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yourlocallunatic · 3 months ago

Note

I desperately need more Ridoc teasing and in control. That was one of the best smutty fics I’ve read in a long time

Payback

Ricoc Gamlyn x Fem!reader 18+

summary: Ridoc loves to tease you and flirt with you, sometimes it might go a little too far. So you decide to show him what it feels like. He doesn't take it as well as you thought...(Follows Fourth Wing plot, before anything bad happens, I love the peace lol)

warnings: Smuuuutt! piv sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) improper use of signets, dom!Ridoc, brat tamer!Ridoc, itty bit of praise & degradation kink. lots of dirty talk too many feeling (I couldn't help it, I love love)

wordcount: 6.9K (lol)

notes: thanks for the request and love! I could not get the scene from OS were Ridoc and Vi are arguing and she says how ice starts forming at his fingers when he's getting angry out of my head. I just had to include it. Can't stop thinking about Ridoc and his cold ass hands (might need to dedicate a whole post to it lmk if you'd wanna see that)

You were friends Ridoc. Just friends. Nothing more. He was a rider, you were a rider, you had your squad, your section leaders, your wingleaders. Everything was normal and as it should be.

Until it wasn't.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened or what exactly Ridoc had said to make you want to get back at him.

Maybe it was the day he'd called you beautiful right after you'd fallen in the river during flight maneuvers. Your dragon had plucked you out of the water and returned to the flight field where everyone else was, your clothes were sopping wet, and drops of water slid over your face. The rest of your squad was laughing at you (like the annoying friends that they were) even Ridoc laughed. But that was before he wiped a drop of water off the tip of your nose and spoke in a low and somewhat sultry voice.

"You're so beautiful when you're wet..." your face had heated at his words, not understanding exactly his lewd implications until he continued. "Wonder what else gets you that wet..." You'd pushed him away and screamed at him, scolding him for talking like a pervert. Rhiannon was not far behind in lecturing him.

Or maybe it was the full week he refused to call you anything other than princess. He regularly used the pet name in a way that made your heart flutter. But he was your friend and that's just what Ridoc did to his friends—tease. He'd still use the nickname with you on occasion, but only when he really wanted to annoy you.

Perhaps it was once he developed his signet and realized he could use it to absolutely annoy the shit out of you and your whole squad. He had started by wrapping his fingers around Violet's hot mug of tea when she wasn't looking and freezing it solid. Next, he woke up before Sawyer and froze his door shut, resulting in him being late to formation. But the kicker was when Ridoc discovered that he could dramatically cool his body temperature and even form frost on his fingertips. So in the moments you'd least expect it he would lightly drag his fingertips along you, the cold shocking you to your bone. At breakfast, during formation, he even went too far one time to grasp your upper thigh during battle brief. The chill ran all the way up your spine to the base of your skull, the contrast of the cool of his fingers and the heat so close to your center drove you crazy. You yelped at the feeling and disrupted the whole class, which caused Ridoc to burst out laughing.

No, no, it had to be the time when he straight up asked to sleep with you. That must've been what made you decide to get your revenge.

Violet had been complaining about how she missed sex and Liam offered to find some candidates for her. Ridoc decided to throw his name in the ring, saying he'd be happy to oblige her at any time.

"There’s no way Liam would pick you for Violet out of a lineup," Rhi chimed in, "He has good taste."

"Seriously, I need Liam to find someone for me. I miss sex too..." you joked, adding to the conversation.

"Well princess, like I told Violet, I'd be happy to help out," Ridoc said, leaning over next to you and messing with your hair. He was always flirty with his friends, that's just what he did, but honestly, it was getting too much.

"No thanks, I'll pass," you chuckled lightly as you tried to calm your racing heart.

"C'mon pleaseee," he all but begged you. You rolled your eyes at him in answer—a regular one of your responses to his antics—but he didn't accept it. The fingers that were messing with your hair found their way to the back of your neck and a steady flow of coldness jolted you in your seat. He leaned his head in closer before speaking once more, "You know I'll make you feel incredible sweetness, can I please just spend one night with you?" His cold fingers gripping the back of your neck and his warm breath on your face...holy Dunne...you knew Ridoc was hot but would today be the day you confessed your feelings?

Before you could asses the waves of arousal flowing through you and decide if you wanted to kiss him or not, Ridoc burst out laughing and removed his hand from you.

"I totally got you that time!" He held a hand to his chest as he caught his breath and you finally came to your senses.

"Fuck you, Gamlyn!" you cry and lay your head on the table in embarrassment.

"What happened?!" Sawyer asked from the other side of you. You groan in response curling further into yourself.

"I fully just turned her on, dude! Right before Physics too!" At this point tears were streaming out of his eyes from laughter

"Aw, Ridoc, ew! Don't be such a perv!" Rhiannon scolded him. Your face was still tucked in your arms on the desk.

"But she liked it," he said in a sing-song tone, his laughter finally subsiding. No. That's it. Ridoc was a fucking relentless, teasing, asshole of a flirt and he had to get a taste of his own medicine. You swing your face up from the table, the redness on it surely not gone yet, but it is about time someone said something to him.

"You better watch your back Ridoc," you snap, pointing your finger and digging it into his chest, "I'm gonna make sure you get what's coming for you."

"Ooo feisty, huh? We'll see about that, Princess."

And thus—the game began.

The first week you started simple, just as he had. You'd woken up in a particularly good mood as you knew that was the day you were going to turn the tables on Ridoc. You made your way to the dining hall in the morning and sat where you normally did with your squad and waited...Ridoc was always late in the mornings, he was a night owl and was regularly in other people's rooms. Not that it bothered you…no, you weren't jealous. No. Of course not. Nope. But surprisingly he was somewhat on-time that morning and his floppy brown hair fell over his forehead in the perfect messy way it always did. You kept your eyes on him as he made his way through the food line and to your table, completely disregarding your breakfast in front of you.

"What are you planning?" Violet asked through her mouthful of food, eyeing you suspiciously. You kept your gaze, not even breaking it to respond to your friend.

"You'll see," you smirked.

As he approached closer you scooched over, creating a spot at the table for Ricoc, and patted the bench in earnest. And waited again. You knew he would make a comment.

"Hm, someone's excited to see me this morning," There it is. He walked right into your trap.

"I can't help it..." You sigh, doing your best to sound sincere (though, it wasn't difficult to be sincere with him)

"Hmph?" he groans in response, mouth full of food.

"You just look sooo handsome this morning, want you next to me," you rest your cheek on one hand that's propped up by your elbow, and the other hand reaches out and slowly twists in his dark locks. You gaze at him, watching him closely in anticipation. His eyes shift looking between your own, looking for something. Gods...his eyes, so warm, so full of light. You want to get lost in them, in the joy they hold, in the stubbornness and fearlessness, and fuck. He was starting to laugh.

"W-what?" you stutter, retracting your hand from his hair.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetness," the smile never leaves his lips as he digs into his breakfast.

"AHH," you grumble and stand from your seat. How the fuck did he win this one? You storm out of the dining hall, immediately starting your next plan.

"What in Malek's name did I just watch?" You hear Rhiannon's voice fade out as you leave.

The second week, you stepped up your game. Big time. If you couldn't flatter him you would flatter yourself. It was Tuesday night, squad hand-to-hand practice. Your normal training clothes weren't very favorable for your figure, you normally stuck to the standard issue training pants and boots and a plain long-sleeved top, but it was spring now, the weather was warmer, and no one would question your change in attire. So you changed. You wore the smallest and tightest of your training tanks, one from before you gained muscle as a rider, and at the very bottom of your armoire, you found your old tights. They were meant for training so it wasn't anything scandalous, you'd just outgrown them. But because of the tightness of the leggings, you did have to forego your undergarments to avoid any panty lines.

"Damn, girl. What's all this about?" Rhi asked you as you two and Violet made your way to the training room. You tugged on the straps of your tank to ensure your breasts stayed in place. Yeah, very tight.

"It's...hot out," you respond, not at all convincing them.

"Is this about you trying to get Ridoc back for getting you all hot and bothered before Physics a couple of weeks ago?" Violet speaks up, amusement imminent in her voice.

"He did not get me 'hot and bothered'" you defend yourself, "just...a little turned on. He just won't stop teasing, just trying to show him how it feels!" you continue your defense.

"This is seduction. Not teasing," Rhiannon says. Whatever. Is that not what Ridoc was doing to you? You just roll your eyes and continue into the training room, eyes immediately seeking out Ridoc. You find him on the mat, sparring with Sawyer. The fight was pretty evenly matched, Sawyer had a little height on Ridoc, but Ridoc had a little more bulk on him. Fuck, those muscles, straining the sleeves of his shirt. You shook your head and cleared your thoughts moving closer to the mat. You walk right up to the edge of it and cross your arms, subtly pushing your breasts up and closer together.

"Looking good boys," You say, gaining their attention, hoping you could draw Ridoc's away just long enough for Sawyer to get the high ground. Unfortunately, you overestimated Sawyer's ability to keep his eyes where they need to be.

"Woah." Sawyer sighed lightly under his breath. You rolled your eyes at him and looked for a reaction from Ridoc. He just looked you up and down slowly before tackling Sawyer to the ground. Seriously?

Sawyer just bumped down a notch on the friend poll.

The boys finish their match quickly, Ridoc taking the win after Sawyer lost his focus, and exit the mat. You stay at the edge waiting for Ridoc to pass you and acknowledge you in some way other than giving you a once-over. He saunters over slowly, a light sweat glistening his forehead and leans down right to your level before speaking.

"You look good too, princess," your face heats and your heart beats faster at the excitement of your victory over him. Until he keeps talking. "But...I've already imagined your body enough times to not be surprised at how good you look." You don't know if it's anger or arousal that's causing wetness to pool at your core, all you know is that he's won. Yet again.

That same night you tried again and failed. You thought maybe sparring with him and getting your bodies closer would get him going, but it proved the opposite. You'd ended up underneath him, heat coursing through your veins. However, you could've sworn you felt something poking at your lower stomach, maybe it was just false hope.

By the third week, you knew you'd have to come up with something really good. But you didn't. You tried to search for something that you could do to get back at him, but everything you came up with was either not good enough or too good, to the point where you think it would just backfire and you'd end up turned on again.

It was a Friday and all your friends decided it was time for a much-needed study night—aided by some alcohol. You walked into Sawyer's room defeated, still not have come up with anything good enough to tease Ridoc with. The room was full, Sawyer laid sprawled across his bed with Violet sitting at the foot of it, Rhiannon and Liam lay on the floor with their texts open in front of them, then there was Ridoc. He sat on the chair at Sawyer's desk, facing your friends and ignoring the books on the desk, his legs were spread wide and his hands were crossed behind his head. He smirked as you walked through the door and looked around for a place to settle down.

Your eyes crossed the room and landed on Ridoc, your gaze lingers on him for maybe a moment too long, but that one moment was enough for a stupid thought to enter your brain. Hopefully, stupid enough to work.

You throw your bag and jacket on the ground and step over the books laid on the ground, making your way to Ridoc. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it quickly when you plopped right down in his lap. He was stunned silent for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him to settle you into his embrace.

"Oh? Go right ahead I suppose," He says cockily, but you catch the hint of confusion in his voice.

"What? There was nowhere else to sit," you feign your confidence and try to ignore the feeling of Ridoc's arm around you.

"I would have gladly moved to avoid whatever this is..." Rhiannon says from the ground in disgust. You ignore her comment and begin a conversation with Liam, trying your best to pretend you weren't sitting in Ridoc's lap. But once you got a drink in you, and a little more, it became very difficult to ignore. That was when you had your next bright idea.

Violet was talking about her issues with Riorson and you nodded along as she droned on with her complaints, your brain was a little fuzzy and you were growing bored of her repeating the same thing. After a while your body had relaxed perfectly into Ridoc's and as the conversation flowed your body relaxed even more and the little thought wormed it's way into your brain. You didn't think about the implications of your actions before you wiggled your ass and slowly ground down on his lap. His grip tightened around you waist, a warning maybe?

You waited for his arm to loosen around you before you made your next move, letting the conversation around you continue you once more ground your hips down onto his lap, doing your best to make it look like you were just adjusting. His grip tightened again, and this time you felt his cock begin to harden underneath you. You were winning this time.

You don't wait this time before moving again, fidgeting in your seat as you hear Liam trying to defend Riorson in the background. Ridoc didn't let up on his hold on you, this time wrapping his other arm around your waist and digging his fingers in deeper. He grunts lowly behind you as you grind your ass harder down onto him. The harder you go the harder his fingers on your waist grab and his bruising grasp suddenly grows cold as he grows harder. Oh fuck.

"This the game you want to play?" His voice was right next to your ear, his hot breath causing a chill to run through you. You can't stop, not now, you were so close to winning this. But his voice. And his arms around you. And his cold fingers. No. You turn your head a little to the side, your lips so close to his as you respond.

"Hm, I'm just giving you what you deserve."

"Yeah? Okay, princess. We'll play that way then," His words were low and gravelly, filled with arousal. You nearly moaned out loud. But he was fast. Only a second later he shoved you from his lap, you stumbled to stand as the conversation around you died down. You swing your head to look at him and ask him why the fuck he just did that but he had already gathered his things and was halfway out the door, mumbling a quick "Gotta go." and leaving you speechless.

"What's up with him?" Rhi asks, sending a questioning look your way. Your astonishment slowly turned to a feeling of pride and a small smile appeared on your face.

"Let's just say I finally got him back," you smirk and move back to the chair where he sat, the seat still warm.

That's what you thought at least.

Another week passed and you were confident you had gotten your revenge on Ridoc. He hadn't said anything about the incident, leading you to believe that he was just embarrassed. Oh how wrong you were.

It was late, the hallways dark, only lit by a mage light or two. You couldn't sleep so attempted to make your way to the flight field for a late-night flight. But you didn't make it very far before you were slammed face-forward against the wall. You tried to reach for the daggers on your belt but the assailant already had your wrists in their grasp. Your breathing picked up, a slight cry crawling its way out of your mouth in fear and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Over the sound of the blood rushing through your head, you heard a slight shushing behind you, and warm breath on your face. Your senses came back to you and you felt the freezing cold hands on your wrists. Ridoc.

"Shh, shh, just me, sweetness," his voice was still teasing despite the immense fear you just showed. Your body relaxed instantly, slumping against the wall and letting his arms hold you up.

"Gods, Ridoc!" you keep your voice low, still aware that it's very late at night. "What the fuck are you doing?!" He hums in response, foregoing verbally answering your question. His face was still close to yours and he inhaled deeply before burying his face in your neck. "Ridoc, wha—oh..." A breathy sigh leaves you when you feel his hot tongue trace down your neck.

Shivers ran down your arms, covering you in gooseflesh as you melted even further into the wall. His hands move from your wrists and run all the way up your arms then back down to your waist, all while his tongue keeps moving. His cold touch finds its way to the hem of your shirt and slowly moves it up, his fingers glide across your the expanse of your stomach your body practically vibrating at the feeling. His mouth moved on your neck slowly and you didn't expect it when he bit down lightly.

"Ah! Fuck," you groan at the feeling, your panties surely soaked through at this point. Ridoc chuckles out a light, melodic laugh and leisurely withdraws his face.

"You like that?" He breathes out. Your brain was so foggy with arousal you didn't even think before responding.

"Mmm, yes," you crane your neck, reaching for his mouth with your but he retracts further, his hands falling from you, leaving your body colder than it was with his frozen fingers against you. He backs away even more as you turn around, his back almost against the opposite wall of the hallway. "Ridoc?" you sounded pathetic, you were sure of it.

"What, princess? I thought this is what you wanted to play now?" His voice was so gods-damned cocky. A wave of disappointment ran through you as he walked further away and down the hallway. Away from you in all your desperation. "Don't look so sad," he call out to you in a mock pout, "you'll get what you want eventually." Fuck. Him.

You withheld from your nighttime flight and instead made your way back to your room in haste. Stripping your pants off and laying on your bed as soon as you shut the door. You may be pissed at him, but he was still ridiculously hot and turned you on to no end. You rub your clit in furious circles, coming to your peak quickly and moaning out Ridoc's name. Well, you'd get back at him twice as hard.

The next day at breakfast you leave your food untouched, your thoughts running too fast for your sleep-deprived brain.

"Hmm...someone's sleepy," Ridoc says as he settles onto the bench next to you, far too close for comfort. "Wanna talk about what's keeping you up?" he asks knowingly.

"Not particularly," you snap back.

"Was it a guy? Or a girl? Finally find someone worth sleeping with?" He continues his teasing. Your first reaction is to be annoyed, you roll your eyes in response, but you still have a little confidence left.

"Yeah, actually," you answer him, sitting up in your seat straighter and scooting just a tad closer to him.

"What?" you could've sworn he sounded a little hurt.

"Mhm. He keeps walking around me though, just wish he would fuck me already, had to take care of myself last night," he coughs lightly and looks down at his plate, you take his moment of shyness as an opportunity and slide your hand over his thigh, moving it up slowly to where his cock started to harden. But that moment doesn't last long.

"Yeah? Maybe it's cause he's trying to teach you a lesson for being such a brat," his tone grows darker the further up his leg you get and you can't help the flush that seems to go through your body at the thought of him getting hard for you.

"Well, maybe he wouldn't have to teach me a lesson if he wasn't a brat first," you make your move in sync with your last word, cupping his hard cock with your hand. It was a step up from what he'd done to you last night. A really big step. Fuck, he was thick, you did what you could to fully grasp him from the confines of his pants but it was difficult with how large he was.

Ridoc wasn't taking any of your shit, he grabbed your wrist and moved it away from his center then pulled to bring you closer to him.

"You're gonna regret that, sweetness," How did he manage to sound so teasing and so sexy at the same time? "You thought last night was bad? I'll have you on your knees begging for me next time," Your body stills at his words, you've exhausted all your courage and were left in front of him defenseless. He stares into your eyes as your body begins to tremble with need. He managed to get to you every single time, but at least this time you'd known for sure that you were also getting to him.

"Will you guys please just shut up and fuck already?" Rhiannon finally shouts, slamming her cutlery down on the table. "It's making me fucking sick."

"Sorry, Rhi," Ridoc pushes away from you, easily masking his emotions while you still sit in agony. "Not my fault," that breaks you from your trance.

"Not your fault? I–I'm not–"

"Save it, princess," He shuts you up way to easily, standing swiftly and exiting the dining hall. Your head falls to the table in defeat and embarrassment.

"You two are seriously disgusting," Liam speaks up. "And that's saying something." You groan in response, whining at the teasing from your friends. But even through your embarrassment you couldn't get Ridoc's words out of your head and you tried to push the thought of begging on your knees for him out of your head.

Over the next few days, you did your best to avoid Ridoc. Not that you didn't want to see him—it was the opposite really—you just weren't sure if you could handle any more teasing (seduction) from him before breaking. He'd caught your eye a couple of times a subtle twinkle in them every time, paired with a smirk on his face. That alone was enough for you to want to get on your knees for him.

It was exactly five days later when he came back to you to fulfill his promise. Five agonizing days without speaking to Ridoc. You tried to convince yourself that it was just because he was turning you on, but you knew the truth. You knew it was because you had real feelings for him, and you were afraid he didn't return them.

You'd just finished training for the day and were ready to crash for the night, your back sore and arms tired from holding out against Imogen. You closed the door to your room behind you and lay on the floor to stretch your stiff muscles. You hadn't even been alone for a minute before your door burst open and shut again in quick succession.

"Ridoc?" he rotates his wrist slightly and you hear the lock on your door click behind you and he locks it with lesser magic—something you still haven't mastered. He stalks over to where you are on the ground, your body propped up by just your elbows and before you know it he's on top of you. Kissing you. Hard.

Your arms give out beneath you but Ridoc is there, wrapping his arms around you and holding you up.

"Couldn't—mph—wait another fucking minute," he grunts out as you begin to return his kisses, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. His words. His mouth on yours...you could've sworn you'd reached the afterlife and Zihnal had favored you. You keep kissing him in earnest, not caring that he decided right now to give in for whatever reason. What did make him give in right now?

"W–wait, why now?" You try to push him away gently but he resists trailing kisses down the side of your neck. He mumbles between them, something unintelligible, you push him harder "Ridoc, can't hear you." he gives into you and pulls away slightly to speak clearly.

"I said, you're wearing that fucking shirt again," you look down and it clicks in your head, this was the tiny training tank that you wore that one day to tease him. And you had worn it again for training that night, not even thinking it would do anything to him after the first time.

"Oh so you just saw my tits and couldn't hold back," you taunt. He does not take to your teasing well and grabs your face with one hand, his cold fingers squishing your cheeks together.

"Don't forget what you did the other day, sweetness. I'm not going back on my word," You feel your body being to submit to him, but you still want to push him a little further, you weren't quite done with your game yet.

"Hm, want me on my knees?" you question, craning your neck to try to capture his lips again. He ignores you and stands, walking to the door.

"Fine, I'll leave."

"No! No, stay! Please, Ridoc," you scramble up from the ground, not quite making it to your feet as your pleading begins. This can't happen again, he can't leave you to take care of yourself once more. You could've been begging for life itself with Malek with the way you felt.

"Seriously? All it took was three words and you're doing exactly what I want you to," he turns from where he stands by the door and looks down at you pathetically. There you were. On your knees. Begging him.

You honestly couldn't care at this point that you'd given up completely on your goal to tease him back. You needed him. Just as you needed air to breathe. You'd surely regret your actions tomorrow but there was no way you could wait any longer.

"I give up, okay! I just need you to touch me, please..."

"Think you're gonna get away with it that easy? After all your teasing..." he tsks and walks closer to you, moving his hands to his hips to unbuckle his belt. Your mouth waters at the prospect of his cock in your mouth. You reach your hands out impatiently to take over the job of removing his belt, but right when you get there he slaps your hands away. "No hands. You're gonna take what I give you, princess." you nod in understanding, opting to behave and listen to him so he doesn't threaten to leave again.

He removes his belt and undoes the button on his pants, sliding them and his boxers down just enough to pull his leaking cock out. You'd felt it the other day, yes, but seeing it was something else. If your mouth was watering at the thought, you're sure you started drooling at the sight. He pumps himself a couple of times, spreading the wetness at the tip with his thumb before he sticks his hand out in front of you, mumbling out a "Spit." you listen, spitting in his hand and letting the excess drool fall down your chin as you look up at him through your lashes. He continued to touch himself a little longer before you realized what he was doing. He was waiting for you to ask for it.

"Ridoc, please...can I please?" you ask as soon as you realize what's going on. You notice him drawing in a deep breath to keep control before he answers you.

"Please what?"

