinds of reactions that you can get from him after hearing your confession. Either he stays, or he decides that you both want different things and he will no longer want to have anything to do with you. 

This thought had been the reason why you were wary about being honest with him. Just like him, you had thought of any possible scenario that might have happened once you shared with him what you truly want from him, to actually ask him to choose you instead of the life that had been planned for him. And each time, you had pictured him choosing the last option, and you had always seen yourself accepting it, knowing that it would be the only thing that you would ever deserve to get from him.

Because you don’t deserve to have him sacrificing his entire life for you. 

Tonight, however, you find some resolve growing within you when you look into his eyes. This time, you feel like you are allowed to hope. You are allowed to demand more from him, and you are allowed to fight your hardest until you can finally get what you have always desired. 

“I want to be with you. I want to be the only one that you hold at night, the one lying down beside you like this to listen to your voice as you talk about your day. I want to watch you walk out the door in the morning without feeling worried or scared that it will be the last time I’ll ever see you again, and I want to be able to go about with my day feeling optimistic as I plan how I’m going to be spending my night with you instead of wondering whether or not you’ll be coming to visit.” 

Once the words continue to slip through your lips, it feels as if there is a dam within you that is breaking down. You didn’t expect to become so emotional about this, but it feels freeing to be saying all of this out loud, that your tears come flowing down your cheeks once relief takes over you. 

“I want us to be like any other couple, to go on dates, picnics, to have afternoon walks in the park, maybe go on a trip far, far away for a lengthy of time,” you continue with bitter laughter slipping out of your lips as you recall your picnic date. The picnic date which revealed a whole lot more that you could ever handle. 

A wave of melancholy floods through you when you remember everything that went through your mind that day. Having him opening up to you, allowing you to hear his deep and dark thoughts about his relationship with his wife had given you a sense of reassurance. Yet it lasted only for a short period of time. As that day had brought to light a myriad of other things that you still have to deal with to this day.

The insecurity that you felt from being with him in the open was a feeling that has not been so easy for you to shake off. You remember feeling inferior while being surrounded by all those people. Those who were lucky enough to be with their loved ones without having any worries. The feeling of jealousy and the desire to have what they had has helped open your eyes to see everything that was wrong about your relationship. 

It has made you realise now more than ever just how sheltered he has made you feel by being with him. It has brought back all the past memories that you have overlooked each time you reminisced the past, to remind you everything that you had to endure just to be with him. Like how you had to watch him attending campus events with her by his side, while all you could do was to watch them from afar and wait until the moment he could return to you once the day was over. Sneaking around your friends just to be able to steal a few hours within the day to see him. The lunch dates that had to be cut short each time any of his friends or yours would suddenly appear to catch the sight of you while you were together. 

Every night, you would always be haunted by how he made you feel. The sorrow you feel for being hidden like a dirty little secret. Always waiting on the sidelines until it was your turn to come out into the light.  

“I want to be able to hold you forever, not only until we reach an expiration date for whatever it is that we have now, but until the day I breathe my last breath. I want to be able to scream to the whole world how much”—your voice gets caught in hour throat before you try to say it out loud—“how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. I want to show everyone that you are mine. And I want us to be able to be together under the sun, holding each other’s hands in front of everyone who gets to hear about our story, instead of hiding in the shadows the way we have been.” 

Namjoon moves his hand just as you speak, gently pressing his palm on your cheek as he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “Is that what you truly want?” he whispers. His voice comes out so soft that you nearly miss the way it trembles. But it is the look you see in his eyes that gets you. The look that feels so intense that you can feel it in your chest. 

“Yes, that’s what I want.” 

Without another word, he pulls you against his chest and leans down to kiss you. He wastes no time dipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss while taking the rest of your words and your breath away. Still high with emotions, you feel like you are melting under his touch, allowing him to take over your body and soul completely as he turns you over until you are lying beneath him. 

You have no idea what is going through his head right now. But with the way he is kissing you, touching you, and easily covering your body with his as if your bodies have been moulded to be the perfect fit, none of it seems to matter anymore. Placing your truth out there has felt so heavy but relieving at the same time, and all you need now is to feel him. To have him mend your heart after opening it wide for him to see what is hidden deep inside. 

As he makes sweet love to you, tenderly and slowly, you finally get to understand the real reason why you had never been able to completely move on from him. For so long, you had simply thought that it was all because you had not been truly healed from your broken heart. That your heart had been so fractured that you were unable to love anyone else the same way you have always felt so deeply for him. 

But he makes you see the truth when he easily brings to you to the brink of your pleasure through each slow thrust, each deep kiss, and with every gentle touch he gives you, making you feel all the things that no other person had ever been able to make you feel. It is all because of his sweet lovemaking, when he makes you feel alive and complete. 

And because when his eyes find you, he isn’t simply looking at you. He sees you. Sometimes unabashedly undresses you with it, other times it feels like he is making you a promise without saying a single word. A single gaze with different meanings that you can hold on to.

And that gaze is what you find in his eyes when you open your eyes in your blissful moment of climax and contentment. Through his eyes, you find his silent promise, to see the words that he is unable to voice out loud. Looking deep into his eyes, you also get to feel his love. You can feel it caressing your entire body and soul as he embraces his pleasure, as he bares his soul for you to share with you everything that he has been hiding within his own heart.

I never asked much from you, except for your heart and to ask you to love me back. To appreciate my existence instead of denying my being. To help make me feel less invisible even when you were not here with me.  Even then, there were still some words that I kept wishing to hear from you. Words that seemed impossible to be spoken, because no matter how many promises you had given and kept for me, I had always known that there was one promise that you had given and one that you would never be able to break.  The promise that you gave her. 

“I’m leaving her.” 

Back then, many years ago, you dreamt of moments like this, to hear him say those words to you. Whenever you would look back in the past, you would often wonder what would have happened if you ever had any courage to ask him to say something like this. 

It feels too overwhelming to accept that you are not just imagining things. That he had truly just said those words to you, completely unprompted, after weeks have passed since the night you spilled your secret wish and talked about what you truly wanted from him. 

What your heart still desires from then and to this day.

Shaking your head, you try to deny that this is happening. You have to. Because you can already feel your silly little hope blooming in your chest, thinking that he truly meant what he just said. “You can’t mean that,” you say to him with a wry smile, still refusing to believe him. Yet when his determined gaze doesn’t seem to waver, it tugs you out of your denial.  

“But I do. I mean every word I said,” Namjoon says to you almost pleadingly, and you can feel your resolve cracking under the firm tone of his voice. You try to avoid his gaze so you can remain in denial, yet he refuses to let you ignore him as he walks over to you in his fast and long strides until he is standing right in front of you. Taking your hands in his, he forces you to look at him in the eyes when he says, “I want to.”

The breath that you take trembles, and it gets caught in your chest for the fear that you might break. Seeing this, Namjoon tightens his grip on your hands to get you to focus on his words before you start panicking. “Remember when we talked about what you truly wanted? When you finally shared with me everything that you’ve never been able to ask from me? Well, this is me finally being honest with what I want. This is what I’ve always wanted but never could admit,” he says, almost rushing in his words as if he has been keeping it inside for too long. 

“Do you mean it? Do you really mean this?” you start questioning him once you are able to find your voice again. “You told me—” you choke out a sob, “you said that you couldn’t promise me anything when you already made one promise to another.” Just when you say those words, his words from many years ago return to your thoughts, echoing inside your head the way it always does whenever you reminisce that time in the past where he unintentionally put your wishes to rest, 

“Maybe if things had been different. If she had been the one to say it first that it was over between us and I could erase everything that I had given her—every promise, the silly vow we made with each other, everything we planned—then I would have been able to give you more…” 

Namjoon visibly winces as he is reminded of those same words that he gave you then. When he closes his eyes, you can tell that he finally understands the real reason why you could never find any courage to tell him how much you wanted to be with him, or to even demand that he would give up everything that he had built for you. His face crumbles with remorse when he opens his eyes again and sees the look on your face. Reality seems to dawn on him after hearing your words, and he pulls you into his arms just before a tear drops from your eyes. 

Closing his eyes, he takes a long, deep breath and then exhales it slowly. “I admit that I was…nothing more but a coward and a complete fool back then. I had so many opportunities to make it right by you, to make a choice, but I was too afraid to walk away and face the consequences if I ever decided to take back my words. I thought we still had time. I thought I still had more time, but then—” 

You left. 

You close your eyes and bury your face in his chest, hoping that you can bury all the memories from the day when you decided that you had enough. It wasn’t because of your pride that you chose to walk away from his life, nor it was for your own dignity. You walked because of your own selfish reasons, only because you could no longer take the pain of being kept in the shadows and having to watch him live another life, loving another woman, and building an entirely different life when you were building your entire world around him. 

“After you were gone, I kept regretting my choices. I regretted the fact that I couldn’t be honest with myself and allowed myself to be complacent on what we had until everything fell apart, and I lost you for good,” he confesses to you with his voice coming out almost to a whisper. “I spent my entire life regretting the fact that I had to lose you because of my indecisiveness,” he continues, while tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you take in this revelation. 

Namjoon pulls away with a shuddering exhale of breath to look at you. “But it’s different now. It has to be. I knew it ever since we crossed paths again, because it happened just when I finally gave up on hope. That’s why I know that I can do it this time. That’s why I have to do this. I can’t lose you again.”  

He brings his hands up and cups them on your face, allowing you to see the deep love in his eyes, the sincerity and truth that you desperately seek just so you can trust his words.

So you can allow yourself to have hope. 

Your shoulders fall in relief when you can see them, his emotions that are plainly written in his deep gaze, and you take it all in as he leans down, capturing your lips in his. Your eyes flutter to close as you embrace this warm feeling that he is bringing into your heart. 

“I also have my own regrets,” you say to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I regretted that I chose not to say anything even when the truth was that I never wanted to let you go. Never again. It hurt too much when I did then. It’ll hurt more if I have to go through it again.”

As you look into his eyes, and just after you admit this feeling for him, more questions begin to arise. They come flooding your thoughts just as rapidly as the rise of hope you feel blooming in your chest.

Is this how your story with him going to end this time? With a happy ending, where you are going to be walking on the same path with him again?

Before you can find the answer, Namjoon lifts you up and carries you back to your bedroom. Like always, the moment you are in his arms again, all rational thoughts are gone out the window, leaving only wanton needs filling your mind. He lays you down on your bed and lowers himself above you, pressing you down with the length of his body. Your body welcomes him as he settles between your legs, making you acutely aware of the hard lines of his cock pressing down on you. 

It might have been the fact that your emotions are running wild within you that your body feels so sensitive and it reacts instantly to his touch. It makes you hyperaware of everything that is happening around you and all that you are feeling from him. The heat of his body, his rapid heartbeat, and the rush that comes building within you from his gentle touch. 

As Namjoon presses his weight down on you, your hips rise to meet him. The moment your mouths meet each other in a deep kiss, your body begins to move, rocking and grinding against his covered hard-on that suddenly feels to be carrying more weight. 

“I…need you,” you find yourself pleading as you rock your hips against him, rubbing your covered heat against his length. Your carnal need to feel his touch overpowers you so intensely that you fail to tell him that you are feeling this need because you want this to be real. You want him to show you what words would never be able to convey. 

But there is no need for you to say it out loud, when he gets it. When the look he is giving you tells you that this is exactly what he needs as well. A groan slips out of his mouth just before he pushes himself up and gets to work. In your desperate need to touch each other, both of you move in haste, almost ripping your clothes apart in the rush to get yourselves bare. 

Namjoon wastes no time once every piece of clothing is gone, pressing down on you and devouring your lips until you are left breathless, and your mind is silent. Even without a word, he is telling you everything that he is unable to give you through the kiss. Giving you everything that he wants to say to you by showing it through his actions. 

His kiss doesn’t relent as he grabs your hips, holding you in place while he settles right between your parted legs. Every move he makes is so gentle. He moves with so much grace and tenderness that you feel at ease, even when your heartbeat is racing so rapidly and your body is tense as you anticipate his pure loving. 

Lifting your legs up to spread them wider, he pulls away from the kiss and slowly begins crawling his way down your body. You barely have your eyes fluttering close when you feel his hot mouth capturing your nipple, his wet tongue circling around it once, twice, before he moves to the other and gives it the same treatment. With his tenderness, he draws a series of soft moans from your lips, and then he continues his journey down the rest of your body.

“I feel like I want to take my time with you. Like there is really no need for us to rush,” Namjoon says with a deep, gentle voice, making his intention clear without having to say the words out loud, though you can still clearly hear the need in his calming words. 

Your eyes are fluttering close yet again as he grows closer and closer to the source of your heat. Your hips are lifted when you feel his lips brushing against your mound, then you react with a moan as you feel his tongue pressing down between your hot folds.

Using his hands on your hips, he carefully tilts your body up, just slightly off the bed so he can dive straight in and bury his head between your legs. Grasping the sheets with both of your hands, you lift your hips and start moving, rocking gently into his mouth to chase away the pulses within. It seems to urge him on, when he lets go of all the tenderness as he licks at your folds, before finding your clit and clamping his mouth hard around it.

“Namjoon—!” A sharp cry comes out of you as he moves his tongue in circles, tasting around your tender bud and lapping at your arousal.

You run your hands through his hair, almost pressing him deeper into you as he works his mouth and tongue to draw out your essence. But there is a change here in the way he is devouring you. His hunger feels subtle, replaced by something else that feels more sensual and luscious as he takes what he wants gently instead of sucking you hard and fast the way he usually would. 

Namjoon remains there for a while longer, savouring your taste and getting lost in giving you pleasure. He keeps going, following the sounds that you are making and your reactions to guide his next movements. A flutter arises from within your tight walls, drawing a low moan from him when he can feel it too. His hand tightens on you as your legs quiver against his head, holding you down as you start thrusting against his mouth to chase your release. Keeping you down with one hand, he quickly moves his other hand up. As his mouth moves to capture your clit, his fingers replace his sinful lips, parting your folds and slipping inside, spreading you open before stroking them into your pulsing walls. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry out as your body rises at the snap of your tight coil, and a rush of pleasure takes flight within you, sending you to your blissful release. 

Keeping one hand touching gently at your pussy, Namjoon pulls his mouth away and starts climbing his way back up. Hot, wet kisses trail up your stomach, then your breasts, stopping briefly to tease around your nipples while his hands trail up the sides of your body to your breasts, before he comes up to kiss you hard on your lips. 

“I need to be inside you,” he murmurs against your lips, drawing a soft whimper from you when you want the exact same thing. 

He shifts on the bed, and you can already feel the heat and weight of his cock as it falls against your center. Your legs are spread around him, almost like your body has been programmed to welcome him inside you. Lowering himself on you, Namjoon presses into you gently, drawing out this moment for as long as he likes it despite the burning need that is practically vibrating throughout his entire body. But things quickly switch up when he slowly slides inside you, taking his time burying his length inside your warmth.

You moan at the pleasure he brings you and slowly buck your hips against his body as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly just when he continues moving. With his hands on your hips, he thrusts into you again, drawing the sound of your cry of pleasure. And he keeps at it, moving in and out of you with steady and firm thrusts, filling you up completely. Deep groans keep coming out of his lips at the way your pussy is wrapped around him in a claiming grip. 

As the pleasure heightens, both of your bodies tremble together. His jaw seems tight, a clear evidence that he is trying his damn hardest to hold back and make it last. But just like how you are quickly overcome with the increasing pleasure, you can tell that he is slowly getting taken over by his own pleasure. Digging your nails into his skin, you rock your hips to meet each of his thrusts, moaning and arching your back as you give in to the surging rush you feel from his intense fucking.

“Keep going, baby. I need…more,” you start begging him when you are reaching so close, the coil in your stomach tightening when you are teetering on the edge, already at the brink of your release.

At your words, he responds to you with a firm thrust. One that comes so powerful that it sends your body rising from the bed and shaking at the wave of bliss that comes with it. You take a sharp inhale of breath and hold onto him tighter, anticipating the climax that you are so ready to embrace, only to have him come to a halt. 

“Keep holding onto me, baby,” he says with a deep groan as you open your eyes to look at him. 

Before you can say a thing, he slides his arm around your waist and starts pulling you up with him as he sits back on his haunches. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to his chest and helps you straddle his lap while keeping his cock buried deep inside you. Once you are settled on his lap, his cock seems to penetrate into you deeper, pushing into your depth and making you feel completely full. 

“Fuck—so deep!” 

A low chuckle comes out of him. As if he enjoys hearing this coming from you and taking it as a compliment. With his arms tightening around you, Namjoon begins to move again, rocking gently beneath you as he thrusts his cock deep inside your pussy, starting slow at first and steadily picking up its pace once your body is adjusted to him in this new position. 

The pressure keeps building, and in its rise, your body reacts to every movement, every action, meeting each of his thrusts with your own rocking as you slide up and down his cock to ride the pleasure. 

“That’s it. Ride me, baby,” he says, coaxing you to keep moving. Using your arms on his shoulders as leverage, you rock faster against him, riding the high that comes as he fucks you from beneath and whimpering to each delightful rush that you feel as your walls brush along the length of him. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. You feel so perfect for me.” 