"Ridoc! I asked nicely," You pout and start to bring your hands up again before deciding otherwise, knowing you'd get in trouble.

"Yes, you did. But I want to hear you say it," You could tell he was having a hard time holding himself together and you were too, so you gave in.

"Wanna suck your cock, please—" You couldn't even finish before he grasped your jaw again and opened your mouth up, shoving his thick cock inside. You choke at first but quickly adjust and start to get to work.

"Good girl, see what happens when you obey?" his words shoot straight to your pussy, his praise making you even slicker.

"M–phm," you agree, your response muffled. He moves slowly, but you know it's more for his sake of not finishing too soon than it is for your sake of not choking again. He fucks into your mouth and you bob your head in rhythm, soothing the underside of his cock with your tongue. He tasted amazing, better than you imagined when you touched yourself.

"So good, princess," he groans and wraps his fingers in your hair and pulls your head off him, your lips leaving him with a pop. Drool streams down your chin, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. You try to move forward again but his hand in your hair holds you back. "You're not done behaving are you?"

"No, no, I'll behave," you answer with a shake of your head.

"Good. Take your clothes off and sit on the bed." You move quickly, not wanting to spend another second without his hands on you. You remove your shirt first while kicking off your boots, then make quick work of your pants and lean back to sit on the edge of your bed. You cross your legs at the ankle and swing them back and forth, impatiently waiting for Ridoc as get walks closer to you. He reaches his hand out and plucks at the thin strap of your bra. "All of your clothes," he says sternly. You grow slightly nervous to be completely naked in front of him with him being mostly clothed.

"But—" your words are cut off with only a hard look from him. You stand again and reach around you to pull your bra off. Ridoc's grip on his cock visibly tightens as your tits bounce free. You keep your eyes on him and lean down, taking your panties off and dangling them in front of his face before dropping them to the ground with the rest of your clothes. "Happy now?" you snark, though still keeping the smile on your face to show him you would keep behaving.

"Very," he sighs before pouncing on you. He captures your mouth with his lips again, licking into your mouth to wind your tongues together. His fingers ran over your body deftly, the light touches driving you mad. But his fingertips grew colder, they were literally ice against you and you whine at the feeling.

He was losing control, he wasn't able to keep his signet in check.

He didn't acknowledge his signet taking hold, instead, he broke away from your kiss momentarily to remove his shirt and shove down his pants even more. You reach out to touch him, disregarding anything he might have to say about it. Thankfully he seems too lost in his mind to bother with it, so you run your hands along his body your fingers feeling their way across his muscular back, and pull him closer to you.

Fully undressed now, Ridoc glides his hands further down your body as he continues to kiss you deeply, your own hands tangled in his hair. He clutches your hips hard and moves one hand to your aching cunt then drags his fingers through achingly slow.

"Ridoc! 'S too cold!" you gasp at the feeling of his frozen fingers at your core. But he ignores your complaint and keeps moving his fingers through your slick.

"So fucking wet," he moves his head away from your mouth, leaning back to admire your pussy. "You're dripping, sweetness, did you get this wet just from sucking my cock?" You nod your head in response. "Yeah? You've been wanting this for a long time, huh?

"Please, need more."

"More? I gave you my cock...I'm touching your pussy...what more could you want?" You groan in annoyance at the fact he's making you beg more.

"Ridoc, please! Want you to fuck me, please, I've waited so long..." You cry out pitifully, his fingers still fondling your center.

"Yes, you have, but you were acting like a slut," He plunges two of his fingers deep inside of you, curling them upwards to give you the friction you needed, sinful moans flew from your mouth. "If you just asked me to fuck you I would have, princess."

Despite his dominating tone, the last of his words held a sweetness to them, you knew that if you truly did ask him, he would've done anything for you. But instead there you were, begging him to fuck you while his ice-cold fingers did the job his dick should be doing.

"Ridoc, I need you, please, I need your cock inside me, I'm sorry for teasing! Just please, fuck me!" Your voice was desperate, embarrassingly so. But he wanted you begging and he got it. Seeming satisfied with the job you were doing he pulled his fingers out and stuck them in his mouth, licking them with a tantalizing look on his face and a deep guttural groan.

"There it is," he says as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, "just needed to say sorry, princess, that's it. Good job, I'll fuck you now, don't worry." His voice sounded sweet, but there was a darkness masked underneath it. If you didn't trust Ridoc so much you might've been worried about what was in store for you, but you knew he'd never hurt you.

He grabs a hold of your hips again and pulls you right to the edge of the bed before rolling you onto your front and pulling your ass up. Then, before you know it you're filled to the brim with his thick cock.

"Ah, fuck!" you shout. Pleasure coursed through your entire body, your brain fuddled in ecstasy. Ridoc leaned forward, pushing his cock into you impossibly deeper in the process, and craned his head right down to where your face was smooshed on the bed.

"Tell me if it gets too much and I'll stop, okay, sweetness?"

"Mhm," you answer, too lost in the moment to give a real response.

"No, not gonna cut it, use your words," He didn't move, refusing to do so until you listened.

"I'll tell you, promise," you utter.

"That's it, who knew the slut could be such a good girl?" His tone regaining it's cockiness. He started fucking into you slowly after answering, but his pace picked up fast, very fast.

You felt like you were being completed, his cock fitting you perfectly, rutting deep against your cervix as his fingers bit harshly into your hips, pulling you back against him in deep motions. You covered your mouth with your hand, doing your best to contain how loud you were being.

"Gods, you feel so good, princess. Like you were fucking made for me," you moan into your hand at his words, just the thought of you being made for him, being the one for him, had you keening. Wishing you were the only thing he would ever touch again, the only being he would even taste again, touch again, breathe again.

Your sorrowful thoughts didn't last very long, the feeling of him surrounding you taking over. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

"I love you."

You blanch. Afraid of what you'd just said. You go to slap your hand over your mouth, wait. Your mouth was already covered by your hand. You didn't say that. Ridoc did.

You revel in the joy, the splendor, the indulgence of the words. But also the feeling of him fucking you so deep and hard. It was all too much too fast. Your climax approaches fast, not giving you any time to prepare before you're coming all over his cock, tears break free from their walls, flowing down your face in rivulets. You squeeze hard around his cock as you orgasm and his pace falters.

He pulls out after your cunt stops pulsing and strokes his dick a few more times before he's spilling his seed across your ass, saying a string of curses as he does so.

Your body falls lax against your bed and you feel Ridoc wiping himself off of you with soft fabric and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up to lay the right way up on the bed. He adjusts so he lays first, dragging you to lay your head on his chest. He loves you.

"There we go, c'mere swee—" He sits up quickly, your head rolling off of him as he shoots forward, hands moving to your hips with soft touches "Oh, oh fuck—oh my gods I'm sorry, princess. I'm so fucking sorry, I—I didn't mean to." You tilt your head and look to where his hands barely graze your hips, there your skin is frostbitten into the shapes of his perfect fingertips. Your mind whirs and you look at his face, worry etched over it so clearly. His eyes swim with tears. He loves you.

"Did you mean it?"

"NO! Gods, I'd never...I think I just lost control and—and I can't even tell you how sorry I am princess, gods I can't—" his lip trembles and he moves his hands away from you to run them through his hair.

"Ridoc, no. Do you love me?" you reach to take hold of his face, turning him so he's looking you dead in the eye. The tears don't fall from his eyes and they soften, his body relaxing as he sees the look that has so obviously been on your face for so long.

"More than anything..." He melts into your hold, the affection such a drastic change from him just a few minutes ago. You don't let him say anything else before you move in on him, locking your lips together again. The kiss wasn't as desperate as your ones from earlier, but just as passionate.

"I love you. I have for a while I think..." your voice draws off as you think back to how you acted toward him. "Sorry for being so bratty...just wanted to tease you back to show you how it felt." His gaze switches from a loving look to one of amusement before he tosses his head back in laughter.

"It's okay, sweetness, can't you tell that I like a little bit of excitement?" you giggle along with him.

"Yeah, I guess..." you say, still a little nervous.

"Gods, you're so fucking hot, can't tell you how hard it was to hold myself back from you for so long." You smile, confidence flooding back through you.

"Hm, good to know." You push him back onto the bed to lie again before you crawl into his arms. The place you'd so long desired to be in. You glance down at your bodies entwined together, like roots that grew into each other. His hand still absentmindedly tracing around your lightly frostbitten hips. The marks didn't hurt too much, just enough to remind you he'd been there. You still loved his cold hands.

#ridoc gamlyn smut #fourth wing smut #ridoc gamlyn x reader #ridoc gamlyn #ridoc x reader smut #ridoc x reader #fourth wing #iron flame smut #onyx storm

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enjakey · 1 month ago

Text

Me After Him

Pairing: model!Jake x model!Fem!Reader

Hello! This fic (25k) was posted in my old account that I have since deleted a long time ago. This is a new account so I’m reporting this here. I thought I’d never bring any of my old shit back but I love this series too much. If you’re wondering why this sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve read it a long time ago. Not because it’s plagiarized. None of my work is plagiarized, please understand that. My writing style is carefully curated from the many Japanese and Russian writers I engage with. This plot came to me after a horrible loss in my life- three years ago.

Please enjoy the read. There's a Sunghoon version that you can find, too.

Summary: Jake, who lived with his best of friends in New York, scores a jackpot- he made it in the modelling industry and now, he was one of the best of the best. He thinks his life is perfect- until he meets Y/N; mysterious, quiet and broken Y/N

JAKE WAS NEVER EXTROVERTED. He was ambitious and successful, but never extroverted. He chose to prioritise himself and decided to prioritise his dream of becoming the most successful model he could become. Then came his family and the six friends he made in summer camp when he was ten years old. That was all that was in the bubble he called home; his dog, his parents, his brother, his friends, himself, and his career.

At the beginning of his career, the boy’s character had been marred by the media more than most expected. He supposed that was what happened to most people that were on their road to success. Journalists claimed that he had an attitude, that his leading form of communication was glaring at others when they spoke or showing attitude to those that showed interest in conversing with him. Yet, on the other hand, the photographers he worked with argued that he had always been respectful and cooperative, and even a little innovative.

His career skyrocketed around the time he graduated high school. He went to a community college for the sake of education, but he rarely showed up. Photoshoots occupied his time, press meets, walking for runways of various fashion shows and meeting with designers. Jake was acquainted with most of the industry by the time he turned nineteen. He tried his best to be friendly, to not cuss at paparazzi that were just trying to be nice and to not show crudeness while answering selfish and personal questions- but he never made friends. He’d rather not.

At the age of twenty, the boy owned a small apartment in New York City and drove around with an Audi. The car was gifted to him by the company themselves because he had made an appearance in one of their advertisements.

As mentioned before, his career skyrocketed and it seemed like he had everything a young man like him could ask for… That is… Until he met Y/N.

The first time he saw her was at a party an acquaintance threw at a pub in the middle of the city. He was told it was just supposed to be a get-together of new and upcoming models of the industry and the models who seem to have been making a name for themselves. Jake assumed he fell into the latter category when he was invited. It wasn’t like his name was as popular as that of the Hadid sisters or Lucky Blue Smith but he was famous enough and he was successful enough and he received an income that was above the average of what models usually get.

People showed him respect, which was rare in the industry he found himself thriving in.

He assumed Y/N fell in the former category of models when he laid eyes on her. She was standing at the end of the pub, leaning against the bar and sipping on a glass of what he made out to be wine. Her eyes were cold and observant, her gaze piercing through the heavy air of the party. Her hair was pin-straight and he wasn’t sure if it was natural. Her presence at the party, or any party at all, didn’t seem natural. But the way she wore her makeup and the way she walked away from the bar in her heels and the way her body looked in the sequined black dress made it seem like parties were all that her life revolved around.

Stolen glances of her were all he got that night. He saw her wandering the bar alone, only speaking to those that spoke to her first. He saw her speaking to a man with a goatee and glasses, who he assumed was her manager. He saw her sitting in booths alone and not entertaining any company that came by her. He didn’t know if she had an attitude problem like people painted of him, or if she was just shy. Jake didn’t even learn her name that night, nor did he put in the effort to ask anyone about her. Because he thought there was no point in enquiring about someone he was sure he’d never cross paths with again. He was sure he’d see her around in news articles any time soon. But for that night, all that he was left with of hers were her piercing eyes and her confident walk.

He didn’t think about her much after that day, though.

Around two weeks later, Jake was called in for a photo shoot for a semi-popular magazine. He was told he was to model along with another girl who was known to be all the rage recently. He was told she was in demand for a lot of photoshoots and runways for many fashion shows. He was told that she reminded a lot of people of him when he was just starting. He was told her name was Y/N.

Y/N Y/LN.

It wasn’t until ten minutes into entering the photo studio that he realised who he was modelling with. It was the girl he saw at that party, standing with the photographer, Dubois, and nodding at whatever information was being said to her. He stood frozen in his spot for a good ten seconds before he took his first step toward her.

Her hair was styled in a slicked-back ponytail, dressed in a tight black dress that showed off her collar bones and waist and her eyes looked just as sharp and piercing as he remembered. He didn’t know if it was the eyeliner or if it was just the gaze she held. Jake found himself being intimidated as he approached her… and he wondered if that was how people felt the first time they met him.

But apart from that, he thought her name suited her.

When he finally brought himself to stand in front of Dubois and Y/N, it took around ten seconds for either of them to notice his presence. Both their heads turned to him at the same time and Dubois was the first to speak. “Ah, you’re finally here,” he said and Y/N’s eyes softened, along with her expression.

Jake greeted him with a nod before turning his head and meeting his eyes with Y/N’s. It was like time slowed and the air in his lungs escaped when she smiled at his presence. It was like he was breathing and tasting the air for the first time again since he was born when he realised that she was smiling for him, because of him.

He wanted to know why she had that effect on him. And he wanted her. Somehow and someway, he wanted her.

And a part of him wanted the craving to go away because it was new. She was new. And it was scary.

Y/N stretched her hand towards him, expecting a handshake as her smile grew wider. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.”

Her voice made Jake snap, eyes blinking and head shaking from side to side before forcing a smile out and stretching a hand out himself. “I’m Jake… Sim, good to have you here,” and their hands met in the middle and Jake thought he had just touched royalty. All he wanted to do was freeze time and stand there and admire her… He was too in awe to continue to smile.

“Now that the introductions are finished…” Jake started focusing on Dubois’ instructions, nevertheless continuing to observe Y/N from the corner of his eyes. Her piercing stare returned, as did the sober look on her face. He assumed it was just the way her face rested, or rather it was a look that grew on her. Because there was stress wrinkled into her forehead and the weight of some kind of pain resting on her shoulders. She just hid it well in the way she walked and talked.

It wasn’t Dubois’ first time working with Jake. In fact, he was very fond of working with the young model. He had always been cooperative and open about what he did and didn’t find comfortable doing. So it took him by surprise when he noticed the way Jake was almost shy to touch Y/N, as though she would run away if he put too much pressure on her with his touch. Dubois lowered his camera out of shock at a point but didn’t bother to mention the differences in his demeanour.

The pictures turned out beautiful regardless. A month after the photoshoot took place and after they were edited and airbrushed and filtered, they were published. The picture on the front cover of the magazine made Jake’s heart skip a beat. It was a simple picture if he had to be honest. They were sitting across from each other but their hands met in the middle, eyes looking into one another and knees touching. He didn’t remember the pose being as intimate as the pictures had turned out.

He chalked it up to the editing.

Chills went down his spine when he received a text from Y/N. It almost seemed coincidental, for him to be thinking about her and staring at the front cover of the magazine with a picture of them together and to get a message from her at the same time. Jake felt like he was in high school, pining over a stupid high school crush.

She had messaged him on Instagram to celebrate the publishing of their pictures. It was a simple text, really. A few words on how the pictures looked amazing and a few party popper emojis were thrown in with it. Jake took ten minutes to comprehend his thoughts and ten minutes to calm himself down before thinking of a response. He congratulated her back and agreed on how the pictures turned out great.

He waited for a response. He waited for five minutes, then ten, then twenty and by the thirty-minute mark, Jake had accepted that she wouldn’t text back. He wondered why. Perhaps it was because there wasn’t much she could say back, or maybe he responded too late and lost the chance of indulging in a nice conversation. But then it occurred to him that he would have normally done the same- he wouldn’t respond to most people that looked for small talk.

He threw his phone across the couch with a sigh and sulked.

It wouldn’t be until two months later that he’d see Y/N again, this time wearing a ruby red dress at another acquaintance’s birthday party. She looked exactly like how he remembered, the same piercing eyes scanning the room and the same confidence radiating off of her as she walked around and found herself a seat, a glass of red wine held between her red manicured nails. He thought she looked fiercely beautiful from afar, he could only imagine how he would feel if he went up to her.

Jake didn’t know why he found it so hard to simply walk up to a girl and speak, greet her with a handshake and smile and hope for the best. But this was the girl that refused to leave the end of every trail of his thoughts for the past two months. Every time he read about her or heard about her and every time he saw another one of her pictures published in a magazine or article, he suddenly felt unworthy of her.

From his point of view, she looked like the forbidden fruit, dressed in red and waiting for someone to chat her up as she sat alone and sipped on wine, continuing to observe everyone in the room. But the difference was, that Jake knew she wasn’t looking for small talk. It was clear how uninterested she seemed by the way she easily ended every conversation that anyone started with her and she looked like a pro in ending chit-chat without hurting anyone’s feelings.

Perhaps she liked her own company, perhaps she wanted to be alone and the thought almost made Jake back away and mind his own business. Almost. He strode up to her, hands in his pockets and head slightly tilted downwards as he reached her table, his heart beating faster by the second. He noticed her lips pull upwards as his presence came closer to her, but a part of him was wondering if she was smiling for him or if it was out of habit.

“Hi,” she said, settling her wine glass on the satin-covered table. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” she crossed one leg over the other, arms resting on her knee as she leaned towards him with a dopey smile.

“You’re gonna see me everywhere, darling,” he chuckled but his eyes widened when he noticed Y/N’s raised brows at his response. “Oh,” he breathed, realising his snarky remark. “I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Y/N laughed at him, lightly and softly as she hid her toothy grin behind her hand and leaned forward then leaned back into her chair- her entire demeanour seemed relaxed and she allowed herself to sit more comfortably. Jake didn’t know if it was because of him, or if she was simply being friendly.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I swear I’m not self-obsessed or narcissistic. It was just me joking-”

“Jake,” Y/N laughed again. “I get it, I get the humour. I like it,” she shook her head and her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at him with a soothing smile.

“Well, I’m glad you like my humour then,” his smile formed awkwardly but Y/N’s only grew wider.

She nodded her head towards the chair beside her and Jake almost stumbled on his feet and words as he sat there, pulling his seat closer to hers. But they didn’t speak, not for the first ten minutes or so before he found a conversation to start. And she spoke. Freely. And she didn’t seem to push him away like she did everyone else. Perhaps it was because he didn’t indulge her in any small talk which she seemed to hate so much but he found a part of himself wishing, praying that she was talking to him because she liked him or saw him as something special.

He wanted to be something special for her, and he wanted her to be something special for him.

Jake swore he never felt that way about someone in his entire life.

Yet as the party ended and Jake walked Y/N to her cab, he noticed just how closed off she had been while talking to him. Changing the topic of conversation every time it seemed to get personal or simply laughing at his words and forcing out responses that she didn’t seem to mean- she looked like she was keeping her walls up, like her emotions were on guard and like she was scared of being herself.

They exchanged numbers before her cab drove off and she gave him the brightest smile and waved her hand goodbye until her cab was out of sight and Jake thought that was the sweetest thing someone could ever do. And on his way back home, he replayed the entire night in his head, how they talked over wine and how the ruby and gold ring looked prettier on her finger when it was placed on her lips while concentrating on what he said.

Oh, how Jake loved the way she looked at him with such focus and attention, like he was the only person she cared about at the moment with her strikingly focused eyes and pursed lips. He knew he was romanticising the moment and painting it under a light that completely marred what must have actually happened but he couldn’t help it. He doesn’t remember the last time he had an actual conversation with someone that wasn’t part of his friend group or his family.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was basking in her attention. He felt alive when she seemed to be giving genuine responses to his questions and when she threw her head back in laughter along with him. The only thing missing was for her to open up, to be so carefree around him that she would speak whatever came to that pretty mind of hers.

He swore to himself that he’d make that happen. Someday.

Her laughter and her words were still stuck in his head as he fell onto his bed and while he stared at the wall, he imagined what their next conversation would sound like. He imagined what she’d wear and where they’d meet next. Would it be by chance, for another photoshoot, or maybe even for a date if he had enough courage to ask her?

He imagined what a date would look like with her- if she’d want to go stargazing with him just as much as he did or if she enjoyed the silence of an art museum. He wondered if she liked aquariums and he wondered if she liked picnics and board games. He wondered if they’d go shopping together or try new restaurants together. He wondered if she would ever open up to him and he wondered if she would ever let her walls down.

There was just something about her and Jake didn’t know what it was yet.

Just as the clock struck twelve and just as he was beginning to feel lonely, he called his insomniac friend, Sunghoon, who he knew wouldn’t pass up an opportunity of meeting up in the middle of the night. And Jake knew he was probably the only person willing to listen to him rant or willing to keep him company at an ungodly hour of a work day.

The boy showed up in no time, standing on the doorstep with a dozen cans of beer and chips.

Sunghoon was probably the first friend Jake made in that summer camp. They were first cabin mates, their bond starting with their childish love for making bracelets out of thread which turned into staying up late and sharing all the deep dark secrets their ten-year-old selves could possibly have had. Sunghoon was probably the one that understood him the most out of everyone and Sunghoon was the first to find out anything new about Jake and his life. This time was no different.

While he watched Jake sit on the floor and lean against the leg of his bed, drinking his beer while speaking of a girl with piercingly dreamy eyes and a soothing voice, he wondered what had gotten into his best friend. He wondered if he had ever heard him speak of someone that way and he realised this was the first time. The boy sulked deeper against the headboard and threw a pillow on his lap to lean his elbows on, deep in thought while Jake continued speaking.

“You know she’s still in high school?”

“Dude.”

“Chill, she’s eighteen,” Jake shook his head. “But she’s talented as fuck if she made it to this level of fame while still in high school.”

There wasn’t much Sunghoon, Jake or the internet knew about Y/N. Just the basics like where she grew up or what her favourite colour was. Her life was more private than Jake’s and no one thought that was possible. He didn’t know if it were a good thing, that Jake was falling for someone he knew nothing about and was starting to create a fantasy of her in his head. He didn’t know if it was possible to crush on someone so deeply, especially when they weren’t in high school anymore. He wondered if his best friend was going to end up hurt as he had been with every girl he had ever dated.

Sunghoon could swear that it was just Jake’s curiosity surrounding her mystery that was attracting him.

But a part of him thought Y/N was different. If she managed to get him to swoon over her like a school boy, then there must be something special about her, right?

Jake talked about her with so much admiration, you could see it in his smile and hear it in his voice. He talked about her until there was nothing else to say and he voiced every ‘what if’ until it wasn’t fantasising but just overthinking. He spoke about her until his excitement was gone and all that was left was why she was the way she was and why he liked her though he knew nothing of her.

“Do you just think she’s attractive or something?” He offered as Jake groaned once again. “What about her exactly are you so caught up with? What's so special about her?”

“I don’t know!” Jake flung his arms in the air, his foot nudging his empty can of beer that caused it to roll across the room. “There’s just something about her. It’s like she’s purposefully built up these walls and I want to know what’s behind it.”

“Maybe she’s going through something,” Sunghoon shrugged. “She seems closed off, right? People with trust issues are usually like that,” he took another sip of his beer and suddenly, all the cans were empty but both the boys were sober from frustration.

“But what’s causing those trust issues?” Jake thought out loud.

“I don’t know man, I guess we just have to wait and see.”

“She’s trying to save herself and I’ll figure out exactly from what.”

IN FACT, Y/N WAS saving herself from something- from heartbreak. Or, from another heartbreak, rather. She had enough at that point. From being used, replaced and lied to, she decided it was best to focus on herself and work towards making a better life for herself instead of being hung up on people that were not worth her time. And all of that was triggered by a boy named Sam whom she thought she would be with for the better part of her life.

Sam was good when she first met him. They were both just juniors in high school, oblivious to the bad that could come their way. She thought he was the perfect boy for her, the kind she saw in movies or read about in books, the kind she conjured up in her head before falling asleep. She gave him her all, gave him the time she would never give anyone else and let herself fall for him until he was the only person she felt safe around. Because he was truly worth it all and because he didn’t hurt her and promised to protect her and defend her no matter what. He told her she was his favourite person, he told her she was his number one choice. He was perfect… until he wasn't.

Until he changed himself and prioritised a good time over a good thing and until he took his girlfriend for granted and until she found herself crying over him every night before falling asleep. Sam left her at her lowest and then she was all alone.

It took her two months to get back on her feet and start trusting her friends again and it took her two months to realise that it was better not to wish for his return anymore. She accepted that she deserved better and she accepted that he wasn’t the right person for her. And, that’s when she started modelling.

It took three months for her career in modelling to become something to be proud of. Only she knew how much energy and effort it took to get to where she was and only she knew how trimerous and taxing it was to deal with depression, loneliness and heartbreak while trying to make herself successful at the same time.

By the time the first semester of her senior year started, Y/N had become a well-respected model, yet her friend circle shrunk to maybe two or three people.

The loneliness didn’t bother her as much anymore but the pain was still there. Hurt loomed over her every time she thought of Sam or herself and she wondered why she was never good enough or if she was lovable or if she could ever find true love. Her heart ached, but all she could do was distract herself.

Y/N was making more money than an average model. She was well known, and famous even, and she rarely showed up to school. Perhaps that was good, it would mean she wouldn’t have to be reminded of those who hurt her and left her. But at the same time, she didn’t know anyone outside of her school and her newfound trust issues made it hard for her to make new friends from the industry she thrived in.

So, she started making boundaries, saving herself from sabotage before anyone even got the chance to hurt her. She was nice to everyone, yes. But it wouldn’t go further than a friendly conversation. At that point, she was coming to terms with being by herself and only depending on herself… Until she met Jake.

When she met him at their photoshoot, Y/N felt more self-conscious than she usually did. To be fair, she was modelling with someone considered more famous and successful than her, someone who was pretty much out of her league- obviously, she felt self-conscious around him. But when she caught herself looking for stolen glances from him, smiling at him when he wasn’t looking at her and almost admiring his pale skin and rosy lips; she knew he had to be different.

Y/N didn’t think much of how she felt about him, though. After the photo shoot ended, she pretty much forgot about him and the loneliness and heartbreak entered her chest again and brought chills to her bones. That night, she remembered laying in bed with tears rolling down the sides of her face, thinking of what could have been instead of appreciating what was. She couldn’t even call someone to distract herself and just dwelled in her misery.

When she saw their pictures finally published on the front cover of a magazine, she found herself admiring them. She thought the picture looked stunning, mostly because she thought she looked pretty sitting beside Jake, like they made a good-looking couple. He was smiling and she was smiling and a part of her was hoping that his smile was genuine and not staged. A part of her hoped they could have more photo shoots again because the experience was genuinely much more fun with him compared to anyone else she had modelled with.

The entire week following the publishing of their pictures, Y/N remembered using the thought of Jake to distract herself from thinking about Sam. But it didn’t work and she had given up and suddenly Jake was the last thing she thought about as loneliness and despair reappeared in her life.

She wanted to feel something for Jake. She wanted to feel something for anyone but Sam.

So the next time she saw Jake, she didn’t force herself to push him away. She chose to sit with him and speak with him, just as he approached her when he could have been getting acquainted with the rest of the party attendees. He chose to sit with her and she noticed it. He chose not to leave her company and she appreciated it. And she tried her best to make sure he understood that he had her undivided attention though she would usually rather focus on her wine. She thought the outfit he wore by AMI Paris suited him well, complimenting his dewy eyes and hair and the nonchalant attitude he was trying to hide. She noticed how his responses were standing on the border between sarcastic and flirty and she saw how much effort he seemed to have been putting in to be nice to her.

He was trying. She thought that was the most anyone could do.

The issue was that she didn’t know why he was trying. She didn’t know why he was showing interest in her or why he was forcing himself to be nice to her. Was it a bet he was participating in? Or was it because she could provide him with something he needed? Nothing made sense in her head, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And as she laid on her bed that night, her favourite music playing in the background, Y/N thought about the way he laughed at her jokes and the way he was so eager to continue their conversation. She thought about how he had refused to leave her side, even when other party guests had come up to them and asked for a chat. She thought about the one time their hands had accidentally brushed against each other and she thought about the way he’d looked at her through his lashes and she thought about the way his skin glowed under the lighting of the chandelier.

Y/N felt butterflies for the first time in a long time and she didn’t know if she was prepared to face her emotions yet.

Tears spilt past her eyes that night too, and if she was keeping an accurate count, it would be the first time she was crying in a week. All her thoughts and emotions somehow led her back to thinking about Sam and how he’d moved on and how he was happy with the girl he told her not to worry about. Yet here she was, a semi-famous model and a rich teenager, weeping in sorrow and wondering if she’ll ever find someone to love her the way she wanted and deserved and if she would ever be good enough for anyone.

She spent the next day doing absolutely nothing. It was one of the rare days where she had no work to tend to and usually, she was expected to go to school. Her parents had pestered her and almost begged her to at least show up in school because she hadn’t been studying and they were convinced that she was going to fail her exams. Y/N saw no point in them anymore. She simply told them that she would study without the help of her teachers. Her parents snarled at her and went back to minding her own business.

It was unhealthy to stay in her room all day but she had no energy to do anything else. She watched a movie for a while, then listened to music and picked at the loose skin around her fingernails. At a point, she found herself sitting in silence, eyes spacing out and mind buzzing with thoughts that only made her heart pound and ache and come to the verge of ripping into two pieces.

Her phone didn’t buzz from any text or phone call from her friends and she knew they were all busy with studies and college applications but she had to wonder why her life always lead her to be lonely in whatever she did. She didn’t have any friends she could relate to or depend on or call to cry about how stressed she was from moving around from photoshoot to photoshoot all day. She didn’t have anyone to share her accomplishments and bliss with. And she didn’t have anyone she could laugh with or go out to parks with or watch movies with. She lost it all and she dealt with it all alone, not because she wanted to but because she had no other choice. And she accepted that she would be all alone and that it was about time she started controlling her emotions instead of letting them control her.

But it weighed too heavy on her heart- it hurt.

She didn’t know how much longer it was going to last- the brooding and the self-pity. Most importantly, she didn’t know how much more she could take. Yet every day, she found herself forcing on a smile and powering through her errands until she could come back home and be with her issues without hiding them, all alone yet again. Her days were interesting, but they felt so repetitive.

Y/N made her way down the hallways of GQ’s headquarters, the clicking of her heels ricocheting off the barren walls. Tony, her manager, guided her to the meeting room, where she was greeted by a group of models who were all there for the same reason- to read through their contracts.

Y/N was about to model for GQ, one of the most renowned magazines, yet not a bone in her body or fibre in her being could force itself to feel any ounce of happiness or excitement. This job would give her a paycheck pricey enough to let her, an eighteen-year-old high schooler, rent out an apartment of her own for a little while but she wasn’t thrilled. She simply faked eyes of glee and a smile of appreciation as she took her seat and was handed her contract for her to look through.

Tony assured her that he would be waiting at the reception for her.

If she thought about it, Tony would probably be the person that was there for her the most. She wasn’t planning on it, but one day when he had come to her house to pick her up for another errand to complete, he found her lying in the corner of her room, crying her eyes out while curling into herself and it was the first time she had told him anything personal about herself. The sight was gut-wrenching, enough for him to promise her that he would be there regardless of his circumstance and that he was her friend.

Though Y/N didn’t exactly call him when she was crying or was feeling lonely, it was clear how much he cared for her. Tony, though he was perhaps twice her age, quickly became somewhat of an uncle to her. He checked up on her frequently and ensured all her needs were taken care of. He would mentally and emotionally prepare her for situations he knew she would feel uncomfortable in and he would tell her all she needed to know for any new job.

But he was only human and humans made mistakes. Tony was no less because when Y/N realised that he didn’t tell her that Jake would be part of the GQ shoot as well, she almost wanted to hit him.

He could have told me sooner, she thought, because when Jake walked into the meeting room, she swore she felt her heart swell with something she would describe as anticipation and she felt excited. She was excited to work with him again, she was excited to be in the same room as him again. If she had known beforehand that she would work with him, perhaps she would have felt this delight for a little longer and maybe she would have looked forward to working with GQ.

It took Jake a few seconds to make eye contact with Y/N. He was in the middle of removing his coat and taking his seat when he saw her and the smile on his face looked brighter than the one she wore. They waved at each other enthusiastically for a brief moment before Jake's attention was pulled away by a man handing him his contract.

Once he settled, the room went quiet and everyone was back to minding their own business. They stayed in that room for a good hour. An hour that was filled with Y/N glancing at Jake through the corner of her eyes and Jake smirking every time they caught themselves looking at each other. The rest of the models were clueless and Jake thought that was the most amusing part.

They were told that the shooting would start the next day, somewhere on the outskirts of New York. Y/N just counted on Tony to take her where she was supposed to. Once they were all briefed on the timings, requirements and expectations of the shoot, they were piled out of the room and she was left to stand in front of Jake with an awkward smile as everyone walked past them, returning to their own lives.

She didn’t know exactly what to say or do. Her hands balled into fists and her foot tapped rhythmically on the tiled floor. She couldn’t even will herself to look him in the eyes and she was quickly reminded how she wasn’t usually like this. Being nervous and shy wasn’t how she portrayed herself to be, especially with the people she worked with.

Perhaps one day she would regret ever showing Jake the vulnerable side of her. Perhaps one day she would regret opening up to him or wanting to be something more than acquaintances with him. Perhaps she would regret putting herself in a position where she could easily get hurt again. But at that moment, as Jake stared her down with nervous eyes and a softened smile, she was convinced he would never hurt her.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be here,” he said, referring to the night at the party where she could have easily told him that she was booked for the GQ cover shoot. But then again, Jake didn’t have a chance to mention it either. “We could have come here together.”

At that, Y/N felt her heart flutter. Because Jake Sim, the model who had been popping into her thoughts unwelcomed and the pretty boy she thought was out of her league, basically said that he wished he had taken the chance to spend time with her, make memories with her, have her be a part of his schedule- even if it was just for a day.

“Maybe next time?” She offered, completely unsure of what to say, still taken aback.

“Or, if you’re free now…”

“Yeah, I’m free now,” nodding enthusiastically, her smile grew with expectation.

Jake chuckled. “We could do something together now?” His shoulders raised as though he was making a proposition.

He was almost convinced that she would bail on him but then she said, “I’d love that,” and the insecurities and nerves growing in his stomach disappeared and he allowed himself to take a breath of relief. He extended a hand for her to take and she meekly looped her arm with his and it didn’t feel as awkward as they thought it would be. The pair walked out of the building before telling their managers that they were heading off. Then they got into Jake’s car.

AND THAT’S HOW THEIR friendship began.

Jake took her to a cafe downtown that day and all they did was talk and sip on mugs of coffee. They talked about Y/N’s school and how Jake entering the modelling field was all out of pure luck. They talked about their lives and their family and friends they said they’d introduce each other to. They spoke about their interests, which then stemmed to Y/N ranting about true crime cases and that caused Jake to quickly realise it was her favourite form of entertainment.

That day, they didn’t take pictures or touch their social media but left the cafe when the sun started to set and when the stars were shining. Jake, being a concerned gentleman, had offered to drop Y/N home but she refused and assured him that it wouldn’t be her first time taking a cab home so late into the night. He asked her to text him when she reached home and she did as she was requested.

“I had fun today, we should do it again sometime,” he texted her too and Y/N was the first time in a long time that Y/N laid on her bed with glee rather than a frown and tears rolling past her cheeks.

For the first time in a long time, she fell asleep with a smile and she fell asleep looking forward to the next day because she would see him again. And she fell asleep with a smile because she didn’t think of Sam and didn’t wish the blood supply to her heart would be cut off. She fell asleep with a smile because perhaps her life wouldn’t feel so tedious and repetitive anymore.

It would be the first time in a while that Y/N had fun in a photo shoot. Because not only was Jake’s presence refreshing, but it was also encouraging. Jake being there, posing for the same camera as she was amid other models, brought her energy she didn’t think she had in her. It was like something in her lit up and her face gave off a glow that the photographer was almost astonished to see.

A few days after that photo shoot, there were rumours of GQ wanting Y/N to be their ambassador but they were deemed to be untrue.

Y/N and Jake talked a lot the following days. Mostly on text, but they still talked a lot. He would respond to her and update her every chance he could, even in between his most exhausting errands and Y/N found herself doing the same. Those texts soon turned into calls and within a month, they found themselves at each other's houses almost every weekend.

They helped each other grow and Y/N didn’t realise how much she needed someone like Jake until he started caring about her. He started caring about her in ways she didn’t think were possible because whenever he was at her place, he would make sure she ate enough and he would make sure she took her daily vitamins. He checked up on her every day and called her before he went to sleep like it was a ritual. On days she went to school, he would be there at the end of the day to pick her up, just in case she had a worse day than usual.

He asked about Sam a lot. He would ask about how their relationship started and how he treated her and what caused their falling apart. Y/N found herself answering his questions with no hesitation and no tears. A part of her, a huge part of her, felt more comfortable and safe around Jake- more than she felt around Sam or anyone else.

“He used to take care of me the way you are now, you know? Until we started hurting each other.”

“Anyone that loves you is gonna take care of you this way, Y/N. Anyone that loves you is gonna treat you the way he used to. There was nothing special about that. Do you know what makes it special? If the person keeps trying and realises that to build a relationship, it takes a lot of mistakes and lessons and effort. Do you know why he wasn’t the one? Because he stopped putting effort and because he gave up and went for someone easier.”

Y/N ignored what Jake insinuated on and his choice of wording. She turned her head to the side to hide her grin and bit her lips. This is what I needed to hear, she thought to herself. Hearing it from Jake simply made all the more sense.

“Is there anything that makes you special?” Through her lashes, she could see the way his lips parted into a smirk and his eyes flickered from her to the bowl of food in his hands.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” he said, and though the words came out teasingly, Y/N could make out the sincerity in his eyes. Jake brought another spoon of rice to her lips and she took the food into her mouth, gaze not leaving his.

Jake didn’t complain about having to take care of her. He didn’t complain about her behaviours or mood swings or needs. He accepted her. He accepted her enough not to want her to change. He accepted her enough to love her the way she was.

Y/N was learning that this was what love looked like. Romantic or not.

On a day standing between the border between spring and summer, Jake took her to Pier 62 Skatepark. He told her that it was a lucky day because all six of his friends were not burdened by packed schedules of internships or exams and he told her that he was excited to introduce her to them. He also told her, or rather warned her, not to believe any jokes they made about him or any weird childhood escapade of his that would be mentioned.

Somewhere on the curved ledges on the concrete, she saw six boys sitting in a row, all of whom had differentiating features of experience and maturity, their feet dangling off the edges as they laughed amongst whatever conversation they were having. She knew they were all of different ages and she could easily name who each was with how Jake had previously described them alone. And she wanted to show off and greet each boy herself by name but she didn’t. The need to give a good first impression dissolved as she got closer to them and all that was left was nerves and an awkward smile that compelled her to hide behind Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noticed her shying away and a huge part of him wondered where the confident girl he met all those months ago had disappeared. He wondered if the girl who always had her walls up at parties when she showed up wearing fancy dresses had died. He wondered if her pricking gaze and strut of a walk were all lies- but then he also realised that she was usually putting on a confident front and independent mask when she was alone. That look of judgment and observance was always there when she was alone, in a room filled with strangers, whose opinions she could manipulate just by the way she looked. She couldn’t do that now because she was sure Jake probably spoke about her and her character to his friends and she couldn’t do that now because these people were sitting there, waiting to get to know her. After all, their best friend, Jake Sim, wanted them to.

Y/N was terrified, to say the least, knowing she had no other choice but to speak about herself and think of witty responses to their words. She didn’t want to admit it but all those previous months of being depressed and lonely almost made her forget how to socialise and Jake was simply a blessing of a friend. There was a reason for her silence at parties and there was a reason why she pushed everyone away once she sensed that small talk was withering apart. She would rather keep to herself than give away that she was socially awkward and isolated through a forced conversation. In those times, Y/N had no other option but to hide behind a mask she created for herself and she did a damn well job at it.

But she didn’t have to hide behind herself now because she had Jake to hide behind and though his heart melted at the thought of her depending on him and though all he could think about was holding her in his arms and protecting her, he stopped in his tracks. Y/N, trailing behind him like a lost puppy, bumped into his back and blinked profusely, looking down at his hand that was flailing around, seeming to be looking for hers. Confused, she clasped her hand with his and she watched the way their fingers intertwined and allowed the warmth of the gesture to seep in. But before she could relish the moment, he had tugged his arm forward with enough force that made Y/N stumble in front of him.

She was no longer hiding behind his frame. Her eyes were directly in line with the six boys she was about to meet and from the distance she stood in, it seemed as though they were staring back at her.

She gulped.

Looking over her shoulder, she found Jake staring back at her with an encouraging grin and sparkling eyes covered by his floppy hair. With a nod toward his friends, he willed her to walk forward and she did. With her hands balled into fists, she took the first few steps, legs shaking at first but the more she walked without his aid, the faster her shoulders straightened and her tread turned confident. Though Jake could only see her back, he could easily tell she probably had a sly smirk playing on her lips with the way her hips started swaying. It was almost like she was slipping on a mask, one made entirely out of confidence, charm and perhaps even a little wit- the same mask Jake had watched her sport multitudes of times when they were both attending gatherings together or were invited to some launch party. But he could confidently say that the piercing eyes of hers he fell in love with were never a sham.

His steps slowed as his chest began filling with pride. His eyes glossed over as he watched Y/N approach his friends, her hair bouncing off her shoulders and arm stretching forward to shake hands with Heeseung first, then Jungwon and the rest of the boys. This would be the first time that Jake saw Y/N approach someone, rather than someone else approaching her.

Ruffling Y/N’s hair was the first thing he did when he finally approached the group. He could almost hear her heartbeat, louder than the gallops of a thousand horses, but then he saw the smile on her face and the way she was talking aloud with his friends and with him and he was convinced that she was filled with adrenaline. And he thought it was good. It was good because she was learning to love new experiences and she was learning to meet new people.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Sunghoon said as Jake hoisted himself to sit beside him. Y/N was left standing, looking up at the seven boys sitting together and the sight deemed complete with Jake among them. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Not a single part of her was surprised that Jake had spoken about her to his friends but she never questioned what it was that he said about her. She never wondered if he told them what they did together or spoke about and she was always confident that he wouldn’t just expose to them all the panic attacks and hysterical cries she’s had in front of him.

It was Jake and she trusted him.

Yet for the sake of conversation, she simply had to ask “What exactly does he say about me?”

There was a sharp silence that followed her question. Jake froze in his stance, his eyes darting from her to his friends in panic and Sunghoon pulled his lip between his teeth. Y/N was on the verge of panic, already feeling her legs tremble and hands quiver, convinced that she had ruined the day and that the following conversations and little time for bonding would become botched and robotic. As her eyes scanned the faces of each boy, wondering what everyone was thinking, she heard a snort from Riki, his lips fighting to stretch into a smile and his laughter beating its way out of his throat.

Sunoo’s smile followed next, though he didn’t find the need to hide it. He laughed freely, leaning forward as he clapped his hands and eased everyone's expressions. Y/N swore she saw everyone let out a relieved sigh. “You don’t have to worry,” the pink-haired boy giggled, holding his palms together in front of him. “He always just boasts about you and brags about how you're his new best friend,” it was obvious that he was trying to mimic the way Jake spoke and his lack of accuracy made Jay sneer.

“Oh, please,” Jay chuckled. “I’ve never heard Jake say he’s made a new friend so the second all of us found out, we started yelling and screaming and begged to meet you.”

With the few words Jay spoke, Y/N was able to figure out his mellow nature. He was laid back, silent while he was thinking and when he found the need to express his thoughts, they came out calm and organised. Throughout the fifteen minutes she was with them, he had his palms pressing flat behind him, his body leaning into his arms in a relaxed manner and his attention was fixated on the surroundings around him rather than the people he was with, but he was listening intently regardless.

“You guys make it a bigger deal than it is,” Jake waved his hand with a whine, his cheeks turning a shade of red with all the blood rushing to his face. His body leaned sideways in an attempt to hear everyone better, torso pressing into Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Jake seemed more fond of Sunghoon, Y/N realised. With every joke that was made, the pair would always look at each other first before laughing and they would usually glance at each other before speaking. While Heeseung told the story of how they all met, she learned that Jake and Sunghoon were the first among them to meet and become close. How the rest of them became friends and grew a bond strong enough to last so many years was beyond them but it was so clear how much they cared for each other. She saw it in the way Riki gave Sunoo his jacket when it got chilly and she saw it in the way Jay allowed Jungwon to lean his head on his shoulder when he got tired. She saw it in the way Heeseung offered Sunghon water when he simply cleared his throat and she saw it in the way Jake kept glancing at Riki to see if the boy was comfortable.