His voice sounds strained with his undying desire, and once you feel his entire body shudder beneath you, you know that things are about to go intense. “I can’t hold back this time, baby,” he groans, drawing a gasp out of you as he pounds into you with a powerful thrust. 

“Then don’t. Fuck me, baby. I need it, I need to feel you, please.” 

He holds you tighter as he kicks things up to a notch and starts fucking you with all of his worth, as he pours all of his emotions into everything that he is giving you. As you clutch around him tightly, his thrusts keep getting faster and desperate, growing more erratic with his deep passion that seems to overflow. 

Sliding his hand up your back, Namjoon takes a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. His mouth finds your skin and he begins trailing hot kisses from your collarbone to your neck, finding his way up to kiss your lips. With his kiss, he swallows the sound of your moans as he steadily rocks in and out of you, distracting you from the touch of his hands as he rubs them all over your body. His mouth moves towards your lobe and comes lower, pressing against your sensitive spot which draws a shiver through your body. 

“Tell me that you’re mine. That you’ve always been mine,” Namjoon pleads with you with ragged breaths, tugging firmly at your heartstrings when you can feel the desperation in his words.

“I’m yours”—you gasp as he thrusts back inside you so deep you can feel it all over your body—“I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.” 

Once again, his entire body shudders against you. Though you can easily tell that he is responding to you with a whole different reason this time. As if your words are the ones that are snapping him out of his final restraint. You use the chance to rock back against him, pressing down as he pushes up, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your depth until you are shaking on top of him. 

As your bodies move together in a steady rhythm, he lowers his hands down your waist and guides you to move. “Keep riding me that way, baby. That’s it, cum around my cock,” he grunts, moaning in between his words with the pleasure you are bringing into his body. “Let me see you cum.” 

His words and his touch guide you as you move above him, chasing your high. You cry out as he slams hard into you. Your head falls back, loving how perfectly his cock is stretching your walls. The pressure keeps growing more intense. You can feel your orgasm building inside you as he continues thrusting into you hard and fast. The moment the first wave of your climax hits, your body arches into him, inadvertently rubbing your clit against his skin and the line of coarse hair under his navel, and it sets you off instantly. 

You are coming so hard that it feels like you are about to explode. Your muscles spasm around his cock, against his body, and the feeling surges through your whole body that you can feel the burning heat rushing everywhere. The sounds you are making seem foreign to your own ears as you cry out in your climax. The high-pitched moans that are followed by the sound of your ragged breaths seem to linger while you are riding your orgasm until everything starts to wane. 

The moment everything stops and you sag into his chest, you can feel that he is still hard inside you. Soft kisses bring you back to him, allowing you to feel the rock-hard shaft that is still embedded within you. Your pussy contracts intensely around him as he slowly lifts you up from his lap, pulling out his cock from your depth. Your head is still spinning as Namjoon lays you back down on the bed, barely recovering from your intense bliss, and he helps clear your foggy brain by kissing your lips gently, coaxing you to open your eyes.

“Turn around. I need to get deeper inside you,” he says, his voice sounding deep and raspy, strained with his need as he gently grabs your hips to guide you into position. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” 

Your body trembles at his voice and command. You can feel that he is being weighed down with his pent-up desire—and perhaps the exact same emotions that you are feeling now—and it puts you into action as you slowly turn around, giving your back to him.

Namjoon moves to take his place behind you, and you start grinding your ass to him as you feel him carefully shifting closer, and you can feel the heat of his body pressing against your skin. His hands come down to grab your hips, holding you still as he presses his body against your back. And then you feel him, the object of his desire, his cock that is still rock solid and still wet from your release as it comes pressing against your behind. 

He slides one hand between your legs, finding your folds with the tips of his fingers. You let out a gasp as he presses his fingers against your clit. With only his tender touch, your body erupts and you can barely hold back from falling forward. 

“Please”—you gasp breathlessly—“I can’t take it anymore. I’m so close.” 

You can feel him shifting behind you, and he gently parts your nether lips while he positions his cock at your pussy. You feel a nudge, and you can already feel the head of his cock penetrating through your entrance, spreading your walls for him once again and making them pulse around his cock as he slowly slides his cock inside of you. 

A moan comes out of your lips at the intense pleasure that you feel as he enters you, and the sound that you are making quickly intensifies when he wastes no time and begins rocking, moving in and out of you with ease despite the intense flutter of your walls around him. 

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me,” Namjoon moans deeply as he fills you up, inch by inch, making you arch your back when he reaches your depth. A small whimper comes out of you as you quickly readjust to his size. Your body has grown so used to his presence, and it should have been easy for your bodies to join together if not for the fact that you are still too sensitive after your previous climax. It takes a while before your muscles stop fighting against him, and he can finally start moving with more ease. 

Once Namjoon finds his rhythm, he moves his hands from your hips, moving them underneath you until he finds your breasts. He cups each one with his palms as he fucks you from behind. His warm palms are pressing and kneading at your soft flesh while his deft fingertips are moving to play with your nipples, rubbing at them and pinching harder while he picks up speed. 

It makes you feel breathless when the pleasure feels so intense. Each hard thrust that he gives you makes you feel as if you are about to shatter into pieces beneath him, yet his touch brings you back together again each time. The only thing you can do is close your eyes and bury your fingers deeper into the sheets as you enjoy every second, every thrust, and the delectable way his body is moving against you. 

“Fuck me harder, baby,” you start begging him when the pleasure inside you increases, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your climax. So close, but you need more to get there. “Please, Namjoon…!” 

After giving your breasts one last squeeze, Namjoon moves one of his hands back down to your hips, grabbing your flesh while he continues pounding into you from behind. He bends down, pressing his chest into your back when he whispers, “You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel it, baby. You’re gripping me so tightly.” He groans as he speaks, overcome with his own pleasure as he keeps fucking you to your blissful end. 

“Yes,” you cry out between your ragged breaths. “Please. I’m almost there.” 

Instead of giving you what you want right away, he moves his other hand upward and wraps his palm around your throat. He gives a light squeeze, not enough to cut off your breath or to choke you, but enough to give tension which only intensifies the sensation you are feeling running through your body.

“Cum for me, baby,” he says with a firm voice, adding the pressure around your throat as he thrusts deeply into your pussy. “Give it to me one more time.”

His words and his rough handling of your body become the perfect spell to finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm builds inside you, increasing so intensely that your entire body shakes against him. And he keeps thrusting, pounding into you hard and fast, hitting all the right spots until you come to your final climax. 

Your pussy clenches around him as the waves of your orgasm take you over, ripping through your body until you cry out in your release. It feels so intense that it pushes him towards his own edge. Namjoon comes into a climax with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his mouth comes pressing down on you as he bites a small part of your skin.

Every sound, every sensation blurs together in your bliss. Even the gentle rocking that he still keeps up as he slowly rides out his orgasm feels like it is happening outside of your body. Once everything wanes, neither of you makes a move to separate, and you take the moment to relish the remaining spasms of your climax that are growing numb. 

“—love you.” 

His gentle voice breaks through the blissful fog that you are currently being stuck in. Every sound comes fading in and out as they all return to you and his voice seems so distant that you nearly miss it at first. But then he presses his lips on your skin, finding your pulse, and his voice clears out the moment he speaks again. 

“I love you. I always have.” 

Thinking back, there had never been a moment where he ever spilled his entire heart like this. Not until the letter that he wrote for you, where he slipped those three magical words between the words that he wrote to get you to see the world that was built around him through his eyes. 

Tears threaten to fall, and your eyes become blurry once again. Only this time, it isn’t the intense rush of pleasure that is blinding you, but the tears that are pooling from underneath your eyelids. 

“I love you too,” you find yourself saying to him before a sob breaks through. Giving him the three exact words that you never got to say to him back all those years ago. “I loved you with everything that I have back then, and I still love you the same now.” 

Once again, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His chest rumbles against your back when he releases a soft groan. Just when you start feeling content in his embrace, he carefully pulls out and untangles himself from you so he can flip you over. 

Now lying on your back, you get a clear view of his face. His eyes are looking at you with an intense gaze, his lips are swollen from kissing you, and his cheeks are still flushed after his climax. 

“Say it again,” Namjoon says with a gentle voice, the complete opposite of the firm touch that he is giving you as he takes your hands and entwines your fingers with his. “Say those words to me again.” 

“I love you,” you whisper, drawing a soft sigh out of him. He lowers himself down, once again covering your body with his. You can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as your bodies are pressed together, his lips hovering so close to your lips that you can feel his sharp inhale of breath and his slow exhale when he says, 

“Again. I need to hear it.” 

“I love you,” you gasp softly, though the sound fades when he gently kisses you. 

“Again. Say it,” he murmurs against your lips, and when you answer him, your voice comes out louder, firmer, when you give him what he wants. 

“I love you.” 

You have heard of stories about meeting the perfect match for your soul, something that may only happen to those who are lucky enough in life to experience it. The once-in-a-lifetime occurrence where you fall deeply for someone and have the entire course of your life changing. 

As you revel in his presence, you realize that this is it for you. That he is your person. The one that your soul recognises as its perfect pair. It feels terrifying to accept this rather than it is freeing. Because right at that moment, you instantly know that you will never be able to love anyone else again the same way you do him. You will never find the same kind of love, one that is devouring you from the inside, no matter how hard you would look for it.

And it terrifies you. 

Ever since the beginning, you have been going through this with him by facing it moments by moments, always with one feet ready to turn towards the exit, always prepared to face it once it ends. Now that he is offering you a future together, it scares you deeply that the only thing you can do is to hold him tightly, afraid that your fragile hope would shatter if you ever let go. 

I love you. I am writing it here, plain and clear just as how I feel it. Like how you gave me these same words in your old letter. The same letter that helped me open my eyes to see the truth between us. I love you. Those three words would never be enough to show how deeply I feel for you.  Just how simple words would never be able to explain the reason why I have to walk away.  If only our story had been written differently, maybe we could have the ending that we have always wanted.  The perfect ending. An ending where you and I are together as one, forever, without being haunted by fear nor concern. Without having to wonder about what the world would think of us and forever be tainted with the repercussions of our sins.  I will forever love you. That part of my truth will remain unchanged. Even if everything has changed between us.

Your hand trembles as you finish writing the last part of the letter that you are planning to send him. 

It seems ironic to end everything through a letter. Only because it seems to you as if everything is coming to a full circle, when he was the one who sent you the letter which ended everything between you in the past, and now you are the one to pull the brakes with your words. 

In truth, you never wanted this to end. Never once had you ever thought that you would decide to once again walk out of his life just when there was something to hope for. But this has to end. This time, however, you have the right reasons to call things off instead of simply trying to keep what small part of your dignity left intact after you had sacrificed your entire heart and soul just to love him. 

Just like how you thanked the entire universe to allow your paths to cross each other’s once again so you could feel his love for one last time, you are now thanking the same universe for allowing you to see the light. To see the truth that neither of you had been willing to see.

You cannot remember how you found yourself strolling through the mall that night. It was six months ago, merely a couple of months after you began planning your escape, to be together with Namjoon after he promised you the rest of his forever. 

But you remember exactly what you found, and how it forced you to open your eyes and face the reality that you had wistfully ignored. As if fate had intentionally taken you there that night to show you what you needed to see. 

The pull that Namjoon has over you has always been—intense. Irrevocable. In a way that you could walk into a room and sense his presence before you could ever see him. That had been the reason why you managed to find him that night despite never knowing that he would be there. As you walked through the hall leading to the cafe which you regularly visited after working hours, and there he was, completely oblivious to your presence while he was dining in one of the restaurants nearby. 

And he was not alone. 

In your head, you have had the perfect portrayal of what kind of life that he has with the woman that he married, formed through everything that he had once shared with you. But that image went down the drain after what you saw that night. 

You had thought that she was the light in his life. The one person who has claimed the special place in his life, to be right by his side. 

But you were wrong this whole time. Neither you nor her had ever been his light, nor had you ever deserved to claim that special place in his heart, when it had already been reserved for someone else. Someone who was more deserving. 

And you only realised it then, when you saw him there with his baby daughter sitting on his lap. As you watched him tending to her needs with full of care while watching her lovingly as the small child blabbered silly nonsense to him over their little dinner date. Every illusion that you ever had about his life shattered the moment you saw the smile on his face. The way he looked so happy, so free, a sight of his that he had never shown anyone else before. Not even to you. 

Witnessing everything that was presented before your eyes, you realised how blind you have been. Though you also realised that Namjoon had always been able to make you feel that way, to prevent you from looking at the world around you whenever he had you wrapped in his arms. He had kept you in the dark for so long, veiled from the reality where his other life still existed, kept safely in a far distance where you wouldn’t be able to reach. 

That was the moment when you finally woke up from your dream. To realise that it would never be possible for the two of you to be together. Not without facing a heavy repercussion—like hurting an innocent soul and shattering whatever image that she had ever created of her father.

That was when you decided that you had no place in his life.

When you stepped away from the scene, the fractures in your heart presented themselves to you, reminding you that they were never truly gone as they manifested with each step that you took to walk away. The strong urge to turn back around kept weighing you down. Yet you resisted, choosing not to ruin what was possibly the sole reason that he ever had to hold on to the life that had kept him isolated even from himself. 

Namjoon might think of you as a coward, because that is exactly what you are. And what you have been doing for the past half of year has been nothing more but a coward move that no doubt has been hurting him since the moment you took that fated decision. Just when he was finally ready to fight for the life that he wanted to build with you, you had instead chosen to run. 

But you chose not to disappear from his life right away. You could never do that to him after everything that you shared together. And you needed a proper closure, to relish some more time with him and create more memories while you were slowly planning your departure. Starting by gradually avoiding his texts and calls and using your busy days as your excuse to see him less frequently as before. It pained you to hear his disappointment whenever you evaded him, and it hurt even more when you had to swallow your words, forcing you to keep the big secret that you had intended to share with him the night you saw him with his little girl.

During this period of time, something else had helped strengthen your resolve, making you more determined to move forward with your decision to leave. 

The conversation that you had with him about his life and the relationship that he has with his wife has been haunting you ever since that picnic date, way before you finally got to see him showing his love that was so pure to the one poor soul that you could never afford to hurt. For a period of time since, you have wondered if what he has truly been searching for with you was nothing alike to what you have desired to find by loving him.

You realise now that you can not be his saviour. And when you realised just how much younger and inexperienced you had been when you first met him, you have started to wonder if he had been trapped in the same situation that he has with his wife, when he had created an ideal version of you in his head that he thought he had fallen in love with instead of the person that you are today. 

What would happen if you were right and you had chosen to stay?

You had thought that you would be ready to face everything being thrown your way to fight for your love. But would you be able to face the same despair that he has been facing through his life, only to remain to be the same person that he loved, even when a lot of things have changed?

You look over to the pile of suitcases that have been set up in the corner of the room, ready to be lifted away from this place. Somewhere inside, there are a few of his things that you have collected and are planning to keep. Among them would be one of his shirts that you would often wear to sleep at night or when you are lounging alone at home. For some reason, that shirt has become your favourite among his other belongings. You love breathing in the scent of cologne that still sticks on its fabric, though it has grown fainter with time and from being washed over and over, yet it seems like everything about him still remains strongly in your memories that you can still sense everything about him all around you. 

Deep down, you know you should feel guilty for keeping some of his belongings when you decided to leave. Despite your wish to be able to move on, you want to keep the memory of his presence in your life in some way. Yet his old belongings are not the only things that you are keeping to forever carry a part of him in your life. 

For the first time ever, you can finally allow yourself to be greedy. Because this time, you have every reason to be this way. 

A soft cry calls for your attention from the next room, so you leave the unfinished letter on the dining table and rush your way over. The corner of your bedroom that had once housed the big desk which he often used to work from home has now been replaced by a wooden crib. It isn’t anything fancy, just an old second-hand crib which you thrifted from a nearby vintage store. It was the only thing that you could afford under a short period of time and while you were saving up some money to move out of the city. 

A move that would be costly now that there are the two of you instead of you alone. 

The cries soften immediately once you look down from above the crib, cooing softly at the sweet baby who is looking back at you with a pair of wide, teary eyes. Seeing his face makes you smile, even when uncertainty plagues you. You always wonder what kind of world he is seeing through his eyes. If he is just as terrified as you are for the future that lies ahead of you. 

“Why are you awake this late, baby?” you coo at your baby boy as you gently lift him up in your arms. He fusses a little in your hold, but the crying comes to a halt once you have him pressed against your heartbeat. “You can’t be hungry already. Were you scared because I wasn’t around when you woke up?”

As your baby makes his cute baby noises with his eyebrows furrowed as if he is complaining at your absence, you feel that same fear gripping at you from deep within. The fear that first started to manifest inside you the moment you saw those lines staring back at you from the home-kit pregnancy test. The fear that kept on growing while you were busy contemplating how you were ever going to give the news of your pregnancy to him before you left. It wasn’t your intention to keep this from him, yet there had been too many risks that you would have to face should the news of him having a baby outside of his marriage ever comes to light. 