Y/N was brought to a state of melancholy as she watched these boys interact. Though she was happy that they had each other in this barren world, she wondered why she never found friends like that for herself.

What was she lacking? What was she doing wrong? She thought about that a lot.

“I have to ask,” she started as Jungwon finished telling his story of how he convinced his grandparents to enrol him into taekwondo classes. “You all have such different lives and interests that all seemed to have started in places other than New York,” her gaze immediately shifted to Jake. “How did all seven of you end up here?” her fingers pointed to the ground, the stress in her voice indicated the city they were all on.

Looking over their shoulders, Y/N could see a few boats tied to the docks of the lake, tinges of marigold and lavender hovering in the corners of the sky. The sun was setting and a majority of the kids that showed up at the park started leaving. There was this moment of tranquillity as dried-up leaves breezed past them and suddenly, all she could think about was New York City and its huge complexity, a city of diverse culture and fashion. Anybody would be lucky to live there and she wondered if she was asking the right questions.

“That’s a good question,” Jungwon thought aloud, subsiding Y/N’s doubts. “All of us ended up here because of Heeseung,” he stated as a matter of factly and he pointed towards the oldest.

Heeseung put on a dopey, almost embarrassed, smile as he scratched the nape of his neck and nodded. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed. “It was a huge process but I’m glad that at least everyone settled in just fine.”

Then each of the boys continued explaining their version of the story. They told her how Heeseung first sprung the idea when he got into New York University and didn’t want to leave everyone behind. He said that there was no way he would ever thrive at university without his best friends, his family, alongside him and he spent months convincing everyone’s families to let their children move across the seven oceans with him.

Riki and Jungwon had no other choice but to live with Heeseung because they were both minors and Heeseung was the oldest and automatically the most responsible. And because Sunoo and Riki were inseparable, he was thrown into the mix and currently, the four lived in a three-bedroom apartment that was convenient for them to go to their respective schools. Y/N could only imagine how much chaos their mornings would be filled with- four boys getting ready for school and every other errand. But the more she imagined it, the more she thought it was wholesome and heart-warming and the more she wished she had friends to move in with as well.

She learned that initially, Jay, Sunghoon and Jake were living together. The three lived in peace, Jay minding his own business in his room while he dealt with his part in running his dad’s company or leaving for college whenever he could. Sunghoon would leave every day to train for ice-skating and return by the night after he was done with community college. Jake’s schedule was the most flexible in the beginning, before his modelling career bloomed and when all he had to worry about was sending his portfolio and resume to various managers. He only moved out to the more bustling and lavish side of New York when he was deemed successful.

Over time, everyone, despite living together, started having lives of their own and sometimes, some wouldn’t show their faces at home for days on end. But none of that was ever an issue and they never drifted because at the end of the day, they were all family and they grew up together. They all grew to love moments like these where they’d find themselves sitting together and basking under a sunset and salty breeze while laughing.

Rare moments were easier to cherish.

“Jay’s dad helped us through the moving process a lot,” Sunghoon nodded, weaving his fingers together on his lap. “We had to live in a hotel for a few months before finding apartments of our own. It was still fun though.”

“You know,” Jungwon started with a laugh, thumb pointing towards Riki. “His parents were too scared to let him shift with all of us so Heeseung and Jay stayed up all night making a PowerPoint presentation to convince them.”

Y/N gaped. “Did it work?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Riki grinned proudly, brows wiggling as everyone else laughed at the memory.

Their lives seemed like an unconventional fairytale found in the unrealistic fantasies Y/N would sometimes make herself. She once dreamed about moving to Italy with her one true love and living in a cottage and selling fresh fruits and flowers their whole lives. She dreamed that their daily chores would consist of doing everything together and always ending their nights with homemade wine and cheese. She dreamed that it would just be her and her lover, alone and content with just each other's company because the rest of the world would be irrelevant. That was a dream, her dream, her childish dream.

These boys had a dream of their own- to move to New York City together and build independent lives, all the while enjoying each other's unchanging and unwavering company. They made it work. Luck was in their hands and all the stars aligned for them and here they were, living what she considered to be the teenage dream. She wondered what that must have felt like.

Y/N fell silent the rest of the time she spent with them, not because she was glum but rather because of a growing sense of comfort. The feather-like smile on her lips never left as she found herself sitting beside Jake, her cheek pressing into his shoulder while she listened to the boys talk and banter amongst themselves. She didn’t feel out of place and nor did she feel like she had to contribute to the conversation to feel wanted. At that moment, it was just her and them, two different worlds colliding.

Jake deemed it to be late once strokes of navy brushed the sky, the moon visible if he squinted his eyes just a little bit. A steady breeze ruffled their hair and sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. With the goosebumps protruding from her skin, she shuddered, hugging herself and grinning as Jake announced that it was time for everyone to go home but it was Riki that stopped them, whining about something not being fair and how he wanted to spend more time with everyone.

In a fleeting moment, as though a lightbulb appeared above her head, Y/N piped “should we all go for dinner together?” and Riki nodded enthusiastically with the brightest smile she had ever seen. It was enough to light up the entire park they were in. Jake, who stood beside her with a hand on her back, looked down at her with a smile, admiring eyes gleaming at the sight of her and her sudden enthusiasm.

Jake wished she would stay enthusiastic for the rest of their lives, believing that what he saw in front of him was her truest form, where she was laughing and joking around with everyone, answering questions about herself freely without fear or hesitation. Bliss was radiating off of her and if they were in a world of animation, he knew rays of sunshine would be protruding out of her body. He wondered if after today, the happiness and carefree nature she showed would stay and he wondered if she would feel juvenile enough to hold his arm and bounce up and down again like she was doing now, watching Riki pump his fists in the air and run towards his respective car with the same enthusiasm.

“Let’s go!” The boy hollered and everyone else followed.

The group found themselves sitting at a round table in a hotpot restaurant known as HaiDiLao that seemed to have been blowing up on TikTok recently. When Y/N suggested the place, Jake chuckled at her, knowing that she had taken this opportunity to finally satisfy her long-lasting craving for Asian cuisine. As they sat and waited around for their food, steady conversation flowing between them like before, Y/N grew to realise that Riki was much like her. He was naturally quiet, laughing within himself when someone made a measly joke and speaking his opinions softly. He only showed excitement in rare moments, making fun of his peers only when he found the perfect moment to. The boy was extremely independent, she learned when he spoke about his school life. He only had one friend outside of the group he was in, the rest of his classmates irrelevant to his conscience and he seemed to be more focused on his goals. An aspiring dancer he was, his talents being compared to Micheal Jackson by his coaches and teachers.

Jungwon showed her videos of Riki dancing and Sunghoon gliding on ice. She thought the two boys had many similarities, too. Both focused on their goals and both preferred to stay silent even around their best friends. She couldn’t tell if it was because they had nothing to say or if it were simply because they were shy, but their occasional jokes and accusations for comedic purpose told her that they were simply being themselves.

If she thought about it, most of the boys were similar but it was each other that brought out their chaotic and adolescent sides. Heeseung, the great musician studying to be a producer, was always laughed at about his food habits. Jungwon, who seemed to be the peacemaker of the group, had a way of raising Sunghoon and Jake’s brows with his bizarre statements. And Sunoo, aspiring to become the owner of a skincare brand someday, was the ray of sunshine that brought the group out of their pessimistic reflections. Jay liked to make fun of him a lot, she realised in between dipping her mutton into boiling broth and chewing on enoki mushrooms.

They were all like seven peas in a pod and Y/N was just there observing, hoping that someday, she would have close friendships of her own. She gazed at Jake, the ache in her heart easing when he looked back at her with a beaming smile and lovingly observant eyes.

Jake drove her home that night, a playlist of classical music playing in the background as light rain drizzled onto the windows. The street lights blurred, causing a bokeh effect and she felt the skid of the tires every time Jake drove into a puddle. It was a good day, she thought and she wished that the night didn’t have to end. She wished she could stay in the hotpot restaurant for the rest of her life and listen to the many life stories the group of seven boys had to offer. Because while she was with them, she could forget about the miserable aspects of her life and delve into this world of fantasy they created for themselves and maybe, just maybe, she would become part of it.

“Will I ever get to meet your friends?”

The car came to a screeching halt and Y/N’s apartment building came into view. A lone lamplight hung on its gate and she realised her parents must have been awaiting her return. The time read 11:07 pm and the music had been drowned by crashing rain. Tilting her head towards Jake, she saw his droopy eyes and a smile groggily maintained. He was sleepy and driving in the rain at such a late hour would be the worst idea so she thought of inviting him into her house for probably the millionth time in the past few months and letting him sleep over for the first time. She was sure her parents wouldn’t mind, they’ve seen the boy around enough to trust him around her and they’ve seen just how attentive he was towards her.

She decided she would answer his question first.

“I don’t think I want you to meet my friends.”

Jake’s heart dropped. In the span of a second, his thoughts wandered into replaying all the events of the night and finding where things went south and what caused Y/N to suddenly change her mind. Just a week ago, she was hell-bent on introducing him to her friends and she was adamant about him bonding with them because it was important for her. Now she was hesitant, almost cringing at the thought of letting her work-best-friend meet the people she clung to at school.

“Why?” Jake stuttered out, his cheeks flushing paler and sleep rinsing out of his system.

“I’m scared,” she sighed and his brows furrowed.

“Of what?”

“I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

Though he heard the quiver in her voice, he was confused about how she reached that conclusion. Every step he took forward on getting to know her, it was moments like these that took him three steps back. He thought he understood the way her mind worked and thoughts panned out and if he didn’t, Y/N would try her best to help him understand. At the end of the day, it was her fear and insecurities that panned her judgement on any situation.

“How will you lose me?”

“Because they’re all better people than me, they’re so much more interesting than I could ever be,” her hands moved animatedly as she explained, stray strands of hair covering the sides of her face. “What if you realise I’m boring and leave me for one of them.”

Y/N had spoken about her friends a lot. She told him about Sheila that had a meme or vine reference to throw for every conversation and Veronica, who was on her way to intern for NASA. She told him about Arnold, who was a master with stocks and went to the gym all the time, earning more than her, a model, at the age of seventeen. Then there was Jasper, who aspired to be a doctor and Tina, who seemed to have her life and morals all put together, aiming for some of the best art-history colleges in Europe. She spoke highly of Maya who was always down to Earth, had everyone's respect and was big on photography and fashion. She told him about many more people, all of her descriptions about them ending with, “We aren’t very close.”

She was right, these people she called friends all had their own stories that would peak many people's interests but Jake thought Y/N's life was no less profound or fascinating compared to anyone else's.

From the many stories her parents had indulged him in whenever he went to her house, he learned that she had always been independent in many things. Sure, she craved intimacy and codependency, but once she made a decision, it was final. At the ripe beginnings of her teenage years, she decided to move out of her parents' house to pursue an education in New York and live with her grandparents. To this date, no one understood how she came to this decision but she found herself moving from China to the States when she turned fourteen. She left behind her parents and friends and a country she had lived in for thirteen years to start anew and if she was asked if she regretted her decision, she would respond by saying she never had regrets in her life, not even decisions that lead to the biggest of heartbreaks.

At fifteen, a year after her parents had moved to the States to be with her, Y/N had easily learnt the ropes of moving around town on her own. She’d roam the streets alone, occasionally with a friend or two if she was allowed. She had no problem going places alone or making decisions on her own but when it came to meeting someone new, suddenly she was the most sheepish girl to exist. Her walls were easy to break down but that was a trait of hers she couldn't seem to mend.

At seventeen, when she and Sam had separated, Y/N started making and sending in her portfolios to various modelling agents and she didn't mention it to anyone until she was sure that she had a job secured. Her parents were infuriated by her antics, calling her careless, naive and various other adjectives that could describe a child to be a rotten egg. Her father, a man whose childhood was woven of orthodoxy morals, had spent over a month attempting to put a wall between her and her dreams of showing up on the cover page of a magazine or walking a runway. Her relationship with her parents had diminished until eventually, they came around when she started earning money and could essentially afford her basic needs.

Though her parents wouldn't admit to anyone that they only allowed their daughter to continue thriving in an industry they were so revolted by because of her large success in making money, Y/N was quick to point out that detail to Jake when she had the chance. She didn't feign any resentment towards her parents, but it wasn't as though she had a relationship with them in the first place. Since she was young, she depended on herself or whatever friends she had at the time. Her parents only saw her as a trophy to show off to the rest of the world, to boast about how well they raised her and to display her success via framed pictures and medals over the fireplace. At the end of the day, she knew nothing of them, not even their favourite food.

Jake also came to realise the plethora of people she met throughout her young age, forming connections that would eventually wither away into phone calls once in a blue moon or random texts of 'hi, how you been?' That in itself made him wonder about the amount of knowledge she had in human behaviours and if it were her many experiences with different personalities that planted the seed of curiosity towards psychology and sociology in her.

She seemed to forget small details about herself, details that Jake deemed compelling. Such as the random and exceptional pieces of information she had in marine biology, occasionally indulging him in a lesson on the variety of jellyfish or the phenomenon of deep-sea gigantism. He noticed her love for sharks, especially whale sharks when she mentioned that one of her biggest goals in life was to fly to the Philippines and swim with one of them. Her knack for languages, a skill she acquired from her mother, was the most daunting. It was fascinating to listen as she switched between languages, from English to Chinese to Spanish and then back to English again. On top of that, there were a myriad number of other languages she could understand. It was that dexterity of hers that led Jake to coax her into learning a little bit of Korean. He was also drawn to her love for true crime, especially the gruesome and grotesque details of murders she seemed to always remember to bring up in designated conversations while indulging in her favourite drink- boba tea.

Her love for the drink was almost comical and much too distinct. She’d be appalled if any variation of boba tea was ordered- the original was always preferred; iced milk tea with an extra serving of tapioca pearls that she loved chewing on. Countless amounts of instances included Y/N ranting about the drink- something so simple yet personal to her because it was all she drank while growing up in Shanghai- saying that no tea shop could replicate the delicate flavours of tapioca pearls and chai milk tea other than this particular boba shop she always used to purchase from in China.

“Y/N, you’re not boring,” Jake lulled, his hand instinctively reaching for hers, which were perched between her thighs. “How could you call yourself boring?” the word rolled off his tongue as though it was foreign. Of the many adjectives available in the Cambridge Dictionary, boring would be the last word he’d use to describe the mess of a beauty sitting beside him.

Her hair was now completely covering any view he had of her face and her torso leaned forward. He felt her shudder, her hands shaking as she visibly choked in a sob. No matter how much she tried keeping her emotions straight and harbouring her thoughts in the bay, the buzz in her head caused a single teardrop to escape the rim of her eye and roll off her cheek, falling right onto Jake’s knuckle.

In the past five or so months of Jake getting to know Y/N, the number of times he’d seen her cry could be counted with his fingers. He had always known she was emotional and she had always known that she was sensitive and he knew for a fact that she cried more when she was alone, but never did she allow herself to fully break down in front of Jake and this moment would not count either. It was just a single tear and a few heavy breaths that came out of her, her eyes now bloodshot.

In a second, a day that they thought would have a happy ending, ended in Y/N questioning herself and becoming insecure in her friendship with Jake.

Y/N had always been level-headed. She was the girl most of her friends turned to when they needed advice or consolation of some form and she was always there with her arms wide open, giving them a slice of her love and wisdom- yes, wisdom. That was the only word Jake could gather in his head as he thought about the many times he went to her for some form of advice. It was as though she always knew what to say and what to do and she gave away her guidance in words put in their simplest and most nonchalant form- she made things sound easy. Her way around deciphering other people’s emotions and steering between the angles of the moral compass was something to look up to.

But she could never use that talent of hers for her good.

It was moments like these that reminded Jake that she was truly just a troubled kid who was fighting to stay afloat despite the rocks bound to her feet. No matter how much maturity and independence she showed, she was just a kid, only starting to learn how to manoeuvre the world of an eighteen-year-old. She held so much baggage, all of which she somehow carried by helping others instead of herself- by trying to fix others and give others a safe space instead of giving it to herself. She used that as her coping method again and again, like fixing a broken tape record over and over again until it couldn’t be saved anymore and Y/N had reached that point- a pathetic and plebeian point in her life.

And now there she was, projecting the trauma, fear and insecurities she acquired from a messy break-up onto Jake, someone she could easily call her best friend.

“I am boring,” she stifled her nose, her knee jerking up and down as a way to soothe her nerves. Jake’s hand shifted from her hands to her knee, exerting enough pressure to stop her habit of fidgeting for the time being.

“You’re everything but boring, Y/N,” he insisted again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening enough to make his knuckles turn the shade of a cloud. “You’re everything- I mean, you’re a goddamn model and a goddamn successful one, too. All at the age of eighteen… How could you call yourself boring?”

“I don’t know,” her statement followed another sharply inhaled breath and he started rubbing circles over her knee with his thumb. “Everyone in my life leaves at a point and so will you,” tucking her hair behind her ears, she focused her gaze on Jake’s hand and the way it covered the entire span of her knee and a little bit of her thigh. Small splatters of red painted his knuckles and she wasn’t sure how he trophied them but somehow, it gave his hands somewhat of a character. Her attempt to distract herself, though, didn’t work.

“I’m not gonna leave you,” he breathed and Y/N pulled her lip between her teeth, eyes darting from what she was previously concentrating on and the innocent yet sincere look on his face.

She didn’t respond to him, letting deja vu wash over her like a bittersweet memory that she would rather be carried away by the tides. Everyone says that, she thought, literally everyone. She could only offer him a blank stare, eyes looking past his shoulder and at the lack of traffic on the roads. In that week, it would be the first time she let herself think of Sam again and her memories with him played in her mind the way home movies played. They were filled with nostalgia, moments she knew would never come back to her because not only was she out of his life, but out of his mind as well. His contact number had disappeared in a sea of other texts and phone numbers and the last time either of them had tried contacting each other was almost a year ago.

It had been a year, and he still had a hold on her emotions.

Jake waited for a response from her but it was the lack of emotion in her eyes and absence of expression on her lips that made him realise. “You’re thinking of Sam, aren’t you?"

With a prompt nod, sadness and grief made their way into the irises of her eyes and her lips quivered downwards into a frown. He promised her many things, all of which were broken but the last thing she expected him to do was completely excuse himself from her life. The thought was so repetitive; it was exasperating.

Jake knew, verbatim, all the false reassurance Sam had given her over the months of their dating.

“I mean it, though” the promise in his voice almost made the frown on her face disappear. “Y/N, I know you’re scared. But please believe me… I’m not gonna leave you. You’re my best friend.”

At that, Y/N lifted her head, eyes widening and mouth gaping. “I am?” She questioned, almost sceptical of his statement despite the way he was eagerly nodding. Her mind wandered to Sunghoon, recalling the way Jake interacted with him and remembering the way he always spoke so highly of him, telling her that he had always been the person he went to for every minuscule problem in his life.

She wanted to question it but decided she had not enough energy to do so.

“You are. Just as I am yours, I promise.”

A part of her wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and rip her hair apart because Sam used to say the same thing to her. Just believe me, just trust me and you’ll be happy- she wished she could erase the memories of her somehow and do justice to the words Jake was uttering to her with so much candour and probity. If it weren’t for the cold of the night digging itself into the depths of her heart, his words would have sparked a campfire to thaw her downcast.

“I don’t know how to make you believe me, but please,” he affirmed. “You don’t need to be scared of losing me. I know Sam said the same shit but please believe me.”

Another moment of silence passed and it was when Y/N cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders that he realised that she was accepting his words. She nodded steadily, forcing her lips into a straight line as she gazed at him through her lashes, his hand sneaking its way back towards hers.

“Do you still not want me to meet your friends?”

A wet laugh escaped from her lips, her eyes softly closing shut as her solemn chuckles filled the heavy air inside the car. Jake smiled with her, the glint in his eyes returning as soon as her mood lifted.

“I’ll introduce them to you on graduation day.”

MUSIC WAS THE GREATEST invention on Earth, according to Y/N. Regardless of whether it was blasting in speakers or flowing between earphones, she could allow herself to drown in the world of wistful vocals and calculated melodies. It was mainly music that aided her through her depressive and suicidal episodes and it was music that caressed her emotions as she fought to bring all the pieces of her personality together. She found that singing along to the songs she found most catchy and listening to them in the car with her friends- moments which only occurred once in a blue moon with her- was the most entertaining. And she also found that listening to orchestral music while studying, walking alone in public or on those rare times she had to take the New York Subway made her feel as though she were in another world, completely separated from everyone else’s opinions and judgements. It was the ultimate form of distraction.

As she sat somewhere in a crowd of students, some classmates of hers she couldn’t even recognise or name, it was the pop music playlist that Maya played through the speakers of the auditorium field that calmed her nerves and distracted her from everyone’s judgement. Though the songs didn’t quite match what a normal graduation ceremony was expected to entail, they brought hearty smiles to everyone’s faces and Y/N sang along with animated hand gestures along with Sheila. People were staring, eyeing their antics as if they were crazy but for the first time in a long time, Y/N didn’t care. It was the last day of school and the thought of everyone worrying about college while she, on the other hand, would delve deeper into her modelling career brought her pride and boosted her ego.

In the row in front of her sat Sam, his dark curls struggling to stay hidden under his graduation cap. The smile on his face brought a sickening churn to her stomach but it left as soon as her gaze landed on his best friend, sitting beside him and commenting on how boring the decorations were and how the entire event would have panned out much better if he and Sam planned it. Sam nodded enthusiastically at him, his cap almost falling off his head. Y/N rolled her eyes at the interaction that seemed all too familiar; all too predictable.

Her family was seated somewhere in the back amongst the other parents and family members that were attending. Jake sat with them, a camera in his hands ready to capture the moment Y/N would appear on stage, accepting her graduation certificate and shaking hands with the principal. Hues of purple and blue decorated the stage, the school principal- whom Y/N spoke concerningly low of- holding a mic and slowly speaking out a speech of gratitude towards the students, staff and education system, briefly speaking of how proud she was of her students.

Y/N fixed the ends of her graduation gown, its material matching the colours of the decorative balloons, streamers and banners. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as her eyes scanned the premises, vast four walls seemingly pulling closer and closer by the minute and she knew that this would be the last time she would ever sit in the auditorium. It would be the last time she would sit in the same room as the rest of her classmates and it would be the last time she saw the face of her insufferable principal. She remembered all the memories she made there- the shit-show of a performance her drama club put on for Shakespeare’s As You Like It, the many games of tag she played with her friends, the limited number of badminton games she played with Sam and the gut-wrenching exam papers she wrote in this very auditorium. She would never relive those memories again, all of them confined in the walls of this school- the same walls other students would make their own memories and history within. It was all too daunting at that moment but her attention was peeled away as the student body president was called on stage to give his speech.

The next few hours played out like a montage, each student walking up the stage and accepting their certificates with toothy smiles that couldn’t be differentiated between genuine and fake. Amongst the many waves of emotions- happiness, grief, excitement, nostalgia, dread, and so much more- pop music was replaced by an orchestra of violin and harp melodies. Flower petals of pink, white and purple were thrown in the air, followed by their graduation caps as their hollers reached a crescendo. Everyone was taking pictures, some with their friend groups and others in front of the huge banner that read CONGRATULATIONS CLASS OF 22’ and Y/N found herself amongst her classmates, hugging everyone and exchanging goodbyes. She wondered if they were genuine when they asked her to stay in touch and she wondered if they meant when they said they would miss her- because she knew she would put everyone she knew from high school behind and never look back. She knew whatever promises she made wouldn’t be kept and she assumed the same went for everyone else.

It was announced that the parents and students were expected to escort themselves to the football field and Y/N pushed her way through the crowd until she saw her parents, greeting them with a wide smile. She waved her rolled-up certificate above her head, almost as if she were saying look, I barely studied and graduated high school with flying colours! It was the same expression a boy would have while swinging on a swing and saying look mom, I can fly and it was the same expression a girl would have while dressing up and saying daddy, I look like a princess. Jake hugged her, whispering in her ear about how proud he was. He showed her the pictures he took of her while walking to the field, gripping the averagely-sized Canon camera her family had been using since she could remember, one that they bought while they were still in China.

There were designated round tables laid out around the field; Y/N and her family were quick to find their seats. As discussions about her future flowed through them, all Y/N could think about was that she would finally be free of exams and textbooks for a few more months, and maybe years until she decides to go to college.

“What do you plan on studying if you do end up going to college, then?” Her mother asked, intently looking at her daughter.

“Probably psychology,” Y/N nodded, the smile that entered her lips as she accepted her high school diploma never leaving.

Her parents didn’t know when the last time it was that they saw her smiling for such an extended period of time. They wondered if it was because she was proud of herself for doing so well in high school, garnering more recommendation letters than most students and scoring well in her final exams all the while juggling her squeaky-clean modelling career. From the outside, it looked like success was handed to her on a silver plate and a huge part of Y/N thought the same. There were students that were jealous of her and students that insisted that her recommendation letters were only written for her because she was famous- which, in all honesty, could have been true. But perhaps, that day, Jake was the only one that knew her happiness stemmed from the fact that she would never have to step foot into this school again and she would never have to see the faces of those who wronged her.

“Isn’t it better to study something worthwhile?” Her father offered. “Perhaps MBA?”

“Who said psychology wasn’t worthwhile?” Y/N let out an animated gasp, widening her eyes out of a sheer necessity to make a joke and her mother and Jake laughed.

Jake patted her back, fingers lingering on the smooth fabric of her graduation gown. “Whatever it is, it’s better to go to college in case you decide not to pursue modelling anymore.” His gaze lingered on her smile for a few minutes, strands of his hair falling onto his forehead and touching his lashes.

He had a point. Y/N's goal was never to come to the status she was at, thinking that modelling for local clothes shops or irrelevant runways would be enough. But in the past few months, she’d been showing up on the covers of famous magazines and Tony was telling her how she could be potentially booked for the next runway show displaying the upcoming designs of Supriya Lele, a designer whom tabloids described as bold and vibrant, mixing her heritage of Indian fashion with the modern preference. If there was one thing Y/N knew about herself, it was that her interests spanned, varied and changed throughout her life. When she was young, her dream was to become a geologist, fascinated by the world of minerals and precious stones she saw her mother wear on her neck and ears. Now, at eighteen, though she had confirmed that she would pursue psychology if she ever went to college, she also knew that pieces of her wanted to dwell deeper into the oceans of knowledge marine biology could offer her or the talents of what a major in English could epitomise in her. Who was to say that she wouldn’t lose interest in modelling?

“I promised I’d introduce you to my friends, didn’t I?” Y/N glanced towards Jake, voice deafening into a whisper as her parents drawled into their own conversation. Jake nodded with a little amount of glee, allowing her to clasp his hand and drag him away to various different tables.

The next half hour or so was filled with greetings and small talk and awkward confrontations from her friends. Jake found that there was a formula to introducing himself to each and every one of your friends. It would always start with a handshake and exaggerated smiles from both parties, followed by Y/N telling them his name and this is the guy I told you about. Then followed the basic questions of his age and where he was from and admiring his Korean heritage, some even being dumb enough to ask him if he knew any kpop stars personally. He had to fight off the urge to play tricks and make jokes and say “Oh yeah, I’m quite close with Stray Kids’ Hyunjin and BTS’ Taehyung.” Some even asked him to speak in Korean. Once Y/N felt that the conversation was fizzling away, she would drag him away to the next friend and hope that the exchange would be more engaging than the last.

It was like speed dating- but worse.

There were a few things Jake learned in between meeting her friends and subtly getting to know them. One was that apart from Sheila, no one else knew much about Y/N- not what she did on a daily basis, her interests or what was going on in her life, excluding what the media had to offer about her career. She knew more about them than vice versa. He learned that she only allowed people to see what she wanted them to see, everything tucked away under layers and layers of what could only be called distractions to what really comprised her. The second was that to whoever she guided him to, she would always avoid walking past Sam, always sucking in a breath when she did come too close to him or caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. But her smile never faltered and her voice never wavered as she continued speaking and willing herself to look in any direction but towards her ex. The third was that he didn’t see Y/N wearing that mask of hers, the one which caused her to walk so confidently and her eyes to be judgemental. Instead, on school grounds, amongst people that partially watched her grow up, she was almost childlike, her strut juvenile as it had a bounce to it and her laugh ringing louder than a school bell while she stood with those she claimed she trusted most.

Y/N dragged him towards Veronica, promising that she was the last person he had to meet and he followed her with a sigh. Veronica was headstrong, sass displayed in her mannerisms and body language and it paired with her innocent smiles and profound facial expressions, she could either be described as dangerous or laughable. Jake had asked what her plans were after graduation and though he already knew the answer through Y/N, he still listened to her blabber about NASA and her dilemma of choosing between two prestigious colleges.

“My parents think I should go to Cornell but I prefer…”

Her voice blew away with the passing wind, gaze focusing past Y/N’s shoulder with a slightly gaped mouth and quivering lips, but her expression straightened faster than it had faltered. The air visibly shifted as the group of three acknowledged Sam walking towards them, lips pursed in a thin line while waving his hand in the air. Y/N stiffened her arms, hands balling into fists as she sucked in a breath and forced out a smile and Veronica happily greeted him. The boy's steps were cautious, looking between Veronica, Y/N and Jake as he approached them. Jake followed every step he took, eyes sharpening and jaw clenching with a sudden surge of wrath.

The way Y/N shuffled closer to Jake didn’t go unnoticed by anyone and it was her fingers brushing over his bicep that made him take a deep breath and unclench his jaw, keeping his anger in control but God forbid Sam said or made her feel dolorous- the day wouldn’t end well.

“What’s up, guys?” Sam grinned forcibly, his hand resting on the table as he turned towards Veronica. “You’re coming for dinner with us later, right?”

Veronica nodded, shifting her head towards Y/N almost in a panicked manner. “Are you-”

“Arnold told me I could join, but I’d rather not,” Y/N grit her teeth, eyes boring a hole into Veronica and she almost flinched back, coaxing an expression of discomfort.

“Why?” Veronica cocked her head.

“Rather celebrate with Jake.”

“Who?” Sam’s brows pulled together, his gaze finally falling on Y/N. He looked her up and down, almost as though he was judging her in some way. Then, he looked at Jake, his expression contorting into realisation. His brows raised and said, “Oh, you’re Jake?” In an almost excited manner before stretching his hand in front of himself.

Jake didn’t reciprocate, moving to cross his arms instead and continue glaring at the boy, wondering what it was about him that made Y/N fall head over heels for him; what it was that caused such immense attachment with someone that only had to offer an attitude and arrogance. He didn’t seem to have an ounce of consideration within him, emitting only narcissism and self-gratification about him. Perhaps there was a time when he treated Y/N as though she was the most important thing in the world, but what could guarantee the authenticity of his actions? Especially knowing that he managed to get into another relationship within two weeks of their breakup, there was no way Jake would believe that the boy with curly hair and careless eyes that stood in front of him could take care of Y/N the way he did.

“Okay,” Sam trailed off, retrieving his arm and clasping his hands together to wave off the tension building amongst them. “What plans do you have then?” His gaze returned to Y/N, or rather, his gaze hovered amongst the surroundings around her but his voice was directed to her regardless.

Before Y/N even had a chance to put the words and letters in her head to form a response, Jake had already let out a scoff, glaring daggers in Sam’s direction. “It’s none of your business,” he seethed and everyone standing around the tables snapped their heads towards him in shock.

In all the months Y/N had spent time with Jake, this would be the first time she understood what the media and tabloids meant when they reported lowly on his personality. She realised what they recognised as attitude was, in reality, anger and she realised that he would rather be compliant to those that showed interest in him rather than expect a personal gain out of him for themselves. Speaking with reporters and paparazzi would bring out the worst in him, yet he was the most respectful and well-raised man around the people he worked alongside- the photographers, designers and many other models he worked with all had nothing but compliments to shower over his personality. She understood why different groups of people had different opinions and judgements concerning him.

“Dude, I was just trying to be nice,” Sam’s hands raised in defence, taking a step back as he tittered. His head tilted to the side, eyes widening as he saw him taking a step forward. Y/N did nothing to stop him, holding herself back and biting her lips, watching as if she wanted a scene to unfold.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”

If it weren’t for Veronica’s cough and warning of teachers watching, perhaps Jake would have held Sam by his collar and punched his jaw. The girl waved him off, nudging his shoulder and pushing him back, almost begging him to go away before all the parents got themselves involved. The three students could almost sense the watchful eyes of their principal and counsellor and with the fear of getting in trouble on graduation day, especially when his parents were on school grounds, Sam walked away. His strides slow with his head hanging down, he made his way towards a group of few boys and girls sitting on the bleachers, phones raised in the air as they took pictures. It had always been a trait of his, to be scared of getting into trouble with the teachers. It was that very trait of his that had nettled Y/N to her bones, wondering why he cared so much because she, as a girl with parents that were stricter than most, couldn’t give much thought to them.

Veronica had excused herself, jogging towards the same group Sam found himself sitting in between. Y/N tugged at the sleeve of Jake’s shirt, wary eyes scanning over his face- his face that still housed an expression of fury and indignation. “We should go back to our table,” he heard her say and through his fit of white rage, he nodded and stomped to where her parents were.

“You were never part of that friend group?” Jake nodded towards where Veronica and Sam were, eyeing their group’s antics and deeming them as annoying only within a few seconds.

“Nope,” Y/N shook her head, pursing her lips as she looped her arm with his.

“They seem cringe,” he offered her a grin, lips tugging upwards ever so slightly as the anger in him slowly diminished at the sight of her smiling back at him. “Not worth it.”

“Agreed.”

Sheila left her parents and brothers at her table, bolting towards Y/N as though she had just been attacked. Even with the solemn smile Y/N assured her with, she still refused to leave her side and stayed chit-chatting with her for the rest of the ceremony, leaving Jake to converse with her parents. The fleeting incident of rage was forgotten, as far as Y/N was concerned. For a little while, just for a little while, she could enjoy the moment; a glass of watermelon juice in her hand, a nostalgic conversation shared with her best friend, the late summer breeze wafting the scent of freshly cut grass towards them as their graduation gowns blew with the wind, their hair tangling up. They were probably some of the last few people left on the field. People were already starting to clean the premises of discarded debris and the afternoon lurked closer with the decreasing temperature.

“Can we get something to eat?” Sheila asked, shielding the sun from her face with a hand over her head. “People are leaving now anyway.”

Y/N and Sheila found themselves peeking out of the sunroof of Jake”s car, their arms thrusting in the air in triumph and wind blowing their hair into a mess, screaming words of joy. Jake was driving towards a destination Sheila had requested. Take me to one of the restaurants the paparazzi always catch you at, and with a chuckle from the other two, they were off. This led to an afternoon of peace- which seemed to be what Jake, or anyone, felt under the shade of Y/N’s company- while sitting at a corner booth of an Italian restaurant that the pair had visited more than a couple of times and Sheila was thrilled.

Y/N and Jake discovered the restaurant on a night with stormy weather and were too tired to keep driving after a day spent at the gym and practising walking a runway. With the unfortunate luck of not having an umbrella, Jake held up his grey trench coat to cover their heads and ran across the street before they were drenched enough to catch any sickness. In front of them stood the cosy Italian cuisine restaurant which could easily be mistaken for a bar. It had empty bottles of beer strung with fairy lights across its roof and sets of white chairs and tables lining the ins and out of its small dimensions, a huge masonry oven greeting every customer as they walked it. The pair deemed the eatery as one of New York City’s many hidden gems and they were sure Sheila would feel the same once she tasted their Tortellini.

The afternoon consisted of the two girls taking many pictures while Jake joked about them, Sheila moaning about how sumptuous the food tasted, sharing jokes and riddles than made their stomachs clench with laughter and discussions on the many anecdotes and incidents that would go down in their high school’s history. Y/N and Sheila had sat there and broke down how and why their school was both the most magical yet hysterical and deplorable and it was a speech Jake had heard from Y/N many times but as she explained it with her best friend, he could almost see the auras of stress and hatred she held seeping out of her.

In that hour, he heard the stories of how the two girls became friends and how they drifted from people they thought would be in their lives forever. They told him about how there was once a time when their lives in school were so lively that they documented their days in books and how those interludes turned into a living hell. Yet, what made Jake happy was that at least they had each other to lean on, a familiar face to look for amongst a crown of inevitable strangers.

“You know, before this bitch become a hotshot model, we planned on going to the same university and everything,” Sheila wrapped her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and pulled her towards her until their cheeks touched.

Y/N’s smile turned into a toothy grin, her nose scrunching under Jake’s surprised gaze. This was surely something she hadn’t mentioned before and he wondered if wanting to know someone down to the atoms of their existence was even possible. No, he wasn’t mad, nor was he unhappy that there was such a mundane piece of information about her that he didn’t know of, but he wondered just how many plans she made in her life that could never fall through- how many plans in his life that never fell through. He supposed that was what life could be defined as; the things that were and the things that could have been; dreams, hopes and expectations crushed by reality from diamond to dust.

But was the dust really that bad? He ended up becoming a model, after all, one of the best up-and-coming models. Somewhere along the process, he met Y/N and in his opinion, there wasn’t much else he could ask for apart from hoping that whatever it was that he felt for her, she felt the same way. He was hoping she would reciprocate the longing stares and hope-filled compliments and he was hoping that someday, she would feel the warmth and serenity he felt around her. As he looked at her from across the table, his fork raised to fill his mouth with another piece of pasta, Y/N was holding her phone and leaning into Sheila’s side, laughing about some meme they could relate to and in that moment, he thought he could ask for nothing more than her hand for the rest of his life.

“It’s getting late, aren’t you supposed to be home soon?” Y/N piped, licking the white sauce of her carbonara off her lips and holding Sheila’s hand tighter, almost afraid to let go. But she would never say it out loud, willing herself to let another good day come to an end.

Sheila nodded, offering Y/N a hesitant smile. “Can’t we just stay for a little longer?” She whined.

Y/N chuckled, assuming that Sheila felt the same as she did at that moment. “You’re acting like we’re never gonna see each other again.”

“Who knows when we’re gonna meet again!”

“Your university isn’t that far away. We can literally meet up whenever we want.”

With the assurance and final hugs of we’re not in high school anymore, they dropped Sheila off at her house.

Y/N would spend the night at Jake’s apartment as an extended celebration of her graduation. Sunghoon and Jay showed up, regretful of the fact that they came bearing excuses from those who couldn’t arrive. Heeseung had an exam to prepare for, so risking a night drinking wouldn’t be responsible for him. Sunoo was in the middle of writing his college exams, so with all the stress piling on his shoulders all day, he started passing out early and having longer nights of sleep- which sounded like heaven to them. Riki and Jungwon were on a school field trip to Boston to venture and explore the many museums and art galleries it housed- it was a humanities trip.

Jay brought Y/N a gift of a fancy bottle of wine, one from the eighties that he had taken from his dad’s wine cellar. Sunghoon had supplied an almost unlimited supply of cans of beer and it was on those that he, Jay and Jake indulged in and Y/N refused to drink alcohol before she hit legal age.

It rained that night, a soft drizzle of rain turning into droplets of water hitting the vast windows of Jake’s apartment as thunder started rumbling. The entire balcony was soaked, as was the growing plant of Devil’s Ivy- Y/N had forced him to buy it around two weeks ago, insisting that he start a collection of plants on his balcony and the Devil’s Ivy would be the first addition. He would let her pick the next plant to buy and the one after that and the one after that because something about seeing her decorating his apartment brought immense pleasure to him.

The four of them played various board games that night; Snakes and Ladders, Pictionary and even Monopoly. At one point, they were caught up in a screaming match while arguing about the rules of UNO which slowly transitioned into a messy game of dumb charades. Somewhere between Jake drawing a terrible rendition of a wolf in a tutu and sometime past midnight, Sunghoon had gotten shamelessly drunk and Jake had gotten tipsy, but he quickly sobered up with a single cup of coffee. Y/N and Jay were left to take care of Sunghoon while Jake lay beside him in bed, a massive headache eating away at his skull and banging against his temples.

Y/N knew Sunghoon as the quiet, shy and skittish boy everyone would admire from afar and his habit of drinking wasn’t exactly a surprise but seeing him laid in bed, pushing and kicking his blanket away while babbling incoherent strings of words brought out a whole new perspective of him. It was an endless cycle of Jay covering his frame with a blanket, only for it to be flung off his body and Y/N was trying to talk the boy down with words that, in the end, meant nothing. Sunghoon blabbered about how his love life was so dry lately and how none of his relationships could last, even those that seemed perfect with women that he thought would be the love of his life. Though normally, it was a sight Y/N would laugh at, at that moment, she found herself empathising with him and her expression was glitching, faltering off her face.

“You know how moles have meanings?” Sunghoon babbled, slapping his hand onto his pale forehead.

“Yeah,” Jay sighed, giving up on the blanket and kneeling on the side of the bed. He rested his elbows on the mattress, hands holding his chin up.

“So, I have a mole on my right pinky toe,” he started and Y/N nodded as if she were amused. Jay hummed along to his words as if he were interested. “One day I was bored and I decided to google the meaning. Guess what it said?”

“What?” Jay asked.

“I said guess!”

With another sigh, Jay swallowed and made his best guess. “That you’ll get fortunate in life?”

“No!” Sunghoon flailed his arms in the air, then huffed as he fisted the ends of the blanket that was resting at his hips. “Google said that I’ll always face issues in my love life and marital life,” he frowned in an almost child-like manner, tilting his head towards Jay as though he was asking for pity. “So I’m basically never going to find true love.”

“‘Hoon,” Jay clicked his tongue. “Don’t believe what the internet says and just sleep will you?” He brought the blanket up to his chin again, only for it to be strewn across the room.

This time, Sunghoon yelled curses in Korean.

Y/N found herself chuckling, hiding her laugh behind her hand and Jay looked over his shoulder with eyes squinting to slits. She hurried out a few apologies, raising her arms in defence and taking a few steps back. Jay didn’t know how many times he sighed that night but if he had to be grateful for anything, it was Jake’s slumber and Y/N’s patience to deal with drunk people.

“You should try sleeping, Y/N,” he offered, noticing her eyelids fluttering shut every few minutes. “You’ve had a long day.”

“It’s alright,” she walked backwards until she reached the giant bean bag sitting at the corner of the room, beside the balcony. Her hands rested behind her head, her legs crossing as she smirked at Jay. “I’ll stay awake until Sunghoon and you fall asleep.”

Jay grinned. “Alright, hotshot.”

Her promise was broken because within five minutes, she had drifted asleep while curled up on the soft, cloudy bean bag.

It was due to a loud crack of thunder that Jake sprung out of bed, cold sweat trickling down the side of his face and his chest heaved with a lack of breath. He had just woken up from a dream, one where he was back at Y/N’s high school again and had fulfilled his urge to beat Sam to a pulp. In this dream, Y/N was crying in Sheila’s shoulder, crying about how she was scared she would never love another or another would never love her and then he was holding Sam by the collar, yelling profanities at him- profanities that begged why he broke a beautiful soul, why he tore the livelihood of a girl with so much potential for life. Just as Jake was about to confess his love for her, he woke up. It was a terrible, nerve-wracking dream.

Another bolt of thunder let him blink, his head turning to look around the room. Sunghoon snored beside him, his legs strewn in an awkward yet seemingly comfortable manner. Jay was asleep on a chair beside Sunghoon, holding a pillow close to his chest as his head nodded onto his shoulder. Y/N was sleeping on his beloved bean bag, one that she had grown fond of throughout the many times she had visited his apartment. She was curled up, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning her head onto the glass of the balcony window. Her brows were furrowed, though, as if she were caught up in a dream- her lips occasionally twitched. Jake didn’t think much of it and slipped out of his bed, ignoring the way Sunghoon mumbled nonsense in his sleep.

Jake padded towards his kitchen, preparing to make himself ramen as a midnight snack. He added spam and an egg and even added a slice of cheese to it because he knew Y/N liked her ramen that way and he also knew she always got happy when he ate something she liked. His ramen was accompanied by a cup of tea, holding a mug and a ramen bowl in either hand as he walked back to his room and set his food beside the bean bag Y/N was nuzzled in. He brought her a blanket, draping it over a frame and smiling as she pulled it closer to her with a hum- her brows unfurrowed. He pondered for a while, eyes never leaving her now peaceful state with crossed arms and debating what to do next until he was sleepy again.

He didn’t know what exactly he was thinking but he knew he was thinking about Y/N. She was a topic that occupied the many nooks and crannies of his brain for many months and he wasn’t complaining. He was just growing impatient now, praying harder and harder every day that someday, she would be his; that someday, he could call her his own. As he kneeled down to reach her level, taking her nimble hand in his, he leaned toward her forehead to plant a feather-like kiss. His lips stayed on her skin, a sensation so soft yet so warm it made him feel fuzzy and he finally understood what the poets meant with their word choice. It would be the first time he kissed her in any form and he decided he liked it- the feeling of her skin on his lips. And he decided he would do it more often and form it a habit.