In the end, you had decided to keep things to yourself. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing the admiration that his little girl had for him, nor have you had the courage to face the condemnation that may follow once the presence of his illegitimate son is revealed. It took a lot of effort on your part, but you still managed. Hiding your pregnant belly for an entire nine months had been quite a feat, and it would have never been possible if not for the growing distance which allowed you to evade his perusing gaze while the baby was growing rapidly within you. 

If it had only been you who would have to face it, you would be willing to face the challenge of building a life with Namjoon with your head held high. But your son doesn’t deserve any of the pain. He doesn’t deserve being placed in the shadows and living the kind of life that you had with his father because he needs to remain a dirty little secret. And he doesn’t deserve feeling less than he should because his father had reserved that special place in his heart for someone else. When he had already promised his entire universe for her daughter. 

As you hold your sweet little child in your arms, you feel a new kind of resolve. Tomorrow, as you make your final exit from this place, along with your suitcases and everything else that are precious to your heart and your sweet baby boy in your arms like this, you will be sending that letter in the mail. 

Just like how he did it then before he left the city to be with her.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be just you and me, but we’ll get through it, won’t we?” you whisper to your child who is now smiling at you, as if he knows that you are in dire need of his reassurance to get through everything. It feels painful still to look into his eyes, finding the gaze that seems so similar to his father’s that your breath gets caught each time, and the dimple that appears on his cheek which mirrors the one that you loved. You close your eyes and press your lips on your son’s forehead as you silently pray to the universe that you are choosing the right path this time. That everything will be okay once tomorrow comes. 

Tomorrow, you will say goodbye for the life that you have here. To all the memories that you have created with Namjoon, and the shadows of your past that are filled with his presence. 

It would be a terrifying thing to do. But this time, you are ready. Ready for a new life. A new start. Ready to find the love that you deserve to have. And you will be ready to write your own ending.

It won’t be perfect. It may never will be. But it will still be yours. 

⤑ Author’s Note | This was quite a journey to have and it took me longer to finish than I actually thought it would. How did we ever got to this point with such a lengthy story, I really have no idea. This story was originally planned (or unplanned) to be Namjoon’s birthday fic, yet here we are now, a month later and I’m just releasing this one so late. I hope that this story can entertain you in a way, and that you enjoyed this little adventure that I’m sharing with you. Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, leave comments and questions if you have any, and any kind of feedback will be welcomed. Thank you again for reading! Update | this fic continues with a short story: Our Imperfections

— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Oct 12th, 2023

[marycatgirl]

summary : headcanons with soft!toji ;

warning : ooc toji, pure fluff, gender neutral reader ;

words count : 726 ;

mary ♡ : english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes 🫂, hope everyone will like it ! dividers from @enchanthings and @cafekitsune ♡

soft!toji, who will always be there for you if you ask and won't leave until he is sure you are perfectly fine and your life is not in danger. he just doesn't want to lose you and so he does everything he can to make sure you feel great and don't need anything, his life really does change because you are there for him.

soft!toji, whose embrace is the warmest in the world, his hands stroking your back and tucking your hair behind your ear as he kisses your forehead, toji is truly in love, for when you hug each other, you can feel how calm he is and how calm his heart is that has been searching for you for so many years.

soft!toji, who looks at you with eyes full of love. seriously, i've never seen him like that before. his eyes are full of warmth and care when you come into sight. it's like toji smiles with his eyes when he sees you and can't stop hiding his smile, because it's so funny that one person can make him a teddy bear.

soft!toji, who always loves to talk to you about everything in the world and will never stop listening to you. your voice soothes him and makes his whole day better, that's why he wants to hear it in the morning, afternoon, evening and every minute of his life, you can talk about anything and toji will fall in love with you even more.

soft!toji, he loves to be a little spoon, yes he is so big and mean, but... he still wants to feel loved in your arms, and the way your hands stroke him while he falls asleep makes toji the happiest person on this earth.

soft!toji, he will never yell at you, you are too precious to him for him to hurt you with his words, you have no idea how his heart will break when he sees your tears and how he will blame himself for it. so toji listens to you carefully, speaks his point of view and resolves everything peacefully so that you can then make up and be happy again.

soft!toji, and his love language is physical contact, i think it was already clear, he likes the sensations you give him, that's why toji's touch is so gentle and careful, like you're a fragile vase that could break at any moment.

soft!toji, who is always joking around with you, to see you smile next to him, to hear your wonderful laugh. he literally lives for that, he will make the most crazy jokes to cheer you up a little bit, don't take offense to him, he's really trying hard for you.

soft!toji, his ritual for a happy and successful day is to kiss your nose and inhale your scent. he finds peace in these actions and how beautiful you feel in his arms. toji realizes that no one can ruin his day after that.

soft!toji, who likes to give you flowers. he loves the way you take care of them and look at them as if they were your little children. that's why, toji loves to give you the most beautiful flowers because they are perfect for you. he doesn't need an occasion, he will give you flowers on any day he wants.

soft!toji, who will try to cook for you. yes, it may turn out disgusting, but he will definitely try to make your favorite meal taste good! because he is very pleased when you praise him for such things, he is like a little kitten at such moments. but he also loves to cook with you! he helps you or just stands behind you and cuddles up to you, gently hugging you.

soft!toji, who is actually very romantic, he likes to think out your dates and take you to different places that he thinks you might really like. it could be a simple coffee shop that is decorated in a style that you love. toji picks up on the smallest details that interest you and he is sure to memorize them all, you are very lucky to have him around.

soft!toji, calling you his prince/princess, because that nickname fits you perfectly and that's exactly how toji will treat you like you're royalty. seriously, he's ready to make you the king/queen of the world.

[toodelusionalforreality]

Absolution

Azriel x Reader(N)

Summary: Two lovers separated out of necessity finally reunite, only for a brief tryst.

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. It's an extended universe for a plot I was working with details tbd but doesn't involve much plot here. So it should be an easy read. This is my first ever Tumblr publish and it's scary!! So be kind. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: ~4.5k

Warning: NSFW, 18+ SMUT, f!receiving, m!receiving(barely), sappy start+spicy middle+angsty end (i guess), voice kink, p in v. Mentions of OC other than reader[not enough editing/proofreading/formatting]

Azriel stepped into the room desperately holding on to the moment, afraid Crone Mother would change her mind. N sat on the balcony—like every evening, on the floor, her legs crossed, her hands clasped in her lap. The curtains came alive with the touch of a gentle breeze to guard her from him. Her sheer dress melded with her body under the radiance of the fading sun, her skin aglow as if made of stars and gold. Summer flowers adorned her hair, tucked into the braid that unravelled after the day’s practices.

His shadows peeked over his shoulders and swarmed his hands buzzing with excitement. With each silent step, he prayed he didn’t break her trance. He settled before her—bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his elbows on them, and his wings tucked tight to his body.

The hue of the setting sun made everything heavenly about her—soft, ethereal. Wisps of hair teasing her cheeks, the knowing smile on her lips, the slight flutter of her eyelids under his stare. A sigh escaped Azriel’s lips. It was a worthless attempt to hide his presence from her, the one who held the sight. 

Azriel wasn’t a fool to waste the mercy bestowed upon him after months of longing to be close to his beloved. He stretched on the floor, his head finding its rightful place in her lap, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her scent and warmth made their bond burn brighter and he sighed in contentment.

After long minutes, N rested her palm on his head. Her fingers carded through his hair, and her nails scratched his scalp the way he liked. A thumb teased the shell of his ear and his wings responded with a sudden tremor.

Azriel smiled. He buried his face into her thigh. Air shifted around them as her body answered to his touches and breaths. Despite the need clawing in his chest, he chose to wait a few minutes, to savour the comfort of her simple touch.

N broke the silence. ‘How was your day?’ Her voice was as sweet as ever.

‘Long. Excruciatingly long,’ sighed Azriel. ‘I started with your friends from the armoury today. Until your mother sent me to the gardens.’ He remembered the smile on the older woman’s face when she took him away from the others. A secretive, mischievous one. ‘She enjoys testing me a bit much. She made me tend to your roses.’

N laughed, the sound sending a shiver through him. ‘That must have been a vision. Maybe she’s exacting revenge for how you treated her back home.’

Azriel’s heart thudded in his chest. Home. No matter what Crone Mother said, N had one home. It was with him, in Night Court. ‘I think she’s forgotten all that. She’s more interested in stealing you from me.’ His arms tightened around her and his shadows whirled around them emphasising their master’s possessiveness, ‘But I don’t mind. As long as she lets me be with you for a while.’ His lips twitched. ‘Did you know everyone here addresses me as your mate?’

Another laugh broke through her lips, ‘They're not wrong.’

‘No, they are not.’ Azriel finally looked up. Her eyes were already on his face. ‘I’ve been called many names over centuries. Shadowsinger. Spymaster. But this one,’ he leaned up to her face, ‘I like the most. To be known as yours before they even know my name.’ He got to his knees and trailed a knuckle along her jaw. ‘I’d like that for the rest of my life.’ Their bond strummed a tune so loud that rendered him senseless. ‘I want to have a life with you. A home, a family. Anything you want, any way you want. As long as you want that too.’

‘You mean that.’ N stated as if she needed to reassure herself. She stared at him with a mask of impassivity on her face that almost rivalled his own as a spy. Then, she smiled. ‘But I’ll have you know there will be more tests from Crone Mother.’

'I’ll suffer anything for you,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘So that’s a yes?’ N nodded before her eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘What is it?’ His senses warned him, his shadows stood alert on his shoulders. 

‘Well, technically, we’re married.’

Silence fell between them. Azriel’s fingers left her skin.

‘What?’

N shrugged. ‘Do you remember the first time we duelled?’ Her voice was steady but her hesitance broke through at the sight of the male who sat frozen in front of her. ‘You made me bleed. You proved you were my equal. And, it all happened after the bond snapped for you.’

Azriel remembered that day. He had wanted to impress her. It was the day he felt the warmth of her breath on him for the first time. For days and nights to come, he relived those moments until his skin prickled with heat.

N’s unsure laughter died soon when he didn’t even blink. His shadows retreated. His end of their bond quietened, alarming her. 

Finally, he said, ‘All this time you were my wife?’

Her breath stuck to her throat. ‘According to our custom, yes.’

‘And you kept that a secret.’ His wings flared behind him to their full glory and his eyes narrowed. ‘What did we discuss about your secrets?’

N leaned back, ‘Was I supposed to tell you all this when I had your blade to your throat? I’m not sure you’d have been open to that conversation.’ Her voice reeked of confidence but Azriel saw the facade waning in her darkening eyes.

Memories flitted through his mind—visions of her from the instant he laid his eyes on her to the present. Every misfortune they endured, every second they spent in love, every. . . 

He stalked her on his knees, his hands on either side of her. He hissed, ‘You slept with those males after that.’ A sound escaped his throat, a rumble deep from his chest. ‘My wife slept with other males to spite me.’ 

N stared at his lips and swallowed thickly. She hurried back, her hands slipping on the smooth marble under her. 'Azriel,' she whined wincing at the way her body welcomed her impending doom.

Azriel inhaled sharply. ’You like that? When I call you my wife?’ He chuckled darkly. His lips whispered against hers, ‘Of all the things you kept from me, this is the worst. You’re not getting out of this easy this time.’

N pleaded with her eyes. Her breaths shuddered. ‘They are watching.’

‘Then they’ll know my actions are justified.’

Azriel dove for his kill but before his hands grasped her, she faded away. Her airy laughter echoed in his ears. She stood in the middle of the room—her hands gently clutching her skirt to free her feet, her braid coming undone over her shoulder, teeth sinking into her plump lip—a vision of devilry and seduction.

His eyes flashed up to hers with a glint. His shadows who wanted vengeance of their own circled his shoulders and arms with a frenzy. N was in trouble and she knew it. She turned to run only to be met with his hard chest emerging from a dark mist.

‘Did you really think you could get away?’ He caressed her cheek, ‘There’s no escape from me. You should know that by now.’

N slid her arms around his neck. ‘Back then, we barely knew each other. I didn’t want to scare you.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sent every ounce of sincerity in her being through their bond, still he kept his end cloaked.

Azriel pulled his arms away. Dark amusement shone in his eyes. ‘As if a silly apology is going to save you.’

N smoothed her palms over his chest. ‘I know.’ Her lips brushed against his skin, littering his face with soft pecks. ‘I know,’ she kissed the corner of his lips, moving closer and closer to the centre as she breathed the words, ‘I’ll make it up to you. For every secret.’

Even as N pressed her body into his, Azriel stood unmoved with a cruel smirk on his lips and his hands by his side. Her fingers wandered over his sculpted torso before unbuttoning his shirt. The shadows on his shoulders swayed, watching, waiting. The regal female who made others quiver with fear grovelled for his forgiveness, and his wretched heart grew giddy with power and pride.

Azriel itched to grab her waist and bite her lips until she bled for him again. A true victory in this duel. He closed his eyes in a wasted effort to tame his thoughts. At the first touch of her cool fingers on his bare chest, he almost gave in. 

His eyes snapped open the moment N pulled her lips away. She dropped to her knees, her fingers dancing on his hips. Pressing a kiss below his navel, she inched her hands between his legs and fondled him with the heel of her palms. The warmth from her hands seeped through the cotton, which he was forced to wear upon their arrival, promising him the pleasure that awaited him.

In all the years with her, Azriel treated her lips as a relic–sacred and holy–a crown jewel in the trove that was her body. Something to be guarded, treasured, worshipped. He never had to take her mouth the way she offered to him to reach for the stars.

N smiled sweetly. The goddess who witnessed every vice and virtue under the sky knelt before him with love in her heart and devotion in her eyes.

Enchanted, Azriel watched her. His lips parted with a shaky breath. Their bond blazed with emotions he couldn’t name. At that moment, he knew there had never been nor ever will be a male more blessed than he was.

His scarred hand cradled her cheek tinged with a soft blush. She leaned in, closing her eyes, trapping his hand between her shoulder and face. She sighed. She kissed his wrist, his palm, his fingers. 

Azriel couldn’t decide which was in more pain—his heart or his cock. Both, mere toys in her hands. 

N grazed her lips against his clothed hardness and Azriel closed his eyes. His head fell back. A gasp escaped deep from his chest when her tongue soaked him through the fabric. He couldn't remember why he wanted to punish his sweet mate. He was close to breaking already and all she did was tease.

A sharp scrape of her teeth along his length had him bury his hand in her hair softer than the flowers that tumbled down her breast. He hissed in warning as his eyes held hers in a glare. 

‘I want you to look at me,’ she smiled. That damned smile that masked her every cruelty.

Too much time had passed since they felt each other’s skin. Months, almost a year of not seeing each other, not holding each other. And there she was ready to worship him with her entire being if only for a night until their time ran out. Every move of hers had his heart wring in pain, the desire through the bond overwhelming and consuming his soul.

His shadows swooped down and pulled her to him. Azriel crashed his lips onto hers before her feet rested on the ground and stole every little breath from her chest. His shadows brought them to her bed, delicate and soft fit for a queen, like her. 

He pried the cord that held her dress together below her breasts. His lips ventured south leaving a trail of red on her neck and chest while N rewarded him with her moans. Shadows, ever obedient, parted her dress to make way for their master’s hand to relish the smoothness of her skin. He caressed every inch of her body with his marred hands except where she ached for him the most. She pleaded and moaned, guiding his hand between her legs. 

‘You shouldn’t have lied to me,’ he growled, letting his canines scratch her jaw. ‘You know how I feel about secrets, don’t you?’ A sob left her lips as the back of his fingers teased her entrance with the barest of touch. ‘Is this what you call making up? Crying and moaning until your husband fucks you?’

N froze. Her eyes stared into his with unspoken emotion that radiated clearly in their bond instead. ‘Azriel, please.’ His hand came down hard between her legs. She arched her back beautifully for him as a silent gasp escaped her lips.

Azriel memorised every pull of her muscles. ‘You should’ve known better.’ He slipped his fingers in and out, barely past her entrance, coaxing moans out of her. Her wetness had his mouth water. He undid his pants enough to ease himself out and thrusted into her in a single move.

They were perfect for each other—masochists at heart, denying themselves release until the day for their reunion drew closer and closer. N reached a hand out and clawed at his chest. Her eyes widened and soon glazed with pleasure. Her lungs ached for air. Her body begged to escape the feral male whose only intention was to devour her body and soul. Yet, she wrapped her legs around him.

Azriel waited panting, his heart losing its rhythm, shirt clinging to his back. N tugged him closer with her heels on his ass. He growled, baring his teeth. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to his chest. Her eyes fixated where his hips snapped against hers, where they were finally a whole. Each of her whimpers nudged him to quicken his pace.

He felt his release closing in. ‘Is this what you want?’ She looked up, mewling for him, her eyes burning with tears. Too soon. He pulled out of her weeping cunt and dove in with his tongue.

N cried out his name, sweeter than any melody she had ever sung for him. Her body slumped on the bed. She sought for leverage, her hands fisting the pillows. As she felt her fingers grasping at reality, shadows weaved around her wrist and pinned them above her head.