Y/N had habits of her own to project on Jake. She refused to finish any chocolate she ate without asking if Jake wanted any and she always wished him a good morning and good night no matter the circumstances. Wherever she went without him, she’d buy him a bracelet or any small trinket as a souvenir. She had gone to a few beaches with her family for vacation and she brought him back sea shells- Jake still had everything she ever gave him, tucked away in a drawer or scattered across his shelves. Jake, out of love, had a few habits of his own like always calling her or sending her a few texts every day, even on days that they were too busy for themselves. Whenever he saw a vibrant flower, he would pluck it and slide it in her hair, behind her ear. He would never watch a movie or show without asking if she wanted to watch it with him because he knew how much she liked watching things with other people- and her answer was usually always yes. Jake always bought her rings or bracelets or necklaces- some type of jewellery- whenever he found the chance because her love for them was uncanny. One could never find Y/N Y/L/N without rings or bracelets on her hand and earrings dangling on her ears.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised his friendship with her sounded like what she described her and Sam used to be but a huge part of Jake couldn’t care. Because now, she didn’t wish for Sam back and she gave Jake what she couldn’t give anyone else and he was giving her what she didn’t get but craved and deserved. Consistency.

Anyone that loves you is gonna take care of you this way, Y/N. Anyone that loves you is gonna treat you the way he used to. There was nothing special about that. Jake was special because he refused to leave. No matter how much she hurt him and no matter how much he lost hope in finding requited love in her, he would never leave and he would never change.

As thunder decreased, he slid into the leftover space on the bean bag, draping the little amount of blanket left on his lap. With one hand holding his tea and the other his phone, he smiled to himself, feeling the warmth of her arm on his. He would stay in that position until he drifted asleep, his head leaning on her shoulder and arms intertwined.

WITHIN TWO WEEKS OF her graduation, Y/N moved out of her parents' house. She bought an apartment of her own, one that was closer to Jake’s apartment and Sheila’s university. With extensive help from Jay, whose dad had connections with house brokers and Tony, who bargained his way to a cheap amount, Y/N had managed to buy an apartment with her savings and a little more money from her parents. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large enough kitchen to fit three people. But most important of all was her balcony. Her huge balcony, which could fit an entire sofa set on its own, was her favourite aspect of her new home and she already knew she would spend most of her free time there.

She decided to paint her apartment on her own, deeming appointing painters from outside would be too expensive. Some days, she would paint alone and other days, Jake would be there to help, or Sheila or her parents. She didn’t let anyone else even know she had an apartment of her own, cutting off all contact with everyone from high school. Jake’s friends would come over sometimes too, bringing housewarming gifts in the form of new bed sheets, throw pillows or paintings found in flea markets. In about a month, her apartment would be ready, fully painted and furnished, decorated in a manner that fulfilled her dreams of having her own place to live.

The walls were painted a dark shade of brown, a shade so dark that it would be impossible to tell its colour unless the morning rays of sunshine hit the paint. The kitchen, on the other hand, stayed dull ivory and her average-sized fridge would always be stocked with drinks and cake, along with her favourite vegetables to cook. Her pantry was always filled with snacks and fruits, not because she would have guests around all the time but because she had a habit of eating when bored or stressed. She made a hobby of collecting different flavours of pop tarts and cereals and Jake even made fun of her for it.

The first few days of living alone were daunting. There were nights when Jake or her parents couldn’t stay over because they were busy or were too tired to drive and there were nights when she couldn’t even sleep. Y/N over thought a lot. Being alone didn’t do her any good but one day, Sheila called her in the middle of the night to check up on her and with that conversation, she knew that she could do it. She knew that being entirely independent of then on wouldn’t be an issue. Jake was half an hour away from her house and Sheila’s dorm was forty-five minutes away. Tony would regularly spend time with her while she worked and sometimes when she got back home, Jake would be sitting on her couch with two bowls of ramen, waiting for her company.

Life got better as she settled in. She wished life would stay as simple as this forever- her, her parents, a couple of friends and a well-paying job.

She had decorated her balcony with a few cushioned chairs and a swing, potted vine plants in the opposite corner. Sitting on the swing and reading became her favourite pass time when she was home alone. She would have her laptop with her sometimes, either watching something while sipping coffee or writing the next preposterous story she conjured up. She let the bustle of New York become the background music to her life and watched the sun set and rise sometimes and it quickly became a lifestyle. Jake would be with her sometimes, leaning against the railings and watching the moon rise and fall with her. Sometimes they would be talking, sometimes they stood in complete silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Riki and Jungwon visited her apartment a lot. Their dancing and karate classes were ten minutes away from where she lived and they would walk over to her apartment. They usually took naps to recharge before going back home and starting their school work. Other times, they would eat whatever food Y/N would graciously prepare for them. If they were feeling energetic, they’d ramble about their days, and tell her the most mundane things that happened and Y/N would listen to them like she were their guardian angel and she listened with a bright smile on her face and no complaints. Heeseung would pick them up to take home but other times it would be Jay, Sunghoon or Sunoo. It was rare that Jake was asked to pick them up and drop them home- he was only called in emergencies.

Once Y/N finally bought a car, she was the one dropping the kids home. She had to save up for a few more months but she bought a car and her life would be complete once she had enough money to buy a bike. She didn’t need Tony to pick her up for errands anymore and that brought her to the reality of becoming a full-fledged independent adult. It wasn’t the fact that she had to buy groceries alone, sleep alone and manage her schedule herself, shower and brush her teeth without her parents having to pester her for it- no, she realised she was growing up when Tony no longer had to pick her up anymore. Because she had a car and now she knew why everyone was furious over gas prices increasing and understood the frustration of traffic.

Suddenly, she was just a normal person with no baggage from failed relationships and drifted friendships. She was simply an adult with issues about gas and water bills and figuring out what to cook for dinner, all the while making ample amounts of money.

She felt normal. She felt great.

Going on late-night drives became another one of her acquired habits, easing into her nightly routines on times she couldn’t fall asleep. She would water her plants, close all the windows, prepare the ingredients of what she wanted for breakfast and respond to whatever emails Tony forwarded to her before mounting in her car and driving off into an abyss of lights, noise, a blanket of stars and a carpet of tar. That night would be no different, knuckles curling around the familiar steering wheel and she found herself on the highway amongst other cars and trucks and a few rare sightings of bike riders. She was smiling, laughing even as she sang along to the radio and enjoyed her own company. For the first time in a long time, she was able to enjoy doing things on her own and laugh on her own and she prayed to God nothing could take that away from her again. She was happy while reading and annotating her books alone, eating alone, watching shows and movies alone, watching the sunset alone and now, she was happy while driving and singing One Direction alone.

Though she was independent and could make reckless decisions, she concluded that driving out of town at an ungodly hour would be a trip uncalled for so she was on her way back home and sitting in the passenger's seat was a big box of chocolate cake she picked up in the only bakery open past midnight. She was stuck at a red light, humming her way through the sixty-second count down and nodding her head to the beat of whatever song played on the radio. She was living on a plane of oblivion until she opened her eyes and looked around the rest of the cars and the rose-coloured glasses slipped right off her view.

Beside hers was a matte black car and in it sat Sam, a grin on his face as he glanced at the girl sitting beside him, his girlfriend- the girl he told Y/N not to worry about.

Suddenly, the world around her came crashing in the form of stiffened bones and pressure beating against her skull. Her body was shaking but she couldn’t move and her hands were stuck to the steering wheel, a gulp tearing down her throat. She felt, to put it simply, awful and she wished she could forget about traffic rules and drive off but she couldn’t and she convinced herself that they were clueless about her presence beside them.

His girlfriend had a ring on her finger and they were kissing while holding hands. They were happy and they were in love and a quick check on Instagram confirmed that they were engaged. Y/N didn’t know how she ended up in front of Jake’s apartment but she was standing there with messy hair and in desperate need to fall into her definition of a perfect limbo again, like she was in only thirty minutes ago.

When Jake heard his doorbell ring, he knew exactly who was standing on the other side but he was never expecting the sudden visit. It was past midnight, he was half asleep and he had an early appointment with an editor in the morning but none of that mattered when his assumption was confirmed once he looked through the peephole. He was still in his sweatpants, a sweaty shirt covering his torso and flattened hair covering his forehead and though she had seen him in states much worse before, a wave of consciousness still took over him and he debated changing before answering the door but then it could be too late and he didn’t want her running off into the night.

He had terrible breath and his eyes could barely stay open due to his sore eyelids but he opened the door anyway and Y/N stood in front of him in all her glory. Her hair was messier than his, strands falling on the sides of her face in soft curls and the rest reaching her waist in waves that reminded him of a messy day at the beach. He knew her natural hair was his favourite style on her but it was the last thing he could focus on when he noticed the pain in her starry eyes. It was a kind of pain he had never seen on her before, it was a kind of pain that made him think she could die of heartbreak anytime soon. She chewed on her lips intensely and her gaze darted around everywhere until it landed on him, skin paled into the glow of a ghost.

“Jake,” she breathed and she sounded as though a shard of glass had pierced through her heart. “They’re engaged.”

“What?” His eyes could finally widen, following her as she walked through his apartment and into his room.

“What?” She exclaimed and her hands were in her hair, gripping the roots as her keys dangled off her index.

Jake stepped towards her, cautious hands in front of him as he attempted to wrap his arms around her. “Y/N-”

“It hurts!” She yelled, flinging the keys across the room and a crack echoed off the walls of his bedroom- it was either a hole in his wall or the break of her car keys.

In all the time Jake knew Y/N, it would be the first time she heard her yell until her voice shrilled. It was the first time he had ever seen her throw something- break something- in an attempt to ease her anger and pain. Since he had known her, she was always true to her belief in working through anger in the form of words rather than violence. The gym or sports was a healthy option she advised but breaking household items and punching other people was something she frowned upon. So, he was surprised when she didn’t stop him from taking another step toward Sam on graduation day, fully aware that he would have punched him if it weren’t for Veronica pushing them apart. And he was surprised now, that Y/N was gripping the roots of her hair and gritting between her teeth, her car keys laying broken in the corner of his bedroom.

The next ten minutes was a montage of her throwing hands and shoving him away as he clasped his arms around her frame. He didn’t know how, but they ended up on the floor, Y/N curled into his chest as she sobbed about how clueless she was about her emotions. She sobbed about how she wished she were a different person and she sobbed about everything she couldn't grieve over in ten minutes and Jake listened to it all while stroking her hair, shedding a few tears of his own as his lips buried in her hair. They didn’t move, simply stayed there as a permanent kiss, shuddering every time she did. And somehow, he carried her to his bed, seating her on the edge of the mattress and he kneeled in front of her while holding her hands in his palms- just the way he let her hold his heart in her palms without her even knowing it.

“I thought you were over him, Y/N,” he sighed, voice flowing in a broken whisper. His head tilted to the floor and he wet with pruned lips. Jake felt the tips of Y/N’s fingers brush over his hair, fixing its parting and nimbly trying to style it as a way of distraction.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” her voice was hoarse, having no other option but to speak lowly and her eyes were puffy. “He’s giving her what I’ve always wanted-”

“Getting engaged right after high school, that’s what you wanted?” He raised his brows, eyes almost judging the words that were slipping out of her mouth.

“No,” she whined, whipping off the stray tears off her cheek. “I wanted consistency, I wanted him to be true to his words and I wanted him to prioritise me but-”

“But he didn’t, Y/N, for fuck’s sake he didn’t,” Jake shifted to sit beside her, voice raising enough to make Y/N flinch. “What’s so special about him?”

“I don’t know, Jake,” she shook her head, sniffling her nose. “I don’t know, I don’t know. Maybe because he offered more to me than anyone in my life. Maybe it’s because I’m scared I’ll never find someone so fitting for me, someone who can read me. I’m scared I’m not capable of loving anyone else. I’m scared someone will never look at me and fall in love with me and I’m scared I’ll never be enough for someone. I’m scared I’m destined to die alone, Jake,” she heaved a breath. “I’m scared I’ll never be anyone's favourite person, I’m scared I’ll never be somebody’s number one. I’m scared I won’t find the person that’ll want to do everything with me.”

“What if that person is right in front of you?”

A little over a year ago, when Jake was introduced to Y/N, his biggest wish was to crumble the walls she had built so high to hide her true identity. His biggest wish was to know her, understand her, befriend her, and have her in some form or the other. Now he had her, crying to him and confiding in him and sharing everything including pieces of her happiness with him but it wasn’t enough. To brush her hair and hold her hands while she was crying over a broken past wasn’t enough but to kiss her lips and lull her to sleep felt more appropriate to him- he wanted more and he wanted to give her more. He craved it more than a kid craved cotton candy and he yearned for it more than a soldier waiting to come back home to family.

Now, she was looking at him with tears brimming her eyes, fresh tears meant for Jake rather than her history. Her lips were in a minuscule parting, teeth peeking out from behind her lips yet her breath was caught in her throat, failing to escape her lungs. She felt his every move, the way his fingers weaved with hers, the way his eyes darted between the changes in her features and the way his breaths were heavier as he moved to sit closer to her, anticipating a viable reaction from her. Y/N couldn’t help but feel deja vu as she let his stare weigh her down, bringing her back to the day they met at GQ’s headquarters and when he asked her to go to a cafe with him. At the time, she would admit that she expected more than friendship from him but as they grew closer and became increasingly important figures in each other's lives, whatever hopes and expectations she had in him were suppressed and the reassurance of a constant figure surfaced.

“I want to do everything with you, Y/N,” Jake continued, knowing that she was too in shock to give any response to him. “And it hurts me every time you think or talk or mention or cry about Sam because what is it that I don’t have? What has he given you that I couldn’t in the past year? What is so goddamn special about a guy that fucking left you? I stayed because you’re you and I stayed because you make me so damn happy. You’re my favourite person. You’re the person I want to be beside while doing everything, you’re the person I’m excited to talk to at the end of the day and you're the person I prioritise over anyone else-”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

There was so much desperation in his voice, an ample amount of fear that made Y/N’s knees weak. He was scared because there was a chance she could stand up and walk away without a word, there was a chance she would push him away and there was a chance she could laugh at his face and list out everything that made him unworthy of her but instead, all he got was glassy, doll-like eyes darting across his features robotically, as though she was reading every strand of DNA in his fibres. If it weren’t for the grazing sounds of the curtains dancing with the wind, he thought he could explode in the silence- perhaps the silence was a loud enough answer, which Jake refused to accept. In every beat of his heart, he could feel the essence of his soul slipping away from his being; like her response ruled his life or death.

The silver rays of the moon illuminated a purple hue on her face, reflecting the violets of the curtains. He thought, if they were in a photography studio, he would be quipping stills of her from all the angles she looked beautiful in and he would print his favourite picture out and hang it up on his wall. He could see her lips quiver as the wheels in her head turned, the fog in her eyes setting as though she was letting another wall crumble.

Jake felt the world around him spin and his bed suddenly felt like heavenly clouds and his room transformed into light blue skies as her hand tightened in his. He was floating, body suspended in thin air but Y/N was stuck to the same spot in his bed, unknown to the breeze he felt flowing through his floating hair and lifting shirt- it almost felt like he was in a cartoon, flying around between clouds and flocks of birds. He could see the line that drew between reality and fantasy, light blue contrasting with the darkness in his room, and he had to wait until he would be sucked back in again.

“Keep it that way,” she said.

“What?”

“Everything you just said. Keep it that way and I’m all yours,” her words were a timid whisper. A rush of blood gushed to her cheeks as she almost embarrassingly made eye contact with Jake. It sounded as though she had said those words millions of times before, as though she had rehearsed it, again and again, to be said at the perfect moment. Jake had to wonder if she thought about this, him, as much as he did her.

Nothing made sense to him, nor was he going to ask questions.

In a fleeting moment, Jake felt like his soul flung back into his body like he was waking up from a dream of falling off a building. He fell back, head nestled into the plethora of pillows near his headboard and back settling into the mattress and hovering above him was Y/N, a confused grin about her expression which she couldn’t control and her hands stuck to the pillow on either side of his head. He wasn’t sure how they found themselves in their predicament but his hands were gripping her waist like his life depended on it and if he wiggled his pinky finger, he would be able to feel her warm skin under her white shirt.

“Say that again,” Jake’s lips parted, his breath close enough to fan against her neck and his nose close enough to touch hers.

“Say what?” She asked, pulling her bottom lip between her top teeth while he wondered if the shade of innocence on her face was a simple act she put up.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he breathed.

“That I’m all yours?”

“Exactly.”

Jake was flipping them over, a light yelp of surprise as Y/N’s head hit the pillows and he hovered over her, positions exchanged between them. His breath was heaving, hair falling over his forehead and lips parting, then pursing in a continuous loop while she wondered what he was planning on doing. The world around them froze, the curtains floating in a ghastly position and the moon pausing its process of setting. They couldn’t hear cars or trucks and they couldn’t hear the air conditioning. All that mattered was their breath and the way their heartbeats synced along with their levels of anticipation.

She felt his hand on the side of her face, knuckles brushing away strands of coiled hair and exposing more of the fatigue in her eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you,” Jake whispered and Y/N gulped, nodding with hooded eyes. “And I’ll be damned if you think of anyone other than me,” and without thinking, letting a surge of adrenaline shoot up his spine, he leaned forward and their lips finally, finally, touched.

It was only a peck, a kiss long enough for Jake to feel the carve of her lips and for Y/N to relish in the feeling of butterflies and a foggy head. Her eyes fluttered shut and she stayed in her position as he pulled away, taking a moment to examine her features, soft and tranquil as she waited for more with a rising chest. Jake had been waiting for this moment since the day he laid his eyes on her, since the day he learned her name and since the day he had dubbed her an important person in his life. And the moment was perfect, regardless of the salt tracks on her cheeks and regardless of the hatred he held for the reason for her tears.

Then, he lowered his head again, eyes screwing shut and his lips touching hers for the second time and all sense of time was lost. They kissed like the act brought then oxygen, an intensity filled with sucked-in breaths and fighting tongues, lips refusing to part no matter who was pulling away. Their legs tangled and their hands held each other as though they were the last two people in an ending world. His fingers combed through her hair and he held her jaw, then wrapped his fingers around her neck as he adjusted himself to kiss her comfortably.

He held her softly like she were a feather, skimming the tips of his fingers over her skin before kissing every inch of her, parted lips painting pink and blue bruises onto parts of her chest that would be hidden later. She moaned for him and she moaned his name and he was proving to her that she was capable of loving him just as much as he loved her and he was proving to her just how much he worshipped her with cautious yet feral actions. They weren’t robotic, moving in a synced flow as if they knew exactly what the other was going to do.

And it was perfect, like how anyone would imagine their first time with their true loves to be. Only, these lovers were lucky enough to acquire it.

Words could not describe the euphoria Jake felt that night while he held her to his chest, her fingers drawing meaningless shapes on his shoulder with her hair sprawled across the pillow. His fingers trailed up and down her arm while he spoke about his year-long pining towards her, all his dreams and fantasies of taking her on dates and bringing her flowers and waking up to her every morning. Y/N hummed along, a soft smile on her face as she pressed her cheek into his chest, occasionally piping about how much she'd love to go to an art gallery or the aquarium with him because, in all honesty, she had also imagined rendezvousing to the same places with him. For Jake, having her bare and vulnerable on him and giving him her all was another dream come true.

"You know, I've been thinking of taking up photography," he mused, placing yet another kiss on her forehead.

"Oh, yeah?" Y/N grinned in glee, a twinkle in her eyes. "You should, you can become the next top photographer," she giggled.

The thought popped into his head a little while after Y/N's graduation day. The pictures he had taken of her and the ambience around were praised by everyone he had shown them to, especially Riki, an avid photography enthusiast himself. He had told him that the pictures were worthy enough to be published in magazines and made into billboards and if he mastered a few tricks on editing, he'd be a professional in no time. Since then, he wouldn’t go anywhere without his newly bought camera, taking pictures with the most effort he could. His muse was usually Y/N and other times, he would be taking pictures of Sunghoon or Jungwon.

Y/N had noticed his new interest and fondness for photography around a month ago when they went shopping for carpets and bedsheets. They were at a furniture store Jay had directed them to visit and he brought his camera, taking random pictures of people on the street and candid pictures of her picking through an array of carpets and fabrics. He had even asked her to model and strike a few poses, which she did with laughter as people eyed the pair with judgement. A few pictures later, it got awkward and they moved on to the next store but Y/n was not surprised at all that he was now thinking of studying photography. But, she was excited for him and they would celebrate it with the cake that was forgotten in her car.

Modelling didn't bring Jake the same thrill it did three years ago. It had become a norm for him, a lifestyle he had no plans of escaping for the next few years. Maybe he’d venture into the world of acting or singing or maybe even start a modelling firm of his own, but at the moment, as he thought about juggling between a modelling career and photography school, he felt giddy the way a kid would feel about a free lollipop at the dentists.

“I think I’m gonna go to college,” Y/N said, her voice soft and unmoving as though the decision she made had been written in stone for years.

“Psychology?” Jake confirmed.

“Yeah,” she sighed, smiling into his chest.

SCHEDULES WERE BECOMING HECTIC to remember and ever since Y/N started community college, forgetting her next errand to attend or perform became a habit. She drove home in a hurry, her hair a wild mess pleated away in a braid. She flung the door open and threw her bag over the first table she walked past and her wide blinking eyes spoke nothing but panic as she realised how she was late to yet another meeting with a designer she was supposed to meet and model for-

“Y/N?”

Tony and Sheila were seated on her couch, staring at their friend like she was possessed by an eccentric ghost. Her outfit, an untucked shirt and black tie and skirt, was unshoveled and it looked as though she had almost fallen off a high-speed roller coaster. Y/N turned her head towards them with surprise, wide eyes softening just a smidge as she stopped emptying her pockets and purse in search of her ID card.

“What? Oh, hello!” She chuckled, moving stray strands of hair away from her face. “I’m so sorry, I can’t stay. I have a meeting I’m supposed to attend-”

“-Y/N,” Tony repeated, now more assertive. “That meeting is tomorrow,” he reminded her.

“Oh,” Y/N breathed, letting go of her purse with a thud. “Oh, thank God,” she celebrated with a gleaming smile. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I came to discuss a potential for a hand modelling contract?”

“Oh, no. I’m a terrible candidate for it, my nails never grow evenly and I have a few scabs and picked skin around my fingers,” she waved off and Tony nodded with pursed lips. She turned to look at Sheila, brows raising in question.

“Oh, I just came to visit because he said you’d be free for the rest of the day.”

Sheila and Tony met early into Y/N’s modelling career. It was an unexpected meeting- Y/N and Tony were on their way to a McDonald’s to grab a snack and Sheila was there with her brother, enjoying a cheap lunch before going to the movies. So the two groups merged into one and they spent the evening together. Tony and Sheila had grown to become friends since then, occasionally texting if they needed anything from each other or calling to see if it would be a good day to meet and go to the movies again.