Azriel watched his mate’s body collapse and crash at his ministrations. He dug his fingers into her thighs tearing them open. Her bright eyes pinched shut before she met his crazed ones. With her chest glistening with sweat, her neck reddening, and her teeth sinking into her wet, swollen lips, she came.

Watching her body shiver with every lick of the evening breeze, Azriel rid himself of his clothes. He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she stared dazed. He laughed and nipped at the insides of her bicep, clearing the fog in her mind. Her arms flushed red as blood rushed back. Her fingers twitched and his shadows trickled along them. She came alive with whines when he slipped his fingers inside her.

Her desire came in waves through the bond. A groan rose from his chest, a guttural rumble. Even after his transgressions, she only wanted more, more of him. N clenched around his fingers at the sound. Azriel chuckled darkly into her ear. N curled into herself and clenched again. A renewed glint came to his eyes as he stared into hers. 

‘She likes my voice, does she now? I always wondered. . .’ He lowered himself between her legs again, his second haven, the first being her embrace. A series of soft ‘please’ escaped her but the lust in her eyes told a different story, the bond sang a different tune. And he chose to heed its calling.

He wrapped a hand around her thigh and pushed the other aside with his shoulder. He didn’t want to miss this one. It was no new knowledge. He always had his suspicions, years of practice in observing the unobserved. But to finally see it with his own eyes, he was desperate to witness it. He wanted it to be true, he prayed for it to be true. 

The room was filled with nothing but N’s silent pleas. Her wetness glistened in the last lights of dusk promising him an elixir crafted just for him. A fresh wave of arousal rolled over her body. Azriel hummed, breathing in the scent.

‘So pretty,’ he exhaled. His eyes took in every flutter that invited him back. ‘You like being praised, don’t you?’ N moaned fighting against the shadows that held her hostage. Azriel pulled her close by her hip and inhaled—loud and deep—his nose almost touching her. 

‘Always wet for me, eager for me.’ His voice softened, his taunts dying as if his anger was meant for N and not her cunt, ‘I missed you so much. I can tell you missed me too,’ he pressed his lips to her thigh, his eyes unwavering, ‘by the way you wrapped around me, by the way you swallowed me.’ His cock throbbed at his own words. 

He rasped, ‘Look at you, teasing me. Do you want a kiss?’ He flattened a hand on her abdomen, his fingers stroking deliberate patterns. ‘My tongue, my fingers? Hmm?’ Her hip jerked up for more and he pressed a kiss to the arch above her clit.

'Azriel, please. I want more.'

‘So wanton, so needy.’ A wisp of shadow licked her entrance once and N closed her eyes. Her hips moved in tandem as if she could materialise what she needed out of thin air. ‘So beautiful.’ Azriel grazed a thumb along the junction where her leg met her hip. N fell back with a groan.

‘You want me, don’t you? You never lie to me,’ another kiss to her thigh, ‘You can’t lie. Unlike N,’ his eyes finally caught her desperate ones. For a moment, he almost felt tyrannical to let the wicked smile pull at his lips. N threw her head back and circled her hips again.

‘That’s it, pretty. Show me how you’d fuck me. Show me how beautiful you are.’ His tongue trailed a line alongside his thumb, ‘Come for me.’

Her legs went taut around his shoulders. Her toes dug into his back next to where his wing emerged from. When her stomach sank in, Azriel shoved two fingers inside and held it there as she unravelled with a choked moan. 

Pure, perverse pride filled his chest as his mate bucked and thrashed at the impact. Azriel was sick—sick at heart, sick in his desires. He never denied it. But it hardly felt a sickness with N trembling with his fingers inside.

Having lived through the horrors he did and committed unspeakable sins over his lifetime, Azriel knew there was no absolution for him. Nor that he cared. He already had his heaven, right there, in front of him, basking in the afterglow of pure pleasure.

He nuzzled his nose into her thigh to steal a little more warmth from her exhausted body. He brushed his cheek against her, closing his eyes, savouring the moment before his primal need destroyed the only person he loved the most. He hummed satisfied, pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin, his pathetic attempt to atone for the wicked he unleashed upon her. His heart should cower in shame and guilt, yet it swelled with love and hunger.

His name, whispered once, tore his attention from his perverted thoughts. He never cared for what he was called. But in her sweet voice, a sacred chant uttered in the confines of their chamber, he liked no word more than his own name. His shadows answered her call, smoothed over her sweat-covered body apologising for their master’s sadism, burning her skin with their delicate coolness. Some mercy, for they were no better than him.

Azriel brushed a thumb along her cheek gathering her tears away, a tender kiss placed in their stead. He smiled like a gentle lover. He parted her lips with his fingers soaked in her essence and slid them past her teeth.

With hooded eyes, N looked up at the male who sought the remnants of her soul clinging to her body and sucked on the tips. Her tongue rivalled the wetness between her legs. She was a true seductress.

Azriel lapped at his fingers and the lips sheathing them alike, tasting her whole at once, embracing the insanity he fought to stave off for so long. Even when he slipped his fingers out of her mouth, even when he pressed his body onto hers, even when he lined himself to her welcoming heat, he didn’t break the kiss like her lips were his only tether to reality.

N stilled beneath him. Another tear slipped from the corner of her beautiful eyes. Azriel was cruel, but he was capable of loving his mate right. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and smoothed a palm over her hip. He inched in slowly into her pulsing cunt, ‘Give me one more, love. Just one. For me?’ 

His mate, ever merciful, nodded. The adoration that flowed through the golden string between their hearts reflected in her eyes. ‘Please,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please, Azriel. I want to touch you.’

The one whose dangerous hands slit throats of the most feral of males and females with grace asked to touch him so sweetly. How could he deny anything to her?

His shadows didn’t wait for his instructions. They released her arms and slid over to the skin their master left unattended, staking their claim on her body. Azriel reined them back only to lose control again. She made him jealous of his own shadows, ones meant to serve him, ones who forgot their place around her.

A long sigh pulled his focus back to her. Too exhausted to hold him like she always did, N ran her hands along his sides. ‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’ Azriel lifted her thigh higher and wrapped it around his waist ripping a whine from her throat. He did miss her. He missed everything about her. Her raw devotion to him, her pure heart, her unconditional love.

As he moved deeper and deeper still, he felt it. The echo of a song he knew too well, one of love and longing that kept them connected through the times of separation. Beyond the familiarity of its thrum, he recognised something else.

Like catching a flicker of light after being lost in the dark for long. Like the first time he gained control of the darkness he was born with. Like the first time he tasted his freedom. In her arms, everything made sense. His breaths strained.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. ‘I missed you,’ There was a tremor in her voice. Azriel soothed her with his own declarations but she shook her head, ‘Don’t make me leave you again. Please, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t, not without you.’

Azriel always believed he loved her more than she could love him in her lifetime. His petty display of jealousy and temper, a proof of his love. What an arrogant fool. His heart ached for failing to truly see his beloved’s feelings for him, how deep it ran in her veins, how it destroyed her while it breathed life into him.

He pulled her close, enveloping her in his comfort, and his wings draped around them.

‘Promise me, Azriel.’ She closed her eyes, ‘Please.’

‘I’m here now,’ he caressed her cheek. He left kisses on her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and finally on her lips. ‘I’m here. I’m with you, love. I’m here.’ And at those words, N let go one last time leading him to his release.

Azriel left his shaking mate in the bed with a kiss when he came back to his senses to draw a bath. He stood by the door of her bathroom and watched his shadows tickle the skin below her ear. A light chuckle escaped her lips as more chased her hand. It was a sight he was used to and missed dearly.

N smiled at him as he carried her in his arms. Her body shivered at the first touch as Azriel lowered her into the tub. She tugged at his wrist, and he joined in. She leaned her back into his chest and closed her eyes. The water washed her exhaustion away while his hands massaged her tender flesh. Her eyes struggled to stay open and she sank deeper against him. As he dried her tenderly after, she watched him with an easy smile.

Azriel carried her out to the bedroom and paused. Fresh sheets lined her bed. Sweet fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air. Lit candles stood on windows and her desk. Moonlight streamed past the drawn curtains. His shadows failed to notice, too lost in her as he was.

‘I told you they were watching,’ N said, her voice quiet and tired. 

He eased her into the bed and pulled a blanket over her legs. He traced the marks of red on her stomach and between her breasts, marring her pristine skin—still a masterpiece—complete, perfect. ‘Do you think they’ll let me near you again after seeing what I’ve done?’ He couldn’t stop the smile that cruelly tugged at his mouth.

N groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure Mother Aarzu is already dissecting how you wrecked me for her next seduction lesson.’ 

‘Well then,’ Azriel laid beside her and pulled her to his chest, ‘I’m willing to contribute more to these lessons. They sound very necessary.’

She glared from behind her hand. ‘Mock all you want but your brothers are worse. I bet Rhysand was listening to your thoughts the whole time. And they are already planning on ways to taunt you.’

Azriel lifted a brow. He opened his mouth to defend his ability to guard his thoughts when his brother’s laughter echoed in his mind. ‘Your shields are pathetic when she’s around. They went down the moment her lips were on you.’ N flinched in his arms and he knew his brother invaded her mind as well for his next words, ‘Thanks for the show. Quite an. . .inspiration.’

N scoffed, ‘I don’t know why we do it behind closed doors.’ Her words had his mind conjure ideas already. A frown appeared between her brows. She looked at him sharply when she felt a hardness pressing into her hip, ‘We’re not doing that.’

Azriel laughed aloud. Something he hadn’t done in a while after he sent his mate away. ‘Anything my wife wants,’ he teased. He cradled her face against his chest and kissed her eye. ‘Anything you want.’

[maikissed]

cherry flavoured lips

Kylian Mbappé x reader

summary: he stole from her a few of cherry flavoured kisses. would she forgive him? warnings: bit of sexy times I guess?

I honestly love it, probably there will be more parts

She felt exceedingly excited, gazing out of every window she passed as she moved around the house, checking every few minutes to see if her friend has already arrived. She must have looked a tad silly, but she truly hoped none of her family members noticed her stoked trot through the corridors. She was standing in the kitchen now, observing her mother’s process of cooking, the woman’s talking surrounding her, but the words blurred and incoherent. Breath stuck in her throat as she could hear the front door opening, she hoped it was not her father. Straightening from the counter slowly, she watched Kylian’s tall silhouette entering the room and she smiled at his presence. It was not such a very long time since she has saw him last, but she was always dazed by every change in him she could notice every time they met. It was like he seemed taller every time, or broader? Or maybe a little bit older and more mature and collected, the boyish aura fading in him, his features more sharp, his gaze surer, harder and confident. She stood still, letting her mother to smother him first.

“Kylian! Salut!” older lady called, her fingers covered in flour so she leaned into him, greeting their guest with two gentle kisses on both cheeks. “How you’ve been, darling?” she beamed looking up at him.

“Bonjour. I’m good, thank you. Happy to see you well" he smiled brightly at the tiny woman, his heart warmed at the fond greeting and his eyes travelled behind her for a second, noticing his lovely friend standing with her hands joined on the countertop, simply observing his interaction with her mom.

“Oh, we are so happy you made it!” her mother added “The dinner is not even close to be ready yet, but I’m on it” she laughed, circling the kitchen counter to resume her previous activity with the big heap of dough. Kylian of course had to comment on how delicious was the smell of the stew slowly boiling on the stove.

It was just before y/n approached him to pull him in a tight hug. He let out a quick laugh of contentment as they swayed a little in their embrace. Her smell coating him, he missed it.

“Are you getting even bigger, or is it your new oversized clothes style?” she joked leaning away in his arms.

He frowned funnily at her question, her voice slightly sarcastic.

“You love my style” he acknowledged, smirking at the roll of her eyes.

“It’s debatable” she stepped away from him, slapping him playfully on the arm.

He followed her outside to the spacious terrace with a view on the elegant and well-kept backyard and family’s vast area of apple and cherry orchards further away. He always enjoyed spring and summer here - fresh and full of sun, and most importantly quiet. But before he could revel in the sight of the lovely countryside, his gaze rested on her silhouette before him. Her back to him, she was saying something about one of his games – she was most likely making fun of him as she enjoyed so much – but his mind didn’t pay much attention to it. He was hypnotized by the way the end of the flounce of her dress was fluttering delicately with her every move, the material high on her legs, the dress was rather short, a lovely one. It was a hot day, she had every right to dress as comfortably as she liked and he was in no position to ogle his friend so shamelessly. It was inappropriate.

She smiled at him as they sat down. Did she ask him a question? No, he didn’t think so.

“I love the taste of the smell here” he commented looking around to see if anything changed since his last visit.

“Oh, yeah? Dad has too much free time lately and planted marigolds around the corner. They stink awfully” she scrunched her nose in disgust.

“Really? I thought it was the scent of your new perfume” he shrugged and there was too much seriousness in his features but she knew he was being ironic.

“Oh, wow, really funny” she snickered at his comment and there was a sound of a gentle chuckle coming from him.

“How is your dad?” he asked.

It has been few weeks since her father had a bad stroke, it was not the easiest times of her family’s lives. It has been one of the most stressful ones, she has been worried like never before, but she had Kylian’s support, even from the distance, even when he had more important things on his own mind. She appreciated it greatly.

“He’s much better, still has some troubles with bad cramps and stiff muscles but he’s working on it. He is at the rehabilitation right now” she shrugged, calmer now since the worst was behind them.

“I’m glad to hear it” he smiled softly at her.

She bend her legs at the knees and placed them on the big patio armchair behind her. The weather was pleasant, even warmer days were coming, the vision of the upcoming holidays looked to be wondrous and she hoped they could use more time here as they used to as children. But they had more responsibilities and their own activities, so much less time for each other as they grew older. But she was happy they at least could still meet like this from time to time. They still managed to make it.

Suddenly the doors to the terrace opened with a thud and she spotted her little sister approaching them. Her long hair a little messy, there was a wide smile plastered on her face.

“Kyky” Fleur announced, more than called, and wrapped her hands around Kylian’s shoulders to hug him, a sweet kiss placed on his cheek.

Her sister adored him from her earliest days. It was no surprise at all.

“Hello Fleur, how are you?” Kylian chuckled, taking her hand in his as she graciously circled the couch and sat beside him.

“Very well. I’m finishing the school year so there’s still much work for me to do, but few more classes and I’m starting my well deserved holidays” she grinned gazing up at him, Kylian exchanged a little amused smile with y/n.

Fleur was exceptionally mature and well-spoken for a kid her age. It could be infuriating at times, since she revelled in being a smart ass with her nose always in her books, but Kylian pinpointed that Fleur was a spite image of her older sister. And there was much truth into it, but y/n wasn’t so keen on admitting that.

“I’ve missed you, really” she sighed “Not as much as y/n, I suppose, but I have. She was literally checking the driveway every five minutes with hope that you’ve arrived” she grinned mischievously, sending a dangerous look in her sister’s direction. Y/n frowned. Fleur was a very evil child.

“Right” y/n cut in acting carelessly “Lemonade?” she leaned into the little table between them to pour them some.

“Kylian, this is the best time for you to visit us” Fleur declared, changing the subject and sitting on her knees to face him comfortably “I have a very important essay for my French class and I need some inspiration” Y/n’s eyes shot up, very curious about what kind of inspiration would she need now. Something football or sports related? She doubted. “And since my sisters emotional range is the size of a grain of sand and her heart is hollow and dry as a desert, and most likely dead” she punctuated the last word “I have thought I must ask you”.

Y/n choked on her cold lemonade and Kylian laughed softly, his eyes a little wide when he looked at his friend.

“Fleur” she complained sending her a questioning look, but her sister acted like she did not notice at all.

“Alright, ask away” he encouraged, not very much prepared for the upcoming question.

“Have you ever been in love?” if y/n took another sip of her sour lemonade she would most likely choke herself to death.

Kylian’s smile died a little but was still present on his face. One of his knees jumped up lightly and he looked like he considered his answer. Fleur was serious, expecting an answer from him, matter of fact y/n was waiting for it as well.

“Yes” a clear answer. He was looking at Fleur. She nodded. Y/n’s gaze focused on his face, examining his expressions, reminiscing his past girlfriends.

“How many times?” she continued.

“Uh” he stammered a little “Once”

“Interesting” Fleur announced, a spark in her eyes as there seemed to be a process of deep thinking in her hard working brain “You’ve had girlfriends, as in plural. So it means only one of them was the object of your true feelings?”

“Fleur” now y/n chastised her sister for prying too much into Kylian’s personal life. She placed her glass back on the table.

“What? Those are just harmless questions!”

But Kylian cut in:

“Answering your question Fleur: not exactly”

“What does it mean?” she seemed excited turning her head back to look at him.

“None of them was the object of my true feelings”

This answer surprised y/n. She didn’t know what answer she expected, they never talked much about their love lives, mostly it was the time when they weren’t keeping in touch so frequently. It was an odd subject, they never really knew how they felt about each other dating people. But they accepted it, because they were best friends, they did not own each other exclusively.

“Now, that complicates all” Fleur sighed resignedly “How could you be with someone you don’t love?” she asked almost accusingly, making Kylian bit his lip with perplexity.

“It’s like you said. Complicated” he stated, his knee bounced up once again. His expression soft, his gaze landing on y/n for a split second. Their eyes met.

“This love you mentioned at the start…” Fleur still kept digging “You fell out of it or is it present still?”

“Okay” y/n called, her voice firm “Fleur you’re being nosy. Go write your essay now, it should be enough, this big brain of yours can surely make up the rest of it” she sent her a chiding look.

“See” she nudged Kylian “Dead heart” her voice almost a whisper now.

Kylian sent her a lovely smile before she stood up, Fleur added something about games night before she left them, but there was too much burden on y/n mind to focus on anything now. She took a breath and tried to mute the race of thoughts inside of her. Kylian seemed relaxed.

“I think it’s the best time for a walk” she started with a smirk “Wine or champagne?”

“In this weather, I’d say champagne” he answered calmly.

“Champagne it is” she stood up with intention to rummage through her father’s wine cellar.

They took off in the direction of the orchards, sun was about to set in about two hours, the evening aura of June coating them warmly as they strolled through the enormous tracts of cherry trees. The stillness and quietness of southern countryside brought him peace and calmness he yearned for amongst the noisiness and turmoil of all the cities he visited in just those last few weeks. Crickets chirping amongst the grass, frightened birds taking flight from the closest trees as they passed, some singing prettily in the distance. It was a lovely, cherished time. Any time they both stole something from the house they used to come here, to hide amongst the trees and talk, play and laugh for hours. At the beginning it was candy or ice cream before dinner, then beer and other alcoholic beverages as they grew older. Something to remember for years.

Now, a little tipsy from the alcohol they drank on their way here, they enjoyed each other’s presence. The bottle of champagne almost empty in Kylian’s hand. His head lighter, as he looked around, taking a big, cleansing breath. Y/n laughed about something and he looked at her, noticing her cheeks painted a sweet rosy colour. The most refreshing and calming amongst all those wondrous things was the sight of her. For him, she was a treasure, the most beautiful thing he could revel in. His fingers itched to grab her, touch her, make her laugh more, make her look at him like he looked at her.

“See?” she asked suddenly and he had to shake off this little trance that overtook him “Those are the sweetest in the season” she pointed in the direction of the cherry tree line on their right “But they ripen late in the summer. I guess you always have to wait a little bit longer for the sweetest things” she remarked looking his way over her shoulder, he smiled at her, she smiled back and blinked before taking few more steps ahead.

With a jumpy run she approached different trees on their left.

“But these…” she reached to pick some red fruit “Are ready for harvest”

He could not stop his eyes from falling lower, observing the hem of her white summer dress as she stood on her toes with her hand up. So high on her thighs, he could feel a wave of heat washing over him. He had to look away.

She run up to him, close, bringing one of the cherries to his lips.

“Try it” she encouraged.

“You know I’m not a fan of cherries. It’s too sour”

A delicate frown appearing on her face as she put the fruit in her mouth instead. She bit it, spatting the seed out to the side. Somehow this act fascinated him. She looked careless and content.

“They’re not so sour. Maybe just a tad, but they’re good” she added with her mouth full of more cherries and he watched, with his eyes wide open, as she licked her lips, now darker, painted burgundy by the cherry juice.

He could not tear his eyes from her lips, maybe she noticed, but he couldn’t care less. His heart started to beat ruthlessly against his ribs, blood pumping quicker in his veins. The thing he wanted most in the world right now was to taste this goddamned cherry, but straight from her lips. It almost made him dizzy. She placed the fruit on his lips once more and he parted them slowly, his gaze now meeting her big, almost dark eyes. She looked lower at his mouth and giggled sweetly.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s not poison, try” she almost whispered, a little bit out of breath, he noticed.

He smirked taking the fruit from her fingers, noticing another plump one unluckily crushing between her fingers, a trickle of juice flowed down her digit. It was difficult to fight it, in fact, he did not give it much of a thought as he quickly spat the seed out to the side and reached with his hand for hers, bringing it closer to his lips and with the help of his mouth and tongue cleaned the juice off her fingers. The most insane part of this act was the fact that he did not dare to look anywhere else except her eyes as he did it. It felt forbidden, could seem innocent, but with the thoughts and visions hiding behind the blackness of his eyes, it felt obscene and almost pornographic. And to add to it all she made a soft noise, hard to describe and depict but a lovely one, the prettiest one, the gentlest gasp that fought it’s way out of her. His head was spinning. He had to, he wanted to, he yearned to. So he did it. He closed the distance between them, placing his palm behind her head and kissed her on the mouth. For the shortest moment her body went rigid under his touch but he did not stop and could feel her relax short moment after. Putting his other hand on her hip he pressed on her to take a step back, guiding them both deeper into the trees, carefully pushing her against one of them. She did not fight him, he took it as a good sign and reassurance, that she would not push him away. Wreaking havoc sensations awaken inside of him, and the excitation urged him to do more. Her soft lips danced with his perfectly, the taste of cherries lingering between them, he grew impatient. He needed more taste. The tip of his tongue pressed against her lower lip and she invited him, she let him in, parting her sweet lips to let him take what he pleased. Another pretty sound made by her reached his ears and it felt like a deadly shot to his senses, he grabbed her waist firmly, his mouth turning ruthless and wanton, his thigh secretly slipping between hers. She moaned again into his mouth. Her hands on his nape and biceps, wandering, touching him, holding onto him.

“Most perfect way to taste the cherries” he whispered between kisses, his right hand travelled higher up her body.

He could feel many things, the warmness of her body radiating through the material of her dress, her chest rising and falling quickly, out of breath, her heart beating hard against his own chest, the rhythm of his and hers beating in sync, he realised. And she was kissing him back with the ferocity and urgency matching his. The earth shook underneath their feet. Kylian turned more bold, pressing his knee higher between her legs as well as his hand that rested right under one of her breasts. He stroked it gently with his thumb and could feel her tremble in his embrace. How far would he go? How far would she let him? He was driven by wicked and untamed needs and sensations. And finally his thigh met the apex of her legs and she jumped, a feverish moan of hers followed.

“Kylian…” she whispered against his lips, a plea, he felt ecstatic and groped her breast, she writhed against him “Kylian, stop” she breathed.

But he didn’t want to stop, it was the last thing on his mind. He wanted it all. He wanted her. He wanted to blend into her. It was the first time he heard his name coming out her lips in such manner.  

“Oh” she whined when he pressed his thigh harder up in contact with her clit “Please, stop, we can’t” against his hungry lips.

She wasn’t trying to push him off her, her body was letting him to continue, but her words finally reached his consciousness and it awoke him. A protest was coming from her and it would be a tremendous mistake for him to ignore it. He stopped, leaning away from her and slowly opening his eyes, his hands still lingering on her shaken body. The sight he met was even more blissful than his dreams, her eyes wide and sparkly, hair lightly dishevelled, her skin flushed and deliciously radiant and her beautiful lips, swollen and reddened – the remnants of cherries and his kisses. But she said that they can’t and he blinked remembering the sound of these two words. What has he done?

She moved against the tree, something close to fear and insecurity visible in her eyes and he tensed, worried that he did something unforgettable. But she enjoyed it as much as he did, he could feel it. She looked away from him and his heart fell, with a gulp he watched her palm delicately resting on his chest. She tried to push him away, he could tell, but she did not put any force into it. So he made this task easier for her, stepping away a little, giving her space.

“The dinner must be ready now” she simply declared, her voice hoarse, her gaze distant, he frowned in disbelief.

Was she planning to act like none of this happened? He was out of words. Hurt.

“We should go” she stepped away, passing him and he huffed.

“Y/n, we should talk about it” he called but she seemed to not have any intention to turn or wait for him “Y/n, I’m sorry!”

Yet she fled from him. Just like that.

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty three

summary: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing, drug use, mentions of alcohol, suggestive themes, angst

author's note: thank you to the person who said y/n and rafe remind them of two ghosts by harry styles, yet another reason to cry over them

In the soft glow of the television, casting a muted ambiance across Rafe's room, he lay on his bed with Sofia resting against his chest. A quiet tension lingered in the air, intensifying in the days following the unexpected reunion with you at the restaurant.

Sofia, sensing Rafe's distance, absentmindedly traced circles on his chest with her fingers, attempting to bridge the growing gap between them. Tilting her head to look up at him, concern filled her eyes.

"Rafe, is everything okay?" Sofia's voice was soft and caring.

With a sigh, Rafe kept his gaze fixed on the TV screen, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Yeah, just… thinking about stuff, you know?"

Propping herself up on her elbow, Sofia studied his face. "You've been so distant lately. Is there something you want to talk about?"

Caught between the truth and the fear of causing more turmoil, he hesitated. "It's just a lot going on, Sof. I've got some things on my mind."

Understandingly, Sofia nodded, her fingers now tracing gentle patterns on his arm. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

He nodded, appreciating her support but unsure if he could share the complexities of his emotions. Sensing his reluctance, Sofia decided to change the subject, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Maybe we could do something fun this weekend, take your mind off things," she suggested, a hopeful smile playing on her lips.

Managing a faint smile in return, Rafe appreciated her effort. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

As the TV flickered in the background, the room held an unspoken tension. Sofia rested her head back on Rafe's chest, contemplating the subtle shifts in their dynamic. While she tried to be patient, a nagging feeling lingered – a realization that something had changed, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

However, as her gestures intensified, Rafe's patience wore thin. The unspoken tension in the room became palpable, creating an invisible barrier between them. Sofia nestled against him, attempting to intertwine her fingers with his. Growing increasingly irritated, Rafe pulled away, his brow furrowing.

"Sof, can you just give it a rest for a bit?" he muttered, the irritation evident in his tone.

Looking up at him, Sofia's eyes reflected a mix of confusion and hurt. "Rafe, what's going on? You've been distant, and now you're pushing me away. Did I do something wrong?"

With a sigh, frustration etching his features, Rafe admitted, "It's not about you, okay? I've got a lot on my mind, and I can't deal with all this right now."

She sat up, giving him some space but still visibly hurt. "Rafe, we used to be so close. If something's bothering you, I want to be there for you."

His annoyance grew as he struggled to find the right words. "I just need some space, okay? I can't have you all over me every second."

Tears welled in Sofia's eyes, hurt by the sudden change in his demeanor. "Fine, Rafe. If you need space, I'll give it to you. But this… it's not like you."

He didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the distant wall. The room felt heavy with unresolved tension, and as Sofia excused herself, the air between them lingered with unspoken words and a growing sense of unease.

Rafe's frustration reached its peak as he watched Sofia leave, the door closing behind her. He sighed heavily, pacing the room as if trying to escape the overwhelming emotions within. His hands ran through his disheveled hair, fingers gripping the strands tightly.

"Why can't anything just be easy for once?" he muttered to himself, a bitter edge to his voice.

The echo of his own words seemed to mock him, and he felt a surge of anger building up inside. Without thinking, he lashed out, his fist connecting with the wall in a raw display of frustration. The impact reverberated through the room, and a sharp pain shot through his hand. Rafe winced but welcomed the physical pain as a distraction from the emotional turmoil.

"Damn it!" he cursed, shaking his hand as if to ward off the sting.

Alone in the room, Rafe grappled with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. The weight of recent events, the encounter with you, and the strained relationship with Sofia created a volatile mix that he struggled to navigate. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as if closing in on him.

As Rafe nursed his throbbing hand, he sank onto the edge of his bed, overwhelmed by a flood of memories. The room became a stage for the ghosts of moments shared with you, and he found himself dwelling in the bittersweet nostalgia of your presence.

He closed his eyes, trying to summon the sensory details that clung to those memories. The way your hair smelled faintly of the ocean breeze, the melodic cadence of your laughter that echoed in his ears, and the warmth of your touch that lingered on his skin. Each recollection was a sharp pang, a reminder of a time when everything seemed simpler, when he didn't have to navigate the complexities of heartache and regret.

In that solitary moment, he romanticized the past, replaying the scenes where you and he were entangled in a dance of shared glances and whispered confessions. The room seemed to echo with the ghostly laughter that once filled it, now haunting him with the absence of your presence.

Sorrow tightened its grip on his heart as he wallowed in the vivid tapestry of your shared experiences. The weight of regret bore down on him, and he couldn't escape the haunting realization that he might have let something truly precious slip through his fingers. Yet, amid the pain, there was an undeniable longing, a yearning for a time when love felt uncomplicated, and the future held the promise of shared tomorrows.

As Rafe dwelled in the recesses of his imagination, he allowed the alternate reality to unfold before him like a hazy daydream. In this envisioned world, he saw a life where he had granted you that second chance on that fateful day, a life that diverged from the current path of heartache and solitude.

In this imagined narrative, the two of you flourished against the backdrop of sun-kissed memories, navigating the complexities of love with a newfound understanding. The island, once a confined stage for your relationship, now became a mere prologue to the grander story of your shared journey.

He envisioned the passage of years, the gentle erosion of the once-familiar island landscape replaced by the changing seasons of a more expansive world. The whispers of shared dreams resonated through the cozy northern town you had made your own, a place where the echoes of laughter and love were woven into the fabric of everyday life.

There, in this imagined haven, you and he found solace in the simplicity of shared sunsets and the warmth of a home built on the foundation of forgiveness and resilience. The weight of regret lifted, replaced by the buoyancy of a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger on the other side.

Yet, even in the reverie of this idyllic existence, a sense of loss lingered. Rafe couldn't shake the awareness that this alternate reality was a mere mirage, a poignant testament to the choices made and the irreversible course of time. The ache in his heart deepened as he contemplated the chasm between the life he had envisioned and the reality that now unfolded before him.

As Rafe's mental anguish escalated, he found himself teetering on the precipice of despair. The weight of regret, coupled with the sting of recent events, drove him to a breaking point. A torrent of emotions overwhelmed him, and tears blurred his vision as he grappled with the haunting echoes of your presence in his mind.

In a desperate attempt to numb the pain, Rafe sought solace in the familiar rituals that had become a coping mechanism, albeit a destructive one. With trembling hands, he reached into his nightstand, fingers closing around a small baggy containing a white substance. The act was mechanical, a reflex born out of habit and the relentless pursuit of an elusive escape.

The substance, once a temporary reprieve from the tumult within, now became a symbol of the deeper turmoil eating away at Rafe's soul. As he prepared to indulge in this fleeting escape, the room became a silent witness to the unraveling of a fractured spirit, a soul caught in the relentless undertow of its own despair.

The room, cloaked in the dim glow of despair, witnessed Rafe's descent into the abyss of his own making. Each inhalation of the numbing substance became a fleeting attempt to drown the sorrows that threatened to consume him. Tears, unbidden, streamed down his face, a silent testament to the profound ache that had settled within his heart.

As the chemical haze wrapped around him, he found himself lost in a vivid tapestry of memories. Images of you, smiling and carefree, intertwined with an alternate reality where he had chosen a different path that led to a shared future. The bittersweet agony of those imaginary moments intensified with every heartbeat, each line etching a painful reminder of what could have been.

In the midst of the solitary ritual, Rafe grappled not only with the substance but also with the weight of regret, longing, and the haunting specter of a love lost. The room bore witness to the silent struggle, a sanctuary of solitude shattered by the echoes of a heart breaking, one line at a time.

The substance's bitter sting lingered in Rafe's nostrils as he leaned back, the remnants of his chosen escape method still coursing through his veins. The room, once a sanctuary of solitude, now held the hushed aftermath of his self-imposed oblivion. A fleeting sense of relaxation swept over him, a momentary reprieve from the weight that had settled on his shoulders.

As he waited for the high to envelop him completely, Rafe's mind teetered on the precipice between reality and the numbing embrace of the chemicals. The echoes of memories, both real and imagined, lingered in the corners of his consciousness, competing with the euphoria that sought to drown them out. In this fragile interlude, he clung to the fragile promise of escape, a respite from the relentless ache that seemed to define his waking hours.

───────────────

The sun hung high in the cloudless sky as you and JJ embarked on the boat ride, the rhythmic hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop to the gentle lapping of waves against the vessel. The salty sea breeze tousled your hair as you sat beside JJ, your thoughts still swirling with the tumultuous events of the past days.

JJ, always attuned to your emotions, attempted to break the heavy silence that lingered between you. "You know, a day out here is gonna do wonders for the soul. Trust me."

You managed a small smile, appreciating JJ's effort to lift your spirits. The boat cut through the water, leaving behind a trail of frothy waves, and soon, the coastline faded into the distance.

As the boat sailed further into the vast expanse of the ocean, the horizon opened up before you, a boundless canvas of blues and greens. The vastness of the sea seemed to mirror the complexities of your own emotions. JJ, ever the optimist, nudged you playfully.

"Come on, Y/N! Let's make today a good one. Leave all that drama on the shore."

You nodded, silently vowing to try and embrace the fleeting escape from the troubles that haunted your thoughts. The boat sliced through the water, carrying you both away from the island, if only for a moment, and you allowed the gentle rocking to lull you into a tentative sense of peace.