“I’m free for the rest of the day?” Y/N piped. “The day could not get any better, I swear I need a day off. I’m tired,” she sighed.

Just as she pulled herself towards the couch, Jake flung the door open with Heeseung and Sunghoon trailing behind him, each holding a plastic bag of take-out food. When Jake’s gaze landed on Y/N, his smile brightened and when he noticed Tony and Sheila, he raised the bag in his hand like he was presenting the food to them. “Everyone’s here!” He beamed. “We’re all gonna have lunch together.”

“Yeah, I gotta shower before that, though,” Heeseung beelined away from the group and ventured into Y/N’s house like he had been there a hundred times before- which was true.

Jake, before doing anything else, greeted Y/N with a kiss and walked toward the kitchen.

While Jake, Sunghoon and Tony set up the table together, Sheila dragged Y/N to sit with her so she could comb her hair. She was whining about how she was lazy to shower and change her clothes and would do her skin-care routine later in the night so the least she could do was fix her tangled and knotted hair. It was tranquil between everyone, the guys occasionally speaking a few phrases to catch up and Sheila catching Y/N up on how college was and how exam season was coming soon.

“Oh, yeah, Even I have to start studying for exams,” Y/N tutted, shaking her head as Sheila rounded the rubberband to her braid.

“You should have enrolled in my university, we could have helped each other!”

“I know, but community college is much easier!”

Everyone sat around the table for lunch when Heeseung finally showed up, rubbing a towel against his wet hair with a grin on his face at the sight of food. While they ate, Sunghoon explained how Jay couldn’t show up because he had a project to prepare for and Jungwon and Riki were in dancing and taekwondo classes. Sunoo was caught up with his chemistry professor, writing his next research paper.

“I haven’t met Sunoo yet,” Sheila mused while chewing on a piece of cabbage.

“Yeah, you have,” Y/N reminded her while pointing her fork towards her.

“Yeah, I have, but I didn’t properly talk to him like this,” she referred to the impromptu lunch plans she was intertwined in.

“That’s because he’s always busy with classes or work or studies,” Jake said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make you talk someday,” Heeseung assured while smirking and continuing to eat broccoli.

The group talked and talked and filled each other in about various aspects of their lives and steered to topics that didn’t even relate to themselves. Tony left soon as he had to meet his fiance and Sunghoon left to practise for his next ice-skating performance. Then Sheila left too because her dorm would close soon and it was just Heeseung, Jake and Y/N sitting on the couch and passing around the last glass of orange juice. They attempted to play cards but it got dull so they watched a movie together instead, a really old black and white movie that Y/N was itching to watch and even though it was boring too, their commentary and jokes made it all the better.

Eventually, it was only her awake, Jake and Heeseung passed out on the couch with a thin blanket shared between them. Y/N pondered about her life that night, realising that she had started a new chapter long before she even realised it. She thought about Sheila and how they had grown to become more like sisters over the past few months. She thought about Jake and how healthy their relationship was, how easy it was to be herself around him. She thought about Tony and the way he was part of her family before anyone else. She thought about Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki and how they treated her house like their own because they’ve visited so many times and spent the night so many times. They made memories there, the residue of beer on her ceiling caused by Sunghoon was never painted over and the crack on the corner of her coffee table caused by Jungwon who tried attempting a high kick in the middle of the hall never got fixed.

She thought about how her present was worthy enough to forget about her past. She thought about how she had everything she’d ever wanted.

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kinardsevan · 6 months ago

Text

i wrote a whole ass psychology breakdown (for the first time in FOREVER) about the break-up. enjoy (if you so choose):

so I've been reading a lot in relation to Tommy's speech during the break-up (and have actually gotten through the scene several times now, mostly as a creative reference for these fix-it fics. I think one of the first things that I've seen completely tossed aside (that bothers the shit out of me as someone with over a decade of therapy treatment and a psychology degree) is whatever trauma Tommy carries.

We know that there are issues with his dad. We know Lou's lore behind him is that he spent a lot of his childhood alone. We don't know anything in relation to his mom, but she may or may not be the cause of more trauma. We know that his way of dealing with abuse of authority is to shut down and follow the leader, which is likely a mix of his military time and growing up in his father's household (and when I say this, I mean from what we saw of him under Gerrard's command). This is a person who has put years into getting himself into some version of okay after all that he's endured, and we know he still generally does it on his own.

To that end, here, have my breakdown of the break up (roughly right about the time Buck says "I want you to move in with me"). (with pictures!)

Prior to the offer, we watch Tommy process through Evan's explanation about his relationship with Abby, things being transformative for him, etc. We have to bare in mind that this is where we also start to get what I've dubbed "starry-eyed Buck". He's so in the throes of what he's saying that I don't think he's really considering the connotation of his words. At the same time, Tommy doesn't know what lore Evan is about to drop him about this prior relationship. Remember that he now has to contend with the fact that they both have strong opinions on their relations toward Abby, and Tommy can't know if their feelings toward her as a person will be the same. I think Lou played this beautifully, appearing anxious and apprehensive as Tommy listened to Evan explain that Abby was transformative for him. Then he shifts into how Tommy has been transformative for him (which, he has, and we as the audience know this, but we understand it from a bigger POV than what Evan is saying with his words.)

There have been posts about Evan putting Tommy up on a pedestal throughout this speech (and really, possibly even sooner, but this is where we really get it expressed). Tommy tries to rectify this to a degree by countering "I wasn't always that way".

To that end, we then get Evan telling him "I know, and it just makes me admire you more." Tommy gives a bashful smile, clearly heartened by the statement, and even opening his mouth as though he's going to respond to it in some form. It would be interesting to know what was on Lou's mind of what (if anything) he thought would've been said there. Are there lines that were removed in this scene? Was 'I love you' actually going to come up? We can't really know. However, there's this part of me that thinks that Tommy thought that they were having a discussion on the depth of their relationship which would've possibly brought those 7 letters to the equation. Either way, this entire bit of facial acting is SO important, because it speaks volumes about how Tommy feels about how Evan feels about him.

From there we get the "I want you to move in with me, and this, THIS, THIS is such an important point for this ENTIRE scene. It's two seconds, but it holds SO much for the narrative. This man, who seems to be on the verge of ...something, clearly (who knows if I Love You was on his mind, or if it was just the fact that Evan was expressing how much he cares about him.) The reason this is all so important is THIS REACTION:

Now again, we don't know Tommy's trauma, but the joy literally drops out of his expression and shifts to panic. Now, speaking solely from the standpoint that these two haven't even said "I love you" yet, his boyfriend steamrolled over him from a possible declaration of love straight to moving in together without discussing semantics. Further, it's not even "I want to live together", it's "move in with me". We don't know much about Tommy's house (because these shitheads haven't built him a set yet), but we know that he has a HOUSE. With a GARAGE. Buck lives in a LOFT. Regardless of how much of an asshole this makes me sound like, it's crawling with red flags. It comes across as "fit more into my life" instead of "lets do this thing together". Further, if that's not bad enough, mention of getting engaged and married is thrown at Tommy as well, which holds two major bits of information: One, these are on Evan's mind. We've NEVER heard him talk about getting engaged or married to anyone. This speaks to the importance of their relationship to him, but the lack of I Love You also speaks on his own trauma. If we truly are getting the rom-com trope, at some point there's likely to be a conversation about why he lept over it (*cough* Taylor, his parents *cough cough*). Meanwhile, as he's continued in his starry-eyed speech, this is what Tommy is giving:

Now for those who don't know how to spot it, this my friends is a PANIC RESPONSE. The shift forward, the move to get up, the literal deep breath. He's having a panic attack. Now, obviously we don't know what brought this on, but god-willing, we WILL get the answers.

Now, to his own point, Tommy doesn't just straight up pop Evan's pink bubble. He does express that it's a sweet sentiment, but that it's a bad idea. To which point we get:

"Evan, that is so sweet. But I can't move in with you." "And why not?" Because. I know how this ends." "Uh, what-what's that supposed to mean?"

At which point, we clearly get the qualities about Evan that Tommy likes. "Incredible guy. Big-hearted. Hot as hell. Impulsive." I don't feel that the expression here matters as much as his tone of voice, because we can see on his face that he's expressing these qualities from a good place. The next point of reference isn't until Tommy's next line, when he says that Evan's reaction is out of things being "new and exciting".

To that end, the way Evan is talking to him makes this statement valid. He's not talking to Tommy like they've been together for six months and have built a relationship that should be moving in this direction. (For the tenth time I will repeat, he couldn't even dignify whether he was in love with Tommy when Josh asked).

Furthermore, I think when you consider this part of the scene, you also have to consider the strain in Tommy's voice. Something about those concepts (living together, getting engaged, married) is terrifying. It definitely gives the impression that Tommy has been faced with some version of this before and he got burned. Why is this important? Because of this:

"I'm saying no matter how bad I want it to be, I'm not your last." Those 9 words are important on their own, but when you couple them with the expression on Tommy's face and what we've just seen him go through, there's a clear point to the fact that he's been through this before. I also think that there can't be enough importance placed on the way he intonates "how bad". This is not a man saying no because he doesn't want to. He's backpedaling because he's sure that he's going to get burned. We get this point further driven home with this exchange:

"I'm your first." "But hey, they can be the same thing." "But, they usually aren't."

See this doesn't read to me as someone who's scared because he knows Evan has never been with another man. They're both fully grown adults who have had multiple relationships. What this speaks to me (now) as, is someone who has let someone convince him before that he would be their forever, that they were all in, and then broke him. When you include his childhood trauma and whatever abandonment issues it's left him with in correlation with all of this, yes, it's still an extremely biphobic set of lines. But in the context of what he's expressing and why, it's not about telling Evan he needs more experience, it's about telling him that he doesn't believe that he'll want to stay settled down with him six months, a year, etc., down the road. And THAT my friends, is abandonment issues 101. "Everyone else has left, so it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because you will leave too, and I need to protect myself from that."

Following that, we get this: "if I were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it, but you'd end up breaking my heart."

This line is SO important, right next to Evan's exchange with Josh about his relationship with Tommy. Why? Because even though neither of them have said it, it spells out that these two are in fact in love with each other, even if they haven't said it.

"I don't think I could deal with that." Tommy is fucking GONE on him. He's expressing that if he gave himself fully over to what Evan's referring to, losing him would break him. Again, we don't have the full picture on his trauma, but we know there's a mountain there. It's also worth noting again, that the intonation he uses in these statements clearly come across as someone trying to reign in their emotions and keep it together. That says to me that we're dangeously close to touching his trauma.

I don't feel like I have to include the final few bits of the scene in gifs because they're all over the site now, but the next line gives over the fact that he hasn't really been open about his trauma to Evan, given that his immediate response to expressing all of this is "I should go". This kind of reaction is generally brought on as not being accepted for having certain feelings. Now, obviously Evan is caught off guard by the entire interaction, the same way Tommy was (but for different reasons), so we have to take all of that into account when we think about the fact that instead of countering Tommy's logic, he asks instead if Tommy is breaking up with him.

Body language is also so important here for Tommy. His shoulders are hunched in, we see him wipe his face (meaning there are likely tears), and when he turns around, he's so caught up in whatever wave has taken him over that it takes Evan asking him for Tommy to state "yeah, I guess I did" about breaking up. Further, there's the fact that he states that he didn't see the break-up coming, which goes back to my point at the top of this post, that he clearly thought the conversation was going one direction, and instead it goes the other. From this point, we have Evan reeling, because he wants to create more of a life with Tommy, while Tommy is shutting down because of whatever is holding him back.

Finally, as I've referenced before, we get this line:

"Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true."

That line makes zero sense out of context, but in consideration of someone trying to lighten the weight they're carrying (which you can literally see by the way he has his hand on his neck, which you generally only see people do as a stress response). You can also double entendre this statement that getting to be with Evan was too good to be true. We get that little inhale with the smile, and I swear to God the only time I've seen that kind of reaction is right before someone cracks.

And then in closing, we get the "I'll see you 'round, Buck," our closing gut punch. Evan is still reeling, clearly. His face is very "what the hell just happened". Tommy is clearly not okay. This entire scene has opened an entire can of worms on them without a whole lot of answers.

Now, I've owned the fact that basically from the end of 806, I felt like this had to be a swerve, and that there has to be more to the story. I've also pretty much owned the fact that if the writers did actually just do this for kicks and don't have a resolution for it, I may not keep watching. However, in the context of the fact that, for the moment, I'm choosing to put hope in some kind of resolution, these lines make so much more sense. It is worth noting though, most people in the fandom, let alone the general audience, aren't going to psychologically break this shit down line-by-line. They're not going to lean into whatever trauma Tommy has that we don't know about yet. Its why the internet has been a mess since Thursday night. But it's also why I talk about how, when this situation gets resolved (because right now I refuse to say if), Buck has to give up the loft and give more of himself. Tommy, by the nature of the show, has fully immersed himself in Evan's life, but we haven't seen or heard mention of Evan doing so at all in Tommy's life. That doesn't mean he hasn't, but we haven't gotten any version of that. So when I say Evan needs to give things up... it's about matching what he's asking Tommy to give up. Because at the end of the day, when this circles back around, he's effectively going to be asking Tommy to trust that he won't break his heart like others have, and when you have a lifetime of abandonment issues and have learned to cope by being hyper-independent and alone, moving in the opposite direction is more terrifying than anything else. ESPECIALLY when you love that person, which we saw Tommy spell out. Evan has the ability to break him (and probably already is via this cut-off-at-the-quick break up.)

So, I'm really gonna need these shit heads to figure out that they'll be more miserable apart than they'd ever be together.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#mel's musings #bucktommy #mel's psychological breakdowns #psychoanalysis #break up breakdown #tevan #kinley #firepilot #firebeast

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jo-com · 1 year ago

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Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 Smut. Thank you so much ❤️

₊˚⊹♡ ➛ le mien

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Summary: Part 2 of Mine

Genre: DARK fic.

Word: 2.03k words

TW: baby trapping, p and c penetration, possessiveness, jealousy, branding, manipulation, obsessive behavior, bit angsty, corruption, brainwashing, wrap it before you tap it folks and overall messed up shit. This is not proofread and there are some grammatical error also google translated french. if uncomfortable minors do not interact!!

─────── ─ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ ─ ───────

Y/username just posted!

Liked by Charles_Lecler, Francisca.cgomes, Carlossainz55 and 1,290,456 others

Y/username Happy 4th Anniversary Mon amour!

Charles_Leclerc i love you so much darling!

Y/username i love you more💋💋💋

Carlossainz55 Stay strong guys!

User1 Cutest Couple ever🙈

User2 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY

User3 Agreed😍

Y/bff The cutest fr

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…

Despite all the love you share on social media, nothing can compare to the real truth that exists beyond the internet.

People don't see the things he does behind closed doors—all those emotional abuse, obsessive behavior, and possessiveness. Never, even once, do people know that it's happening between the two of you.

All they know is the sweet words you guys share in each other's posts and the way you act whenever there are people around you two—all sweet and loving like one of those fairy tale romances you read. But behind all that, they don't see how hurt you are mentally. It was happening constantly, and you were so used to it that you became numb and just succumbed to the growing pain you feel inside.

To the point where you act like his puppet—doing everything that pleases him, and acting the way he wants you to.

You never once complained, thinking that it was just how love goes.

You were a fool. A fool blinded by "love".

...

"Hey y/n/n, are you alright? Me and mom have been worried about you; you haven't been going to our usual family gathering." your sister asked over the phone.

It was true; you haven't been going to those gatherings for a while now, only because Charles said, "It's not safe to go outside," and of course, like the sweet girlfriend doll you were, you followed his words.

You stared blankly, your mind wandering off. You tend to get lost in thoughts nowadays, and you're not sure why. Maybe it's from the stress you've been feeling, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing.

"Yeah, I am good. I've just been busy lately, you know? Keeping the house safe and everything," you chuckled dryly.

"You know I can tell when there's something wrong, right? So just tell me."

Before you could answer, Charles walked into the room. With one hand holding Leo, he was snuggled up nice and cozy in his embrace. His eyes roamed around the room searching for you; his gaze then fell prey on your meek figure—you sat there holding the phone in one hand while the other rested on the softly fabricated couch. You looked angelic, as if untouched by any form of evil.

Then again, Charles wasn't just any form of evil; he was the reincarnation of the devil himself, and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt your innocence.

With a soft smile, Charles walked to where you sat, sitting beside you and settling leo down on his lap.

"Who are you talking to poupée (doll)?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, just my sister; we were just catching up on things." You muttered, your voice quivering slightly; you don't know whether you were scared or just have some sore throat that made your voice crack.

Charles looked at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and simply turned his attention back at Leo. "Hang up the phone," he said bluntly, not even sparing you a glance.

"But baby, we were just talking." You tried to argue with him, telling him that you just wanted to chat with your sister, but as usual, he blocked your words of plea and glared at you—he always does that, looking at you as if he were judging your whole soul.

His eyes have always been your weakness; they both scare and pleasure you at the same time. Charles knows that, and he uses it to his advantage every time.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy; you could feel it weighing down and crushing your spirit.

Sighing defeatedly, you had no choice but to end the call with your sister and not further complicate things.

"Hey, uhm, sis, I'll just call you back, okay? Something just came up."

You didn't even let your sister respond before hanging up the call. Charles hummed contentedly and patted the seat next to him. At that very moment, you felt angry with him, but you knew that you couldn't do anything about it, so you sucked it up and sat beside him. Leaning close to his embrace.

"Bonne fille, ma chérie (good girl, my darling)," he mumbbled softly, kissing the roof of your head.

...

Charles gripped your waist tightly, his jaws clenched, and hands balled up to a fist. He half-ass smiled at the man, trying to compose himself—fighting back the urges to beat the shit out of the guy in front of them.

He saw the way he looked at you; his eyes scanned each and every part of your body like you were some kind of art on display. fucking disgusting.

You, on the other hand, held on to him, almost ripping the fabric of his clothes with your tight grip. You paid no mind to the guy he was talking to and just stared at the bustling room; in there, people were having fun, dancing, and drinking with others.

At that moment, you didn't care about Charles or who he was conversing with; all you wanted was to spring free from his embrace and just party wild with others. Was that too much to ask for?

For him, it was. If it was legal, he wanted nothing more than to lock you up and live the rest of your lives together. So, having that idea was just wishful thinking—it never hurts to dream, though.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" The man asked, earning a subtle nod from Charles as an acknowledgment.

"Quel putain de cinglé (what a fucking weirdo)," he mumbled under his breath, his accent making the words sound more spiteful and venomous.

You didn't hear him say that. You were too busy to admire people's enjoyment and bask in the laughter and smiles that surround you. How could people be as care free like that? The ache on your heart only grows fonder. Oh, how you wish you could do the same.

With your head up in the clouds, you didn't seem to notice the angry monegasque that stood beside you, cursing you in any language he knew. The next thing you felt was a harsh sting that rested on your jaw.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I've been trying to talk to you! What are you even looking at? Are you cheating on me, Chienne (Bitch)?" he yelled, not even caring anymore if people heard him.

Your breath hitches, eyes widening, and heart racing fast.

His hands were now on your jaws, gripping them with sheer strength. You didn't know what was going on or why this was happening to you. You were always so nice and never did anything to cause harm, so why?

All those questions in your mind made your vision go blurry and your head spin, causing you to black out on the spot.

...

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and only bits of memories of what happened that night. "Ouch," you winced, massaging your head to try and ease the pain.

As if on cue, Charles walked in with medicine on his left hand and a glass of water on the right.

His face lit up, seeing that you were now awake. He softly smiled and walked towards your shared bed. The matress dipped down as he sat next to your sitting body.

"Are you feeling better, mon amour?" he asked. His hand was about to stroke your cheeks, but out of reflex, your body flinched at his sudden movement.

That made Charles frown. You know how bipolar his mood has been; that's why you've been extra careful not to ruin it. You were expecting him to be mad, but what happened was the opposite. He only sighed deeply and lowered his head.

"I am sorry, Mon cœur." Your being shocked was an understatement; in fact, you were flabergasted at his words. You never knew that hearing him say that would make you want to tear up.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for it to happen," you assured him, and rubbed circles around his arm.

And just like that, Charles once again got you wrapped around his finger. You were way too easy to convince and so naive that you'd fall for anything he said.

He slowly lift up his head and gave you a light smile.

You then melted at his expression, it was silly of you to think that a face like that could ever harm you. he would never do that.

...

"Fuck, Charlie, put it in already, please," you begged, your eyes watering from the overstimulation. His hands gripped your waist tighter—muscles flexing in the process.

"You're so needy for my cock, mon amour," he breathes out.

The two of you have been at it for half an hour now, both out of breath and with marks made by one another. Your bodies were sticky with each other's bodily fluids, but you guys paid no mind to that. Only focusing on reaching the pleasure you both wanted so badly.

Without wasting a second, Charles huridly inserted his dick into your aching core. Your eyes widened from the sudden sensation between your thighs; you could feel how he was stretching you, and the need for him to satisfy you only increased.

"Move, please" you said, your voice quivering and hands scratching his back to let out some of the pain.

Your legs instantly rested on his lower hip, wanting to keep him as close to you as possible. You don't know why you're acting like that, but you suddenly got the urge to mount him and fuck him till dawn.

"Shit baby, you're always so tight," he chuckled, his left hand settled in the headboard while his right hand played with the nub of your tits.

His hips clashed with yours, making the two of you a moaning mess. Charles then dove down to your breast and licked it, biting and teasing them. He made sure to leave plenty of marks.

"Oh god, i..i am about to come," you gasped, your toes curling from the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

"Just come for me, baby," he said, continuously pounding into you, your flesh crashing at each other and making a loud, smacking sound.

His hand then snaked up to hold onto your ankles, lifting it up. Shifting his dick into a deeper position.

With the new found position, your vision started to go blur; now only seeing nothing but stars. Your mind then turns hazy, and hands gripping tightly on the duvet sheet that scattered on the bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" was the only thing you said before collapsing on the matress, your body convulsing with pleasure as your juices slowly fall down your flush tighs.

"Damn, all that for me, ma chérie?" Charles laughed, licking his lower lip at how ravishing you look; fucked out and cockdumb for him.

He continued to rut his hips to your overstimulated cunt. "Fuck, Je veux mettre un bébé en toi (i want to put a baby inside you)" he mumbled, not minding your state and carried on fucking you into an oblivion.

"I'ma fill you with my cum, make you a mama and the fill you up again....fuck" he rambled, his hips never stoping, not until he reach his high.