As the boat glided through the sunlit waters, you could feel JJ's gaze on you, his eyes tracing the contours of your tanned skin as it absorbed the warm, golden rays. The sunlight played with the strands of your hair, creating a halo of light around you. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you found solace in the soothing embrace of the sun, its radiant touch becoming a balm for the wounds that lingered within.

JJ, perceptive as always, recognized the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Sunshine suits you, Y/N," he remarked with a grin, attempting to sprinkle a touch of lightness into the moment.

You chuckled softly, the genuine warmth in his words resonating with the gentle caress of the sun on your skin. For a fleeting instant, the weight on your shoulders seemed to lift, carried away by the sea breeze as the boat continued its leisurely journey across the open waters.

JJ glanced at you, concern etched across his features as he steered the boat through the gentle waves. "Y/N," he began, the hum of the boat's engine providing a backdrop to his words, "how have you been handling everything? I mean, after seeing Rafe and all."

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The vast expanse of the ocean seemed to mirror the complexities of your emotions. "It's been tough, JJ. I didn't expect it to hit me that hard," you admitted, fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of your sundress.

JJ nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. "If you ever need to talk about it or anything else, you know I'm here, right?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met JJ's sincere gaze. "Yeah, JJ. I appreciate that more than you know."

The boat sailed on, carving a path through the water as you navigated the currents of your emotions. JJ, a steady presence at your side, offered a reassuring anchor in the sea of uncertainty.

JJ grinned, his eyes reflecting the sunlight as he steered the boat. "You know, despite everything, I'm really glad we got past our previous issues and are still friends. Life's too short for unnecessary drama."

You chuckled, appreciating JJ's positive outlook. "Yeah, JJ, me too. You make everything a little bit easier."

The Chateau's atmosphere was thick with tension as you stormed through the door, your eyes ablaze with anger. JJ followed you, attempting to explain himself, but the hurt in your heart drowned out his words.

"You had no right, JJ!" you shouted, turning to face him. "You ruined everything!"

He held up his hands, a pleading look in his eyes. "I was just trying to be honest. Rafe had to know the truth, he's a fucking dick."

Your laughter was bitter and filled with frustration. "Honesty? You call this honesty? You destroyed my relationship with Rafe, and for what? To play the hero? You had no right meddling in my life!"

JJ's expression hardened. "I did it because I care about you! Rafe was gonna know the truth about the plan eventually."

Your fists clenched at your sides. "Well, congratulations, JJ. You've not only lost me my boyfriend, but you've also made sure Rafe will never trust me again. Is that what you wanted?"

He took a step forward, his voice lowering. "I wanted you to be free of the lies. I could see what it was doing to you and I was so pissed at Rafe and I-."

You scoffed, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "And what about hurting me, JJ? Did you even think about that?"

The room felt suffocating as the weight of the argument hung in the air. You turned away, frustration and betrayal burning in your eyes. JJ reached out, attempting to touch your shoulder, but you shrugged him off.

"Don't touch me, JJ," you hissed.

The tension escalated as JJ tried to justify his actions, his frustration mirroring your own. "You don't get it, Y/N. Rafe was pushing me. What was I supposed to do? Let him continue to walk around like he was hot shit?"

You scoffed, disbelief and anger painted across your features. "So, what, you just decided to spill everything? Betray me in the process? You had no right, JJ!"

He crossed his arms, his own frustration mounting. "He was asking for it. All I did was tell him the truth."

Your eyes narrowed. "And you think this is the way to deliver the truth? By ruining everything? You had no right to play hero, JJ. This was my mess to handle."

JJ's voice grew more intense. "He was getting under my skin, Y/N. Taunting me, pushing me to a point where I had to say something."

Your hands clenched into fists. "So, what, you just decided to throw me under the bus? And for what? To prove a point to Rafe?"

JJ's frustration turned into desperation. "I didn't want to hurt you, Y/N. But he needed to know what was going on. You can't keep playing both sides."

Your anger flared, and you took a step closer, glaring at JJ. "I never asked you to play hero, JJ. You took it upon yourself to destroy everything. And for what? To assuage your guilt?"

JJ's expression shifted to guilt as he realized the extent of the damage. "I just thought he deserved to know the truth."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Well, congratulations. The truth is out, and everything's gone to hell. I hope you're happy with what you've done."

The air in the room grew heavier as the argument reached a boiling point, the consequences of JJ's actions and your frustration colliding in a painful clash.

Tears streamed down your face as you hastily packed your belongings, anger and betrayal consuming you. JJ entered the room, concern etched across his face. "Y/N, please, just listen—"

You cut him off, your voice shaking with rage. "Listen? You've done enough, JJ. All you do is ruin everything. I can't believe you thought you had the right to destroy everything I had left."

JJ's eyes pleaded for understanding, but your frustration was uncontainable. "You had no right to tell him, JJ. It was my choice, my secret to keep. And you just trampled all over it."

He took a step closer, trying to calm the storm. "I just wanted him to know the truth, Y/N. He was pushing me, and I couldn't keep lying."

Your voice was sharp and unforgiving. "And look where it got us. Congratulations, JJ. You've successfully dismantled any chance I had left."

As the weight of the situation settled, JJ's remorse deepened. "Y/N, I didn't mean for it to go this way. I just thought he deserved to know the truth."

Your eyes flashed with anger. "Deserved to know? No, JJ, this wasn't your call to make. You don't get to play the hero in my life. Now, I need you to leave me alone. I can't deal with this right now."

JJ's attempts to mend the situation fell on deaf ears as you continued packing, each item a painful reminder of the life you had built on the island, now crumbling under the weight of betrayal and shattered trust.

JJ's voice cut through the tension as he yelled your name, desperation evident in his tone. "Y/N, stop! You're not going anywhere."

Your steps faltered briefly, but the fire within you refused to be extinguished. Turning to face him, you shot back, "Watch me, JJ. I can't stay here. Not after what you've done."

He closed the gap between you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Y/N, please. We can work through this. You don't have to leave."

But the pain and anger were too fresh, too overwhelming. You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Work through this? You destroyed everything, JJ. There's no going back."

The porch seemed like a battleground, emotions swirling in the air. You pushed past him, determination in every step. JJ called after you, his voice desperate and broken. "Y/N, I messed up, but running away won't fix anything. We can figure this out together."

You paused at the edge of the porch, a mixture of emotions playing on your face. "No, JJ. I need to go. I need to find some semblance of peace away from this mess. Goodbye, JJ."

And with that, you walked away, leaving JJ standing on the porch, helpless and haunted by the consequences of his actions.

JJ's question pulled you back from the brink of painful memories, and you turned your attention to him. The rhythmic sounds of the boat and the gentle waves around you provided a soothing backdrop to the present moment.

JJ's eyes studied your face, concern evident in his expression. "Hey, you've been through a lot lately. How about we take a break from everything and go to a party tonight? Just let loose and have some fun?"

With a forced smile, you responded, "Sure, JJ. A party sounds like a good distraction right now."

He grinned in response, seemingly content that you were willing to join in. The boat ride continued, the vast ocean offering a temporary escape from the troubles that haunted both your minds. Little did you know, the night would bring new challenges, pushing you to confront the ghosts of your past once more.

───────────────

The pulsating beat of the music filled the air as you navigated through the crowded house party. The dim lights flickered in time with the rhythm, casting a hazy glow on the revelers around you. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, and you could feel the bass thumping in your chest.

Taking another shot, you let the warmth spread through you, momentarily drowning out the weight of your thoughts. The scent of alcohol and a mix of perfumes hung in the air as you weaved your way through the dancing crowd.

JJ, your steadfast companion for the evening, kept a watchful eye on you. He had insisted on staying close, sensing that the party might stir up emotions you were trying to escape. Despite the chaos around you, the two of you found a moment of solace by a makeshift bar.

As the night unfolded, laughter and conversations melded into a symphony of chaos. The partygoers, a mix of pogues and tourons, created a dynamic blend of backgrounds and stories. You attempted to lose yourself in the music, letting the beat guide your movements on the makeshift dance floor.

JJ leaned in, his voice just audible over the music. "You doing okay?"

You nodded, the alcohol lending you a temporary sense of detachment. "Yeah, just trying to have a good time."

The night wore on, and the boundaries between reality and the rhythmic pulse of the party blurred. The fleeting moments of joy were punctuated by glimpses of faces that triggered memories — reminders of a past you were desperately trying to escape.

As you lost yourself in the music and the swirling lights, a tall, mysterious stranger approached with a confident smirk on his face. He interrupted your dance, his presence commanding attention. The beat of the music provided the backdrop for his invitation, and you looked up to meet his gaze.

His dark, expressive eyes locked onto yours, and a sly smile played on his lips as he smoothly asked, "Care to dance?" Intrigued by the invitation and the allure of the moment, you returned his smile and nodded, ready to let the rhythm take over and momentarily drown out the complexities of your life.

The tall brunette man's confident smirk widened as you accepted his invitation to dance. The music pulsed through the air, setting the rhythm for your impromptu dance floor connection. You felt the beats vibrating through your body as you turned around to face him, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

The two of you fell into sync, bodies moving to the rhythmic pulse of the music. The dim lights cast shadows on the dance floor, creating an intimate atmosphere. As you swayed to the music, the world around you faded, and the only thing that existed in that moment was the connection between you and the mysterious stranger.

The crowd around you seemed to blur, and the pulsating energy of the party heightened. Your movements became more fluid, and the stranger mirrored your rhythm effortlessly. The playful grinding intensified, creating a charged atmosphere between you two.

As the music enveloped you, you closed your eyes, allowing the rhythmic beats to guide your movements. The stranger's hands found their place on your hips, skillfully leading you in a dance that transcended the bounds of reality. The song's title and the faces around you blurred into insignificance, and for a moment, you embraced the blissful ignorance the dance offered—a temporary escape from the complexities that weighed heavy on your mind.

The tall brunette boy effortlessly spun you around, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. In a bold move, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hand found its place on your neck, the warmth of the moment enveloping you as you willingly succumbed to the sensation.

The intoxicating mix of alcohol and the heat of the kiss had your mind swimming in a fuzzy haze, and your body responded, almost getting carried away in the moment. The pulsating beat of the music seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of the kiss, creating a surreal and blissful escape. With your eyes tightly closed, you surrendered to the intensity of the kiss, allowing the thumping music to envelop you in a world of its own. Each passing second seemed to stretch into a timeless embrace, and the chaotic surroundings of the party faded away as you became immersed in the shared desire of the moment.

Your eyes slowly opened after the passionate kiss, only to be confronted with a sight that sent a jolt through your entire being. It felt as though Rafe's face had seamlessly replaced the boy's, staring back at you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. Shocked and unsettled, you instinctively threw your hands over your eyes, attempting to shield yourself from the surreal vision.

The boy, his brows furrowed in confusion, asked with genuine concern, "Hey, is everything okay?"

You shook your head, as if trying to dispel the unsettling image from your mind. With a forced smile, you told him, "I'm fine, just need to grab some water. Be right back."

As you stumbled through the crowded house, the disorientation intensified. The unfamiliar faces seemed to blur together, and the thumping music resonated in your ears. In your hazy state, you navigated the halls in search of a bathroom. A fleeting glimpse of a couple passionately making out in the hallway caught your attention, causing you to pause for a moment.

Suddenly, the faces morphed into Rafe and Sofia, and you winced at the surreal sight. Horror gripped you as the couple noticed your presence and looked at you with confusion. The disconcerting illusion lingered for a moment before you shook your head and hurriedly moved away, desperately seeking refuge from the unsettling images.

"Oh my God," you mumbled to yourself as you stumbled away from the confusing scene. Frantically, you found the bathroom and hurriedly stepped inside, locking the door behind you. Sliding down the door, you lowered your head into your palms, overwhelmed by sobs as you questioned your sanity. The disconcerting images and the weight of the emotions you had been trying to escape crashed over you, leaving you in a state of confusion and despair.

Your bloodshot eyes scanned the bathroom, the running mascara on your face revealing the sorrow you had tried to avoid for months. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you unlocked it with trembling hands, uncertain about where you were going with it. Frantically scrolling through your contacts, you searched for a sense of comfort in somebody. Eventually, you landed on Rafe's contact name. Your finger hovered over it as your hands shook, tears streaming down your face. The inner turmoil and the overwhelming emotions pushed you to the edge, and the idea of reaching out to him seemed like the only lifeline in that moment.

The room echoed with the sound of the ringing phone as you sniffled, your heart pounding with each passing second. The uncertainty of whether Rafe would answer or not intensified the anxiety that already gripped you. Each ring felt like an eternity, and in the midst of your emotional chaos, you questioned the wisdom of making that call.

"Y/N?"

The familiar voice sent a jolt through your system, and for a moment, you were paralyzed with a mix of relief and fear. "Rafe?" you uttered, your voice shaky and vulnerable.

There was a brief pause on the other end, as if Rafe was processing the unexpected call. "Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?" His voice carried a mix of concern and confusion.

Torn between the impulse to lie and the desire for honesty, you took a deep breath and decided to open up. "I… I'm not okay, Rafe," you admitted, your voice quivering with emotion. "I saw something, and I just needed someone to talk to."

Concern laced Rafe's response. "What happened? Are you in trouble?"

Your throat tightened as you recounted the strange encounter at the party, the hallucination that overlaid familiar faces onto strangers. "I don't know, Rafe. Everything is a mess, and I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Rafe's tone softened. "Where are you right now? I'll come get you."

You hesitated, unsure whether you wanted to involve him in your chaotic emotions. But, deep down, a part of you yearned for his presence. "I'm at a party… I don't even know whose house this is. Can you just… talk to me?"

Rafe assured you, "Okay, okay just relax. Send me the address and I'll be there in a few minutes. Hang tight, okay?" With that, the call ended, leaving you in the bathroom, the echoes of the party outside muffled by the closed door.

You heard knocking on the door suddenly, which made you flinch. You stood up and flung the door open, met with the sight of a random couple looking at you with confusion as they noticed your mascara running down your face. You pushed past them and made your way down the staircase. The pounding music and flashing lights disoriented you as you navigated through the crowded house. The staircase seemed never-ending as you descended, your mind clouded with a mixture of emotions. Finally, you reached the ground floor and burst through the front door, stepping into the cool night air.

The front yard offered a temporary escape from the overwhelming atmosphere inside. You took deep breaths, attempting to steady yourself. The grass beneath your feet felt cool and damp as you moved away from the entrance, finding a quiet corner of the yard to gather your thoughts.

As you leaned against the side of the house, you heard the distant thumps of the music echoing through the walls. The sounds of laughter and chatter were muffled in the open air, providing a brief reprieve.

The tears flowed freely as the memories of nights spent stargazing with Rafe flooded your mind. The stars above seemed to mock you, their distant twinkles resembling the fragments of your shattered heart. Alone in the darkness, you held your knees to your chest, unable to contain the sobs that wracked your body.

Each breath felt like a struggle, and the weight on your chest grew heavier with each passing moment. The cool night air did little to soothe the burning ache within you. It was as if the universe conspired to amplify your pain, echoing the emptiness you felt in the vast expanse of the night sky.

You wished for a moment of respite, a break from the relentless waves of sorrow crashing over you. Yet, in that isolated corner of the front yard, surrounded by the distant sounds of the party, you couldn't escape the overwhelming loneliness that consumed you.

Amidst the chaos of the party, you remained oblivious to the passing onlookers, their glances carrying a blend of confusion and judgment. The world seemed to close in around you, suffocating you in its relentless grip. Each heartbeat resonated with the pain echoing through your chest, and the weight of the night pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

The disapproving stares from strangers blurred into the background as your own internal turmoil took center stage. The universe felt indifferent to your suffering, and the isolation in the midst of a crowd intensified the sense of despair. It was a moment of vulnerability, a raw display of emotions that transcended the boundaries of the party atmosphere.

You clung to the hope that, perhaps, the night would offer some solace. Yet, as the minutes passed, the agony within you showed no signs of relenting. The facade of composure shattered, leaving you exposed to the harsh realities of heartbreak and longing. In that moment of profound vulnerability, you wrestled with the overwhelming pain that threatened to consume you entirely.

The cacophony of your breakdown was abruptly interrupted by a familiar voice cutting through the chaos, calling out your name with a mix of concern and shock. Startled, you halted your sobbing, slowly lifting your tear-streaked face to meet the gaze of the person before you.

There, standing in front of you, was Rafe. His expression revealed a cocktail of emotions—worry, surprise, and a hint of something else. His eyes, once filled with an intensity that was familiar to you, softened as they locked onto yours. The party's chaos seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of unexpected reunion.

As the night air hung heavy with the remnants of your tears, you and Rafe stood there, the unspoken weight of your shared history lingering between you. The world around you momentarily ceased to exist, and the only sound that mattered was the echo of your name in his voice.

"Y/N?"

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[zhng96]

𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 (𝐖/ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒) ― zb1

↳ pairing: ot9!zb1 x gn!reader

↳ warnings: lowercase intended, these r a lot longer than blurbs LMFAO, implied situationship at the beginning of jiwoong's?? mentions of drinking in zhang hao's, gunwook's is short sawry :(

↳ note: these r so fun i want to do a part 2 of just them as other taylor swift songs. taerae and hao's are my personal favs they are literally so cute i will die.

perm taglist (open): @tzuberry

― KIM JIWOONG.

↳ now playing: style by taylor swift.

jiwoong finds himself slowing his pace as your house gets closer into his view. the light thuds on the concrete pavement are the only sounds that are heard at this time of night in your neighbourhood, but it evokes a sense of comfort.

in hopes of distracting you from his slowing pace, he reaches out to thread your fingers into his. when he hears the hitch of your breath, he smiles- suddenly the thoughts of parting for the night turn into an overwhelming amount of admiration towards you.

despite never disclosing your relationship, it is clear that the two of you are very into each other. however, that didn’t stop the heavy question from lingering on your lips every time you see him.

(more under the cut!)

sure the silence was nice, but your overwhelming thoughts consume you and a question seems to sprout out unprovoked.

“jiwoong, i’m not the only one you’re seeing, aren’t i?”

of course, you couldn't blame anyone for also take interest in him either, he was attractive, dreamy and kind.

jiwoong seems to freeze for a moment, his grip on your hand loosening while the rest of his body tenses in reaction; quite the juxtaposition, but it showed that even in the most compromising situations, he chose to be delicate with you.

"yn, i-" when the sound of his wavering voice fills your ears, you instantly back down.

the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable and lose him altogether, "sorry it's just- i'm so tired of this cat and mouse game-"

"yn." this time, his tone was quite the opposite of what it had been before. that was one thing you admired about him; the way he picked himself back up so easily.

you look at him with furrowed brows, your rambling voice slowly fading out as yours eyes meet his. "i'm the one who should be sorry... i may have been seeing other people but trust me- none of them compare to how much i feel for you."

watching as your lips part in surprise, a warm smile makes its way onto his lips before he continues, "you are worth more than i think i could ever give to you- but if you will have me, i'll try my hardest to give you everything you deserve."

"jiwoong, you have given me everything i have ever wanted and more."

― ZHANG HAO.

↳ now playing: you are in love by taylor swift.

it wasn't like mieun meant to do it of course- she was hammered; but even with that in mind, you couldn't help but be pissed. your clothes were now drenched in her concoction of drinks and spots were starting to dry, causing bits of your shirt to stick to your skin. thankfully, while you were patting your shirt with a wet paper towel, hanbin came over to offer to look after her while you either went home or found a change of clothes.

spoiler alert- you ended up doing both of those things.

however, the last thing you expected was to see your best friend zhang hao at the party as well- also as a designated sober friend. he watched the interaction from afar: your figure in distress as you try to find a way to either get home or get out of these clothes.

"yn!", he calls from over the music, and your head immediately turns in his direction. he gestures to you to follow him and you oblige.

"wait in the bathroom, i'll grab you the spare clothes i have in my car", he then opens the bathroom door for you and gives you a reassuring smile, before shutting it as you walk in.

after what felt like forever, a gentle knock sounds throughout the bathroom.

"it's me, i'll just leave the clothes hanging on the doorknob alright?"

you let out a small 'okay', before opening the door just a crack and reaching for the bag hung around the door knob and shutting it once again once it was in your grasp.

fortunately for you, the liquid had not gotten onto your jeans so you just had to change into his shirt. disgustedly stripping off your shirt, you turn on the sink and wash off any alcohol that had stuck to your skin and when you finally put on zhang hao's shirt- a whiff of his cologne wafts into your nose.

fighting off the blush that threatened to creep up on your cheeks, you take the leftover fabric from the shirt that draped just past your mid-thigh and tie it into a thick knot before leaving the bathroom altogether.

you hadn't expected zhang hao to just be a few inches from the bathroom waiting patiently for your return, but there he was, and his eyes lit up at the sight of you.

"you ready to get out of here?" he asks, silently basking in the sight of you in his shirt.

"but what about mieun?"

"hanbin's already taking her home."

to say the ride home was filled with conversation would be a big fat lie. it was quite silent, zhang hao's radio was turned down to almost a whisper. although you were itching to say something, you couldn't find anything to talk about and it seemed like zhang hao was very comfortable in the silence. did you only see him as a best friend? does someone who only sees someone as a best friend find it hard to find something to converse about with them? all the more, blush when they give you their shirt to help you out?

"zhang hao.." you started, but you couldn't seem to find words to let you finish.

after a few seconds following your failed attempt at conversation, zhang hao smiles gently before glancing at you briefly, "you're my best friend."

tilting your head at the cryptic statement, you want to inquire before he beats you to it, "but i'm in love with you. like truly in love."

licking your lips, your eyes never leave his figure. his eyes stick to the road, but you can tell he meant it- you could sense how he itched to look back at you, "i think i'm in love with you too..."

― SUNG HANBIN.

↳ now playing: call it what you want by taylor swift.

hanbin has made it very clear that he would do anything for you and more. if he had the ability to give you the world he'd also find a way to gift you the moon as well.

for example, when earlier today you had told him you were craving stir fried spicy pork- now he had just texted you that he was on his way with spicy pork and your favourite dessert.

when he arrived at your door with the biggest grin, both the stir fried pork and dessert in his arms, he quickly sets them down to replace them with you. the embrace was quick but full of every feeling that bubbled within him everytime he saw you.

when you lean in to peck him on his cheeks, his eyes catch a gold necklace with a heart pendant dangling from your neck. obliging to your kiss, he smiles before his hands move to rub the heart between his fingers.

you quickly blush- you hadn't expected him to notice the new necklace so quickly.

"what's this?", he asks, before a carving on the back of the heart scratches at his finger tips.

he flips it over to find his initials engraved on the back side of the heart- a big goofy grin finds its way onto his lips and you can't help but focus on each and every feature of his face as he reacts.

"you bought a necklace with my initials engraved onto it?"

"yeah... not in a weird possesive way or anything i just... the way you love me is the most precious thing in my life and i never want to forget what- or rather who makes it so precious in the first place..."

"we better get me one of your initials too then."

― SEOK MATTHEW.

↳ now playing paper rings by taylor swift.

matthew liked you. like really really liked you. he found it so unbelievable that you held the same emotions for him, but you did- and god did you know how to make it known.

you were on the same boat, matthew has always been the sweetest, most patient and understanding person you had ever met.

the night he had confessed to you while rewatching a romcom for the 13th time in a row had made it’s way into your “favourite memories” folder in your head.

he was everything you could ever ask for and more- everything he did for you was so much even if it was just buying you your favourite snacks.

before you even considered your feelings for matthew, you considered yourself as someone who wasn’t exactly the most romantic- but when you were around him it’s like a switch flipped.

even if you adored the thought of the idea of a beautiful crystal sitting in the middle of your wedding ring, one which glistened beautifully when the light hit no matter the angle, even if matthew proposed with a ring made of newspaper- you’d accept it in a heartbeat.

“what you thinkin’ about?” he drawls, nudging you by the shoulder as he left no space between the two of you on the couch.

“mm.. js’ really love you.” you smile, glacing at him with adoration.

his eyes crinkle as he smiles and he grabs your arms and pulls you closer to him- if even possible.

“i think the world of you.” he replies, hands resting on your thighs as you were now straddling his waist. you knew that even if that engagement ring was made of newspaper, matthew’s neverending fondness for you would make up for it.

― KIM TAERAE.

↳ now playing: fearless by taylor swift.

as much as you felt bad for leaving your coworker's wedding, it was getting boring and you weren't about to waste the 150 dollars you spent on a nice outfit just to sit and clap while others danced.

thus leading you to be drive down the dark streets in taerae’s car with the radio on blast. the late summer rain started pouring, but taerae's windshield wipers found it easy to wipe away any droplets of rain from the windshield.

lovers wasn't the right word to describe your relationship with taerae- it more of you having a crush and not knowing if he felt the same. way he looked in a button down, his blazer discarded in the backseat, and his sleeves folded up to his elbows.

he hums along to the song while you simply stare, he looked so good right now- that wasn't exactly what someone should be thinking about they're best friend, right?

"the rain's starting to pour really hard, how about we park at the 711?", his suggestion immediately snaps you away from your stupor and you find his eyes glancing back and forth between you and the road.

"uh- yeah... that's fine."

when taerae pulls into the parking lot, he cranks the radio even louder and you look at his with a raised brow, "c'mon!"

widening your eyes at the sight of him opening his door to make way for the pouring rain, he steps out and kneels to make eye contact with you, his gaze expecting you to do the same.

"what?!"

"we didn't leave the wedding just to not have any fun, c'mon!" you bite your lip in contemplation at his reasoning- surely it was a good argument.

nodding to yourself, you open your door and try not to flinch at the feeling of the rain starting to soak your well done hair.

taerae quickly makes his way you your side of the car, keeping the door of the passenger side slightly agape to hear the blasting radio better.

once he turns back to you, you swear you had tunnel vision- his hair was slicked back by his own doing as the rain soaked it and so was his button-down.

he takes hold of one of your hands and raises it above your head, twisting it to help you spin- the sudden action makes you grin.

then he grabs onto both of your hands and starts to dance, relishing in the way the music echoed throughout the desolate gas station parking lot.

"taerae! my clothes were 150 dollars, i don't know if playing in the rain would make the price worth it", you say between giggles. even as you said it, you complied with his dancing.

he tilts his head in amusement, watching as you too enjoyed the moment albeit the comments that were meant to bring the two of you back to reality, "alright then, if we get it dry cleaned and i take you out to dinner, will it be worth the price then?"

he pulls you close, the two of you stopping in your tracks and a burst of confidence surges through your veins, "yeah... it'll be worth every moment i spent thinking about you too."

― SHEN RICKY.

↳ now playing gorgeous by taylor swift.

your relationship with ricky was simply that there wasn't one. sure you were acquaintances as you know each other through mutual friends and those mutual friends hang out a lot, but you just can't seem to talk to him.

grudgingly, you'll admit that you don't talk to him because you hate the butterflies he gives you from simply looking at you, or the fact that you swear you would melt into a puddle if he smiled at you.

however, for ricky, he enjoyed how painfully obvious your ignoring of his existence was. sure, he found himself smirking at himself at the thought of you unable to even maintain eye contact with him when he asked you a question, but had he ever found out why? the answer was no.

maybe it was because of the rumour that you truly did have a boyfriend? perhaps the rumour had been true and you were simply just avoiding him because your boyfriend had asked you to. or it was something completely unrelated to even having a boyfriend at all and you just had some problem with him that he was unaware of.

he settled on the former- he didn't want to suffer through a headache due to mindless thinking.

however, his observation was clearly proven wrong when he finds himself left alone in a room with you after both of your guys' friends went to the convenience store without you two knowing.

the silence was awkward, ricky watched as you fidgeted with your fingers and absolutely avoided even looking in his general direction.

"why won't you look at me? or talk to me? we've known each other for 2 months now..."

you purse your lips and finally find the courage to meet his eyes, you quickly regret that decision as you find it hard to look away.

"i'm not good with talking to people..."

"such a cop-out answer", he chuckles, his smile only making your heart race faster than it already was.

"do you have a boyfriend?" the casualty of his question catches you off guard and you part your lips in surprise, an obnoxious questioning sound coming from your lips.

"what made you think that?!" you finally manage to sputter out an answer, and ricky gives you an entertained smirk- you feel like you will melt in your spot if he keeps it up.

"so you aren't avoiding me because you have a boyfriend?"

"what kind of nonsense is that? i'm avoiding you because you're really cute and i hate that just by looking at me i find myself unable to process anything!"

a few seconds of silence overlaps the two of you before you snap your mouth open in distress, "shit..."

"hey, don't stress, we can take this slow. at least now i know why you were avoiding me."

"take things slow..?"

"you didn't think i'd care about you ignoring me if i wasn't an ounce interested in you, did you?"

― KIM GYUVIN.

↳ now playing: cruel summer by taylor swift.

you were in quite the predicament. kim gyuvin was your brothers best friend, not someone you could have a crush on. you two were friends, not close of course; only usually talking when your brother was around. after all, it would be quite weird to hang out alone- at least in your opinion.

in all fairness, you hated your relationship with him. you hated keeping secrets from him just to keep him around. sure, it was selfish to wish for more, if you told him you liked him and it didn't turn out well, your brother may end up losing his best friend too.

however, you were in much luck. your brother along with gyuvin had just graduated. you once had overheard the two talking about moving out together and going to a school the next city away.

summer was dawning in, the rain started to leave and your mind turned it gears with careful cogs. now was the perfect time to confess- if he rejected you, your relationship would not weigh in on his and your brothers', if he said yes- well, you hadn't really thought about it.

either way, either ending satisfied you. you didn't expect much from it, really- but the thought of having a chance to keep him around filled your being with much hope.

it was at least 1 hour past midnight. you went down to grab a small midnight snack, the weight of seeing gyuvin in the living room with your brother free from your chest after hearing the snores coming from your siblings' room just down the hall.

as you turn from the stairs to face the kitchen, you find a tall brunette sitting at the kitchen island, eyes already on your figure.

"oh-"

"hey", his smile was gentle, his voice was laced in fatigue but he didn't seem to want to move in his spot, almost waiting for something- or someone?

"sorry, i thought you were asleep. i heard snoring..."

"oh, your brother fell asleep five minutes into the movie, i couldn't stand his snoring so i brought him up to his room", he chuckled, you find yourself smiling at the sound.

you walk towards your stove, feeling a little intimidated as his gaze does not leave your body.

"you happy you graduated?" you ask, your back turned towards him as you set a pot of water onto the stove.

"hm, bittersweet feelings."

"why's that?" you furrow a brow, staring at the water in the pot, praying it would boil faster.

"js' wish i had done somethings while i was still in highschool... 'dunno"

you only hum, the thought of confessing digging itself to the top of your brain. was now a good time?

"yn?" you blink, turning you head in his direction. had you been in a trance for an embarrassing amount of time?

"think you could make me a pack too?" he gestures towards the singular pack of ramen sitting atop the counter. you tense for a moment before complying, turning to the pantry to retrieve another pack.

by the time you make your way back in front of the pot, the water is already boiling. you open both packets, dumping the noodles in and pulling the flavour packets out. turning the heat to medium, you still refuse to turn your body back towards gyuvin in fear.

now. right now is the best time.

"you thought about the university you want to go to once you graduate-"

"gyuvin i like you... it's bad."

taking his silence as a definite no, you try to blink away the tears the surface, eyes burning into the noodles that slowly softened in the water.

you think that he's found his escape, quietly going up the stairs while your back is still turned but you find your observation wrong. a gentle hand wraps around your wrist and beckons you to look at the culprit.

when you turn, you expect to find gyuvin looking at you with sincere apology. instead, you find a coy smile on his lips.

"what's so bad about that?" you look at his eyes in exasperation, searching for evidence of a joke- was he teasing you right now?

"you're my brothers best friend! not to mention you're moving away!"

"would you believe me if i told you that your brother knew about my crush on you?"

"what?!" gyuvin snickers before putting a finger to his lips, sure you were being adorable- but too loud at 1am.

he turns to turn the heat on the stove off before looking at you again, "and we've decided we're not moving... we both didn't get in so we're staying here to go to uni."

letting out a breath of relief, you still shook in your spot, "so you don't think it's weird that you're best friends with my brother and i'm his sister who has feelings for you?"

"what, is there some love handbook i don't know about?"

you can't help the light-hearted laugh that erupts from your throat at his sarcasm, "no... i guess there isn't."

"good, because not telling you i liked you before i graduated was my one and only regret..."

― PARK GUNWOOK.

↳ now playing: message in a bottle by taylor swift.

park gunwook was an admirable classmate of yours. he was bound to have admirers, he was class prez after all. his ranks were good and he is attractive- no denying that.

what is embarrasing however, is how you found yourself as one of those admirers.

it started off with simple notes of motivation. you only signed with an anagram. then, it turned into small gifts from the school store.

you revelled in the way he surveyed the room after each time he read a note from you, or the way he would ask his friends if the had seen someone set something on his desk.

however, you were diligent with being sneaky. you would only set something on his desk when the hallway and classroom were clear- it was usually during lunch or, if you got to the school too early, you would do it then.

what you weren't diligent with though, was estimating his intelligence.

arriving at the school late today, you rush into the classroom, praying that teacher was also running late. to your misfortune- he was not.

you stops you at the door, publicly announcing your arrival, making your rushed morning even worse before handing you a detention slip and dismissing you to your desk.

you set your bag down beside the desk chair and when you look up, a light pink sticky note tabbed to your desk catches your eye.

you frown before sitting down, grabbing the sticky note and fumbling to read it.

"thanks for the gifts yn- or should i say, my secret admirer. want to go to the convenience store with my at lunch? - p. gunwook" it read.

in surprise, you perk your head up and immediatley jerk your head into his direction. he was already looking back at you, a bashful smile on his face accompanied by a shy tilt of his head.

a goofy smile breaks through it restraints before you could stop it and you nod- suddenly your morning wasn't too bad.

― HAN YUJIN.

↳ now playing: enchanted by taylor swift.

han yujin did not think that the last thing that would be engraved in his mind after gunwook’s birthday party would be you.

you were gunwook’s childhood friend- sure he’d mentioned you every once in a while, but yujin had never truly met you.

he was glad that gunwook’s birthday party gave him that chance.

you were absolutely captivating- the way you looked in your formal yet casual attire, the way you lit up around the people you were close to, and the kindness you spread to everyone even if you didn’t know them.

yujin actually had the chance to talk to you, probably the main reason you had been lingering in his mind since he had left the gathering.

gunwook had pulled you over to finally introduce you to his friends. when you introduced yourself, he found out that you were actually from around here, just attending a different school.

the two of you actually hit it off pretty well, while gunwook and gyuvin were goofing on the dance floor, yujin and you just decided to sit and watch.

as he grew to know more about you; your school life, your friends, you rank in class, your hobbies and more, he couldn’t help the pit that grew in his stomach.

with everything that you do, you were bound to have someone interested in you- or have your interest lying on someone else, right?

little did yujin know that you were thinking just the same. it would be impossible to imply that yujin has never had an encounter with an admirer, let alone have his eye on someone.

when you two parted ways at the party, the longing to see eachother again had already started to set in. after a few bittersweet goodbyes, you two got into seperate cars and headed home.

as if the world heard both of your prayers, the next week, yujin was invited to hangout with gunwook and a few other friends- he could only hope that by “a few other friends” you would make an appearance.

and you did.

the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him gave him his answer. the only person you had been waiting for was him.

navi. mlist.

[violetmuses]

Safety Net - A. Aretas 🌴❤️‍🩹🫂

Title: Safety Net - A. Aretas 🌴 ❤️‍🩹 🫂

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: When Armando Aretas leaves Mexico and faces Miami again, you change his life.

@nelo0wesker @nobodygetsza @yeahnohoneybye @sofia-da-1st @spaceacelover @btitannaaaaa

=====

Safety Net: Chapter 1

2024

The quiet departure from Mexico took so much planning, but Armando Aretas returned to Miami at last. Hiding would just stall reality this time.

His biological father, well-known Detective Mike Lowrey, pulled strings and “eased” the lifetime sentence, but Armando just needed more.

Waiting around between missions seemed pointless. If not useful, Armando might as well go back to prison and lock that damn cell forever.

Taking one rental car back to the small apartment from Lowrey, Armando didn't contact his father right away and took this much-needed shower before organizing just a few belongings here.

“I'm back.” Armando called Lowrey by the early afternoon.

“Hey, man. Really? Do you want me to pick you up from the airport?” Mike was a little surprised while answering the phone.

“Nah. Already settled here, but I'm just telling you.” Armando cleared his throat awkwardly

“You found the house? Cool. Glad you called me, too. Need anything?” Even Mike clipped words at this point.

“Maybe a side hustle?” Armando tried to frame the question easily. “I don't wanna stay around if you'll just call for work.”

“Right, I didn't think of that idea. My bad.” Mike almost whispered. “Let's see if I can help out a little bit.”

“Yeah, bye.” Armando hung up and left once more, hoping to run errands.

____

Many ran straight to the grocery store for various reasons, but Armando didn't need much, unlike other folks with children and more vacation plans.

Leaving the self-checkout, warm sunlight hit the parking lot as Armando reached that car and settled items, but one person caught his eye.

One door opens from another storefront in the shopping center.

“Thank you so much!” You beamed toward restaurant staff while carrying takeout and kept walking in the direction of your own vehicle.

To Armando, you looked cute and raved as sunlight heats up the state of Florida.

Though watching you from a distance, Armando found himself smiling in return, but pulled together and drove away, simply refusing to act weird.

Who are you? Aretas ponders during the commute back.

_____

Cooking and eating alone, gentle music played from his Bluetooth speaker. The device stood as his most expensive item beyond weapons or gear.

One call interrupted washing the dishes, but Armando picked up regardless.

“Hello?” Armando greeted the caller.

“Hey, it's me. Got something. Do you mind if we meet early tomorrow?” Mike Lowrey picked up this call again.

“No. What's going on?” The day would have Aretas occupied.

“This barbershop owner needs help.” Mike explained. “You'll get paid for basic upkeep over there. Nothing fancy.”

“Doesn't sound terrible.” Armando grounded his plans for the morning.

“Fair enough. See you tomorrow.” Mike ended the call this time.

Better than nothing. Armando thought, sleeping without dreams in preparation.

_____

“What's up?” Cruising with style, Mike Lowrey arrived while driving his classic Porsche the next day and greeted Aretas in this lot. “We'll meet that owner first.”

“Cool.” Armando repeated the note of his estranged father.

“How was your flight?” Mike tried offering small talk.

“Good. Still getting used to the house.” Armando told the truth.

“You'll be fine.” Mike went on. “My first place wasn't always dope.”

“Wait. Didn't you grow up with money?” Aretas squinted near his father. “That's what Marcus told me.”

“Well, yeah, but your mother knocked out riches. I stood undercover and worked as her driver before you were born.” Mike cleared his throat. “Let's go.”

____

“Morning, Detective.” The barbershop owner spoke up while addressing Mike Lowrey.

“Morning, Sir.” Mike offered respect to the older gentleman. “We shared our phone calls earlier, but this is my son Armando.”

“Hello.” Genuinely kind while speaking English, Aretas offered to shake hands with the owner right now.

“Heard about you, but we don’t have much time for questions. Let me show you around.” The older man continued speaking. Even Mike Lowrey stepped back, letting this moment between two different people for once.

Let him grow and learn. That’s the only way out of this problem. Lowrey thought, quietly watching his son understand this new environment.

_____

For Armando, three important rules grounded his place at the barbershop:

Aretas needed to show up every day now, arrive on time, and avoid drama. Constant structure keeps this guy from trouble in the first place.

Clients for the barbershop varied all week and Armando would remain observant every time someone opened that chiming front door.

Sooner than later, staff knew his name and everyone laughed sometimes, offering Aretas this comradery that didn't include heartbreak.

“Have you met Mike's partner yet?” One employee chuckled while cleaning his station.

“Marcus?” Sweeping, Armando immediately rolled his eyes and workers cracked up about Detective Marcus Burnett, Mike Lowrey's famous partner.

“Oh, no! Tell us.” The employee settled down and resumed working.

“I joined special operations at the police department, but this barbershop thing is a temporary job.” Armando played up his role a little bit. “One time, Marcus accidentally set our car on fire.”

“Woah!” Voices gasped through shock and even the owner tuned in.

“Marcus didn't know that windshield wiper fluid is flammable, so we jumped out right before everything burst into flames.” Aretas nearly cringed.

“Damn!” This story just pulled everyone's attention.

“We made it out alive, but moments like that really happen.” Armando shook his head and still cleaned when the front door chimed again.

“Hi! How's everybody doing?” One greeting brightened up the entire space. “I'm just here to bring Dad some lunch.”

You walked toward that barbershop owner with the biggest smile on your face, carrying takeout.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Thank you.” The owner gently raved while facing you, his daughter.

[agyraty]

yandere kieran duffy maybe??

Of course!! Now I’m just going to warn you, I’ve never written Yandere once in my life, so I’m hoping this is good. I tried not to change him too much, keeping him as closely to his original character as possible despite the Yandere aspect.

———————————————————

That’s not Love

———————————————————

Kieran Duffy x Reader

Summary: Kieran calls it love, but you call it an unhealthy obsession.

———————————————————

From the moment the O'Driscoll boy caught sight of you while bound to a tree, he was captivated. Your sense of style, the assertive stance you took with folks like Micah, and the kindness you showed everyone, him included, all drew him in. The sway of your hips as you walked, and your gentle beauty, fascinated him; he found you intriguing and admirable.

He’s finally been allowed to walk freely around camp, doing as he pleased. And he always found himself staring at you, watching your every move. Soon, he found himself volunteering to help you during missions, or brush your horse, even help you with chores, just so he could get to closer to You.

After awhile, you and him became friends. You’d always find yourself sitting with him near the fire or during meals, and on almost all of the missions Dutch sends you on, he’s almost there with you, which you found a bit weird, but you pushed it off as Dutch wanting to get Kieran working.

It’s just became a normal thing, you’re always with the man. You even stand up for him when Bill, Javier, or Micah tease him about being an O’Driscol. Which was another reason he found himself so attracted to you.

Weeks turned into months, and Kieran’s obsession just grew even more. He began leaving anonymous Gifts in your tent every night. Things ranging from flowers, love letters, to jewelry and small trinkets.

You found it odd, having a secret admirer leave you stuff. You so desperately wanted to know who it was leaving you such gifts, and you looked at all the possibilities at camp. Never once did you suspect it to be Kieran.

At first, you tried to figure out who it was, asking the girls if they heard about anyone talking about it, or maybe even seen who it was.

But no body knew who your admirer was, so after awhile you just gave up, excepting all the kind gifts you got without thought. Obviously who ever was doing it didn’t have any bad intentions, right?

You’ve also noticed that a lot of the guys in the gang suddenly started to avoid you, Only speaking to you when they needed to.. it was strange.

—

Well today wasn’t to different from any other day, you walked around camp, did your chores, conversed with friends, and of course, spent time with Kieran.

Currently, Kieran was busy tending to his horse, so you sat by the fire by yourself, relaxing your aching muscles.

Kieran brushed his horse, tending to its muddy coat, gently scraping out the dirt. He watched you closely as he did so, his eyes never leaving your resting body. His eyes scanned your face, watching as the fire shined against you, its Orange and yellow light dancing along your fine features, illuminating your beauty.

Kieran snapped out of his thoughts once he saw Javier striding over to the camp fire, a charming smile on his face as he stopped just beside you.

You brought a hand up to rub your eyes gently, looking to the side. Suddenly, you heard the familiar voice of Javier call out your name.

“Hey.” He spoke softly, taking a seat on the dirt next to you. “Hi, Javier.” You turned your head to face him, a soft smile playing in your lips as you watched him get onto the ground.

He starts a conversation, his words flowing effortlessly, filled with anecdotes and questions that draw you in. His hand gestures add animation to his tales, and he listens to your responses with genuine interest, his eyes alight with amusement.

On the sidelines, Kieran's presence is like a silent shadow, his eyes never straying away from the duo. The sight of Javier's easy manner with You stirs a storm within Kieran, his emotions swirling like leaves in the wind. There's a sharp tug in his chest, a possessive instinct that he can't shake off.

He knew he shouldn’t be thinking this, considering you were his, and he wasn’t yours, but Every laugh shared between you two feels like a personal affront, as if Javier’s challenging him, like Javier’s trying to take away what belongs to him. His fingers clench into fists at his sides, the brush that was in his hand now dropped to the floor, the mirthful scene before him fueling a strange feeling of anger, of resentment. A bitter taste of jealousy resided on his tongue as he stands back, trapped in his own troubled thoughts.

He couldn’t help but think that it should be him over there, laughing with you, tlaking with you just like always, not Javier. Javier was getting to close to what was his. And Kieran didn’t take to kindly to that.

Kieran decides that he’s had enough, that he couldn’t stand by and watch anymore.

Kieran's beginge to walk over, every move he made was carefully calculated. His smile is a well-rehearsed curve of lips, not quite matching the mixture of angry feelings he felt deep down. "Javier, always the early bird, I see," Kieran offers with an airy chuckle that sounds more like a challenge than genuine humor.

Javier, unbothered by Kieran's presence, smirks and replies, "Just taking in the good company before the vultures swoop in." He spoke casually, but his words carry an edge to them, a subtle acknowledgment of the tension between them.

Kieran leans in closer, his voice a low purr meant only for Javier's ears. "You know, it's fascinating how you always seem to linger. But then again, some people are naturally drawn to the light, even if it burns." The insult is wrapped in velvet, but the threat is unmistakable. You stand there, eyes darting between the two men. You had no idea what was happening, nor what they were talking about.

Javier's response is quick, his ‘Friendly’ smile never faltering. "And some are too busy casting shadows to recognize when they're standing in someone else's sun." The air between them is tense as they try to play off their obvious disdain for each other, each man marking his territory with words as sharp as knives.

The back-and-forth continues, Kieran's jokes becoming more pointed, his patience wearing as thin as the veneer of civility that coats them. Then, a particularly barbed comment from Javier pierces through Kieran's armor, hitting a raw nerve.

Kieran's laughter dies down and his expression darkens, the atmosphere quickly changed. "You think you're clever, don't you? Let's see how witty you are when you're the one being laughed at.” Kieran hisses, the mask of friendliness slipping to reveal a bit of what he was truly feeling.

You quickly looked over at Kieran, his sudden outburst shocking you. He’d never spoken to anyone like that before, he normally acted all timid and scared, but now.. he seemed completely unfazed, the expression on his face dark and intimidating.

The change in Kieran was startling, like witnessing a shadow come to life. His usual shyness was long gone, replaced by a steely resolve that seems alien on his normally gentle features. The atmosphere tensed even further, as if the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for what Kieran will do next.

You can't help but feel slightly uneasy, watching this new side of him emerge. It's as if he's shed his meek exterior to reveal something much more dark beneath. His eyes, once filled with hesitation, now burn with a cold fire, and his posture is straight and rigid, every muscle tense and coiled like a spring.

"Is everything okay, Kieran?" you ask, voice slightly caseous, the concern evident in your voice. You're trying to reach the friend you know, the one who's always been more keen on retreating from conflict rather than causing it.

Kieran's gaze quickly lands on you, and for a seocnd, you see the flicker of the normal Kieran that you know, the vulnerability returning in the depths of his eyes. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, his expression hardening once more. "I'm fine," he says, though his tone suggests anything but that. “Just tired of playing the part of the harmless one, that's all."

Your eyes widen slightly. Playing the part? What does he mean playing the part? Has he.. has he been faking his personality this whole time? Your gaze remains on his body as you watch him closely, And you notice how everything about him has changed. He’s standing meow straight up and assertive, rather than his slightly hunched and shy posture. His face is more hard unlike his normal gentle expression. And the way he speaks, is so much more different.

The mere thought of it sends your mind spinning. The Kieran before you is like a puzzle with pieces that don't fit the image you've always known. It's slightly unsettling, the idea that he might have been wearing a mask all this time. His new demeanor is like a rude awakening – assertive, confident, almost a stranger compared to his old personality.

"Kieran, what do you mean?” Your question is gentle but probing, an attempt to peel back the layers of this sudden change. You're reaching out for answers, you need to get to the bottom of this.

Kieran's gaze flickers past and lands on Javier with a dismissive sneer. "Why don't you go bother someone else, Javier?" he snaps abruptly, his voice carrying a sharp and cold tone. The unexpected harshness in his tone seems to cut through the air, and with an annoyed look, Javier turns on his heel, walking away without another word.

With Javier gone, Kieran's attention shifts back to you, his posture relaxing slightly, but his expression remains intense. He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours for any type of reaction. "I'm sorry about that, but I couldn't stand it anymore," he begins, his voice softer now, but laced with a slight desperate tone, maybe even crazed. "I've been trying to keep this to myself, but it's driving me crazy. I'm in love with you. I'm the one who's been leaving you those little gifts you find, hoping they'd bring a smile to your face."

He takes a deep breath, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if grappling with the weight of his confession. "And it's been me, joining you on those missions without even asking Dutch. I wanted to be there to protect you, to be close to you. I've been... I've been scaring off any guy that gets too close because the thought of someone else being with you—it's unbearable. That’s why people haven’t been speaking to you so much lately, but that’s a good thing. That’s how it should be.”

The expression kn his face was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It was almost crazed, desperate. If you were being honest, it scared you.

“.. And that’s the way it should be.”

You looked back at him as he said that. “What..?” You whispered, shock present in both your tone and present on your face.

“I’m the only one that you need, I’m the only one that deserves to talk to you.” He stepped closer, looming over you with an unreadable facial expression. You stumble back, trying to keep some space between the two of you.

Your brows were knitted together tightly as you tried to wrap your mind around what he was saying.

“Why can’t you see that this isn’t bad? That I’m what you need, and no one else?” He reached out to grab your hands in his, but you quickly swatted them away. “Don’t touch me.”

Your heart hammered against your chest, a mixture of fear and disbelief coursing through your veins. "You can't just decide what I need, Kieran," you said, your voice firm despite the slight tremble running through your body. "You can't force someone to want you or to be with you."

He looked taken aback, as if your resistance was something he hadn't anticipated, as if he excepted you to just be okay with this whole thing. “But I love you," he insisted, his voice softening. "I've done everything for you. Can't you see that?"

"You're talking about love, but what you're doing isn't love at all," you countered, finding the strength to finally counter his response.. "Love is about respect and choice, Kieran. You can't protect me from the world, just like can't lock me away from it either."

"I need some time to think about all of this..”

As you turned to walk away, You hoped that when you faced each other again, it would be with a new understanding and a healthier perspective on what it really means to care for someone.

———————————————————