And after a few more thrust, he finally came inside of you— his eyes rolling in the back of his head with satisfaction. He continued to rut into you; not wanting to spill his cum and then coating your walls with his white seed.

You were sure to get pregnant by that and after that, you two are going to be tied forever, just like he planned.

...

yeah that was pure filth, hope you guys like it though! My requests are always open.

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thenickgirl · 6 months ago

Text

TAKE IT OUT ON ME

bf!nick x male!reader

summary: in which Nick takes his frustrations out on reader

type: fic ✩ genre: smut ✩ pov: reader’s ✩ word count: 2.1K

warnings: use of y/n, use of 👀…the d word, swearing, oral and anal sex, degradation, hair pulling, rimming, fingering, spitting, edging if you squint, choking, slapping (DNI if you’re uncomfortable), top!nick x bottom!reader

a/n: good evening, whores (affectionate)! saurrr if you know me, then you know that i’m a bottom nick stan for life. the simple thought of him riding a nice big dick is what brings me joy every day lmao. that being said, top nick is so foreign to me, but i wanted to take a risk for all my nick boys that i love so much. i have to give a huge shoutout to queen ki, @nickssidewitch, she knows why 😉. y’all this fr had me clenching my thighs so tight, god men are so fucking lucky ffs. i’m so nervous about this, i really hope you all enjoy it. i’ll be having a very cold shower now, byeeee 👋🏾. happy reading! ✩

‘Sometimes I don’t mind you

havin’ the worst day’

“Fucking BITCH!” You hear Nick yell from upstairs as you enter your home, along with things being slammed on the floor. You sigh, leaving your shoes by the door, before coming up the steps. You place your bag down on the couch as you make your way to the bedroom. You stood by the door, leaning your shoulder against the frame, watching him.

Nick was swearing under his breath, picking up the items he’d thrown across the room, not even noticing your presence. You take in his appearance; his shirt almost cropped from how small it was, his hair completely disheveled from tugging at it in frustration, the way his tattooed arms flexed as he clenched his fists, all while his blue fresh love sweats hung dangerously low on his hips. You bit your lip, the sight of him turning you on so much, you could feel yourself growing harder by the second as your eyes continue to scan his body.

“What are you looking at?” he gripes, snapping you out of your apparent trance. His piercing blue eyes lock with yours, eyebrows furrowing, and suddenly you feel a warmth in your cheeks.

“H-Huh?” you stutter in defeat, unable to form a full sentence at that moment.

“Are you deaf?” he replies sternly, stepping closer to you.

“Bad day, huh?” you ask nervously, biting the inside of your cheek, not really wanting to set him off more than he already is.

“Something like that,” he starts, rubbing his eyes before pacing the floor in front of me.

“There’s no fucking audio on the video, and we have nothing else to post for tomorrow. I have to decide on the new flavors for the next drop, but I don't like any of them, and I can’t think of any new ones for the life of me. I can’t find either of my fucking glasses, and you know I can’t see for shit. I’m so frustrated, I don’t know what to do” he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

You honestly felt bad for the brunette man in front of you, he’s overworked and certainly under appreciated. Yet, you couldn’t help finding him so god damn sexy in this disgruntled state. You open your mouth to speak before closing it, biting on your lip as you think of what you’re about to say next. You wanted nothing more than to be supportive, but all you could think about right now was being under him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, that sounds like an awful day,” you pout, pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweats.

“Why don’t you let out some of that frustration on me, hm?” you grin, looking up at him with lust in your eyes.

Nick licks his lips as his eyes darken at your proposition, “Oh yeah, gonna let me take it out on you, pretty boy? Be my little fucktoy tonight?” he smirks, grabbing you by the waist, your bodies flushed against each other, and you gasp. You can feel how hard he’s getting already.

“Use me however you want,” you offer, a submissive smile playing on your lips.

“Such an eager little slut for me, I think I'll take you up on that offer,” his voice dripped with lust.

He leans down, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “On your knees. Now.” He commands, and you drop to your knees without hesitation.

“So pretty, but…” he trails off, running his thumb across your bottom lip, and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently, “You’ll look even better when you’re gagging on this dick,” he continues, smirking.

He pulls his thumb away with a pop, before hooking his fingers inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling them and his underwear off in one swift motion. His hard cock springs free, and you let out a stifled moan, your mouth watering at the sight of it. It was so big, you became lost in thought, you could hardly wait to have it buried inside you.

“It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he says, before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pushing your face towards his length.

“Suck it, and don’t even fucking think about teasing, or you’ll regret it” he threatens, as you reach to grab his cock in your hand, but it gets smacked away.

“No hands,” he demands, and you nod, looking up at him before taking him in your mouth.

He groans at the warm feeling of your mouth around him. You began moving your head back and forth, sucking hard on his shaft. “Shit,” he moans, biting hard on his bottom lip, and your eyes locked with his. The way he was reacting to you made your cock twitch. He pushes your head down further, and you relax your throat. He bucks his hips, his fist still tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat.

“God, I love your fucking mouth,” Nick moans, as he continues. You start to gag around him, and his body trembles at the sound. He can feel his release starting to build.

“Not yet,” he says, as he pulls you off of him. You gasp, inhaling deeply, as you finally catch your breath.

He helps you up, grabbing you by the waist before crashing his lips against yours. He grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up, and you break the kiss to help him pull it off. He removes his own shirt quickly, and before you knew it, your back was being pressed against the mattress, as his broad frame hovered over you. He starts kissing your neck, sucking, and biting at your skin. His tongue smoothing over each mark he creates, and you whine.

“Nick…” you moan softly, squirming beneath him.

“So fucking needy,” he chuckles. He kisses along your chest, his warm tongue flicking one of your nipples as he rolls the other in between his fingers. You moan, your back arching into his touch. His lips trail down to your abdomen, leaving wet kisses until he reaches the waistband of your pants. He palms you through your jeans, before undoing them, pulling them down along with your boxers. You lift your hips to help him take them off, and your cock springs free.

“This all for me?” Nick teases.

He flips you over onto your stomach, grabbing you by the hips, and lifting you up onto your knees so you’re bent over in front of him, and he lets out a low groan. He smacks your ass, then squeezes it, and you let out a soft moan.

“Please…” you whimper, pushing your ass against him.

“Begging will get you everywhere, darling,” Nick says smirking, as his large hands spread your cheeks. He leans down, licking a strip from your balls to your hole, and you gasp at feeling. His tongue laps at your entrance, his hands rubbing, and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Mmph fuck,” you moan, biting hard on your lip. His tongue draws circles around your hole, before sliding in. “Ohh my god,” you moan out, your back arching even more as you bury your face in the sheets. He continues to eat you out, licking and sucking at your hole, his tongue darting in and out rapidly.

He pulls back after a few minutes, smacking your ass once more before reaching over towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. He squeezes some out on his fingers, then applies it. He slides one finger inside you, pumping in and out slowly. His aching cock throbs at the squelching sound. He slides in another, this time pumping faster, and you moan, pushing back against his hand.

“You’re so fucking pathetic,” He teases, smacking your ass again before sliding in a third finger. He pumps his digits in and out, spreading them every so often, stretching you, as you moan over and over.

“I need you so bad, daddy, please…” you whine desperately, sending chills down his spine, and he groans. He pulls his fingers from you, before lining himself at your entrance. Before you can even say another word, he slams his length into you. Not even giving you time to adjust, his hips snap against you at a steady pace.

“So tight,” he whispers, both hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the room as your fingers tangle in the sheets. He starts fucking you harder, grabbing you by your hair, pulling it as he pounds into you over and over.

“God, y/n, you feel fucking amazing,” he moans, as he continues to drill into you. The head of his cock repeatedly hits your prostate, and your body shudders. You reach down, taking your length in your hand, stroking it. The pleasure intensifies as you teeter closer to the edge.

“Ohh fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, and suddenly he pulls out. You open your mouth to protest, until you’re being flipped onto your back once again, and you gasp at the sudden change in position.

“I wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he says, before slamming into you again. Taking one of your legs, and placing it over his shoulder, giving him deeper access. You moan, as he gains a steady rhythm. His fingers play with your nipples, the immense pleasure making your back arch into his touch.

“Nick Nick Nick,” you moan his name over and over, as he fucks you senseless.

“That’s it, baby,” he smirks, “You’re taking me so well, like a good little slut,” he praises, degradingly. He trails one of his hands to your throat, squeezing lightly as he deepens his strokes.

“Nghhh fuck, it feels so good,” you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets once again.

“You love it when I get angry, don’t you? It turns you on to see me so frustrated? ‘Cause you know you’ll get fucked like this?” Nick asks, his hand still wrapped around your throat, as he’s balls deep inside you. You whimper in response, his length hitting your sweet spot so perfectly, making your brain foggy.

“Aw, so drunk on my cock he can’t speak,” he starts, “Answer me.” He demands, as the palm of his hand connects with your cheek, and you let out a small gasp, biting hard on your lip from how aroused it made you.

“Y-yes, it turns me on s-so much, daddy. Love when you f-fuck me like this,” you whimper, looking at him, your eyes locking with his. You open your mouth, your tongue sticking out, and he spits in it. You moan, swallowing it down, and a lustful growl escapes his lips.

“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he groans, taking your leg down from his shoulder before he leans in, kissing you hungrily. You moan in between the kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking at your skin, as hips continue to snap against you, each thrust deeper than the last.

“Mm fuck, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you let out a desperate whimper, your eyes rolling back, as he continues his movements, picking up his pace. You feel your release start to build again, your body trembling.

“You’re shaking, baby. You gonna cum for me?” Nick whispered in your ear, before biting it.

“Y-Yes, I’m so close,” you moan, the knot in your stomach seconds from coming undone.

“I don’t remember you asking,” he teases, slowing down his pace, and you whine, your hips bucking up trying to gain more friction.

“I need to cum so bad, please. Please, I wanna cum for you,” you plead, rolling your hips against him. He takes his hand, and wraps it around your throbbing cock, stroking slowly.

“Make a mess, baby,” he encourages, his hand moving rapidly on your cock, as he starts to thrust into you again.

“Ohh, oh fuck,” you let out a stifled moan, as you cum all over your abdomen. Nick continues to fuck you through your orgasm, as he chases his own.

“Shit y/n,” he moans your name, his body stuttering as he cums inside you.

He collapses on top of you, panting, and you chuckle, running your fingers through his now damp hair. He pecks at your shoulder softly, before pulling out, and rolling off of you. Instinctively, he pulls you to his side, and you rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, baby, for ‘helping’ me out,” he jokes, his fingers doing air quotes, before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m always happy to help. Especially, if it’s gonna turn out that good,” you tease, and you both laugh.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” he suggests, before sitting up, and getting out of bed.

“And can you pleaseee help find my glasses?” he asks, helping you out of bed, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Babe, they’re on the living room table,” you say, giggling.

Nick’s eyes widened, “WHAT?!”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: ahhhh! i hope you enjoyed this. it was such a challenge for me, i’d been working on it for literal months, not kidding. saurrr, it’ll probably be a minute before top!nick makes another appearance, hope this helps! 💋

dividers by: @/cafekitsune @/adornedwithlight

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #mr stromboli #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x reader #a fics #n sturniolo x male reader #n sturniolo x you #n sturniolo x male #n sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo smut

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cursedhaglette · 2 months ago

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Solavellan recs you say? 👀👀👀👀👀

OHHHHH POOOKIIIIEEEEEEEEEE here's a lil bit of everything for you, go forth and feast

remorse is not an apology by deciblesque - you will find me gradually losing my shit in the comments of this one. we shouldn't be allowed to read it for free, it's so brilliant. i literally have no words, it's just so fucking good. post-DAV and an absolute must read. (also the author has some very delicious solavelassan smut if you need something to wash it down with)

the shrine of your lies by @swordbisexual - make that everything by ouiser by dear god, this one will have you needing solas so bad

the first six months of forever by lahtays - devastating, brilliant, sexy, post-solas doing his big stupid but written pre-DAV (as if we need DAV though) but they get to live in the world as they fix things and yeah. so so good.

scion by @widowling - we know martyr, we love (and love to hate) martyr, but honestly scion is gonna RUIN me in a big way and i can't wait. a good, like ACTUALLY GOOD, arlathan AU is hard to find but a sexy young solas is also the most important thing in the world to me, especially if he's also just a lil dumb. my beloved widowling nailed it. can't wait for more of this one.

love is not a victory march by @brunchatthebookstore - the inquisitor gets the call to go to minrathous in time for solas' ritual. this is an all-timer in the making, i just know it.

miles below the surface of the dawn by @gostak - long form smut that literally made me cry i'm not kidding. this fandom really has everything. you know what's more fucked up? KIT HADN'T EVEN FINISHED DAI WHEN WRITING THIS MASTERPIECE.... shfdkjhjsdfkjshdf

verhas'alhan - to yearn for wilderness by rosemarybagels - centuries spent after the veil falls and this is painful but absolutely beautiful and feels so wonderfully true to both characters and ugh. UGH. how to be heartbroken and hate each other but love each other all at the same time. gorgeous.

her hand was invented before god was by @citrusai - gan'freya woman that she is. solas snoop that he is. this is absolutely delicious and perfect and i've read it twice and i know i will again because it's so them.

the immortal game by @psykergirl - the most solavellan smut of all time. trust me on this.

all new, faded for her by @scaryanneee - putting this toward the bottom only because i've recc'd it before multiple times but not because i love it any less. it's one of my current comfort fics and anna is so so brilliant and perfect at writing the classic romance tropes we know and love but making them soooo sollavellan it's sick. also morinne is there but who cares when ATHERA. QUEEN ATHERA. god.

these hands, if not gods by @gefionne - also at the bottom only because i've recc'd it before and i think the whole fandom is probably bouncing up and down waiting for every update. my other current comfort fic at the moment. imagining young solas whimpering with nipple rings gets me through the day and gef...god bless gef for that.

there's........so much more porn here than i expected. oops. but also it's all literally so good i'm not even sorry about it. also if you want to support moi, i write a lil fic called requited but feel weird promo-ing it more than that. i also have more fic recs for solavellan answered here, here and here!

anyways, have fun and enjoy!

#thank you for asking bc this gave me a break from endless interview prep hehe #fic recs #solavellan fic recs #solavellan fics #solavellan #solavellan fanfic #solavellan hell #solavellan heaven #asks

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nyarumie · 10 months ago

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Suit Anomaly. (Oneshot)

hoshina soshiro x reader — 919 words. established relationship, kissing, making out, mentioned 'she' pronouns for reader.

Just a small break from my ongoing Narumi fic, which is linked on my pinned post! Please do check it out too 🫶

Click here for part 2! Cross-posted on Ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

A staring contest in the middle of the highly confidential training facility has apparently been going on for a couple of minutes. You maintained a good distance between Soshiro and yourself, just enough to bend your upper body forward and stare into the eyes of Kaiju no.10 in his suit. (The Kaiju, in fact, refuses to open its eyes).

"Can this guy see anything?" you asked.

Eh? This guy?

Soshiro can't believe you just addressed the Kaiju in his suit as just some guy. What were you even doing? Testing the No. 10 suit wasn't on his schedule today, but you managed to pester Okonogi into "checking it out for anomalies" because of how bad they performed in yesterday's target training.

It was Okonogi who answered you from above, "Yes. Because its consciousness is fully retained, you can still think of it as a Kaiju, albeit taking the form of a Defense Force suit."

"Why's it ignoring me then? Soshiro, is this like a pet of yours? Maybe you need to tame it, you're good at that anyways." you said, now standing upright, still staring at the eye hole of the suit. "Your performance was still shit yesterday, Kaiju No. 10."

Finally, it opened its eye. "I'm not this bowlcut's pet!" it growled at you.

"So you do have an eye. You can do better at target practice, yeah? Your tail is aggressively wagging, by the way." you said, your stare turning cold now that it decided to open its eyes.

Soshiro clapped his hands once, a sign that you both need to stop arguing. Scratching the back of his head, he whined your name. "It's supposed to be my off-day from training, ya know? What was the anomaly check ya said yesterday?"

You sighed, a hand in one hip. You walked closer, ignoring the panicked warning of Okonogi that you're entering dangerous territory. Soshiro was uncharacteristically taken by surprise when you hooked a hand behind his neck and comfortably placed your other hand on his chest, pulling him closer.

Before you can even do anything, you hear the suit's tail wave around more aggressively than before, almost destroying the floor behind Soshiro. "... So that's what's up." you said, still retaining the quite intimate position you both are in.

"Fine! FINE!! You got me, can the both of you stop doing that every damn time?! You humans are so weird!" the Kaiju wailed.

And it closed its eye again.

Confused, Soshiro placed both his hands on either side of your waist. "Dear, what's goin' on?"

"I'm afraid we shouldn't work together on the field if you're using that suit."

He frowned, "But nothin' else tops our teamwork. Are ya worried this suit will kill you?"

You feel laughter threatening to spill from your lips. 'How adorable. For a hella smart guy, he's so clueless this time; they really refuse to read each other's mind, don't they?' you thought.

You cleared your throat to control yourself, explaining the anomaly you discovered. "Dear, the Kaiju is flustered."

He's so dumbfounded right now.

"This Kaiju? Flustered?" Is that even possible? "From what?" he asked.

Suddenly finding the entire situation funny, your attitude from earlier drastically changed. "Allow me to elaborate, then!" you said, humor visible from your eyes.

"Its tail wagging aggressively and eye closing during your target exercises whenever I'm around—because you kiss me so much, it can't stand seeing me without remembering it!" you laughed.

You hear Kaiju No. 10 grumble a complain, sounding something like what a "needy bastard" Soshiro is.

Ah. "Well buddy, ya gotta learn how to cope with it. She's my partner on-field and off-field. Ya can stand my blades, but not a kiss?" Soshiro said, slightly amused at the situation.

Its tail got aggressive again. "Shut up! You're basically devouring her mouth! Do humans really need to hold each other closely while doing it?! I'm your suit—I can feel your body heat up from it, you bastard!" it spouted.

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

Okonogi took this as a sign to temporarily leave the room, sighing at how silly this entire thing is.

"Well, m'dear, the Kaiju didn't lie." he teasingly said, grinning as he pulled you even closer and cupping your face in one hand. "How 'bout we give it a sample right now? It needs time getting used to us, don'tcha agree?"

Before you were even able to reply, he dipped and kissed your lips fully.

You let out a surprised sound, feeling him angling his lips better as his tongue prodded access to your mouth. 'Such intensity for a sample,' you thought. Your hand subtly pulled on his hair, the both of you moaning as your tongues danced with each other.

He reluctantly pulled away as he felt you pat his chest, a silent plea for air.

"How are ya feeling?"

"Beyond amazing. Might need more later."

You jumped at the voice that boomed from the suit, "You bastards done? I may be able to close my eye, but I can hear everything!! You're both the most disgusting humans ever!"

Soshiro huffed, "Quit whinin', you're such a drama queen. Get used to it, it's part of yer training."

"Ahem." You both hear a voice from above.

Ah, it's the Captain. Did Okonogi fetch her?

"Don'tcha worry Captain Ashiro, we're wrapping up already." he said.

Soshiro and you made your way back to the control room, announcing that the anomaly has been "taken care of".

#kaiju no. 8 #kaiju number 8 #kn8 writing #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #axia writes for fun #kn8 x you #kn8 x reader #hoshina soshiro fluff

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semisasseater · 2 months ago

Text

STUPID MOVE

pretty girl.

SUMMARY ‘ trying to escape was a stupid move.

𓊆 黑星 𓊇 x gn!reader 㞫⠀⠀ ִ ⠀ 2,008 obsession stalking kidnapping abuse forced captivity threats emotional manipulation violence yandere themes — 类型 dark romance psychological thriller horror yandere

✴︎ LIBRARY ✴︎ part 1 part 2

‧˚⠀⠀ 🤍⠀⠀ ɞ 作者注 : posting another fic then leaving again.

Two Weeks Later

The air outside the basement felt suffocating.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were no longer trapped underground, no longer bound by ropes in a damp, dark room. Heeseung had finally deemed you “ready” to leave the basement. But only under his watchful eyes.

You thought it would feel like freedom.

It didn’t.

Your body felt dirty, your skin sticky, your hair tangled from weeks of being confined in that cold, miserable space. You wanted nothing more than to scrub yourself clean, to feel human again.

“…Can I take a shower?” Your voice was hoarse, quiet, barely masking the disgust curling in your stomach as Heeseung gazed at you with those infatuated eyes.

His entire face lit up at your request, as if you’d just told him you loved him. “Of course, darling!” He practically beamed, rushing to guide you to the bathroom. “I bought you some clothes that I think would look beautiful on you.”

You swallowed the bile in your throat as he handed you a neatly folded outfit. The way he looked at you made your skin crawl—so lovesick, so hopeful.

You forced a nod, biting down your revulsion. “Thanks…”

The second you shut the bathroom door, you exhaled shakily.

The mirror reflected a hollowed-out version of yourself—pale, tired, a ghost of the person you once were. You ignored your reflection, stripped down, and stepped into the steaming shower.

Water cascaded down your skin, washing away weeks of filth, but not the sickening feeling of Heeseung’s eyes on you. You scrubbed harder, rubbing your skin raw, as if you could erase his touch from your soul.

And then you saw it.

The window.

Open.

Your heart pounded violently against your ribs as you turned off the water, wrapping the towel around you. You had no plan, no idea where you were, but it didn’t matter. This was your chance.

You climbed onto the sink, reaching up to hoist yourself through the window. Just a little more—just a little higher—

The bathroom door swung open.

“Love, are you—”

Silence.

Dread flooded your veins as you turned, meeting Heeseung’s darkening eyes. His entire body stiffened, his expression unreadable.

You moved faster, scrambling to push yourself through, but before you could, a pair of hands grabbed your ankles and yanked you down.

You crashed onto the cold, hard floor with a sickening thud.

“N-No…” you whimpered, crawling backward as Heeseung loomed over you.

His expression twisted into something monstrous. His jaw clenched, his hands trembled—but not in sadness. In fury.

“What. The. Fuck. Were. You. Thinking?” His voice was eerily calm, his head tilted slightly.

Your lips trembled. “H-Heeseung please—”

The first blow struck your face before you could finish. Then another. Then another.

Pain exploded across your body—punches, kicks, hair yanked so hard your scalp burned. You screamed, sobbed, pleaded, but it didn’t stop. The world blurred, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness.

Then, finally, it stopped.

Your body felt weightless, your ears ringing. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Heeseung’s heaving chest, his wide, trembling eyes staring down at your battered form. His hands shook—blood on his knuckles. Your blood.

“…Shit” he whispered.

Then, gently—so, so gently—he cradled your broken body in his arms.

“I’m sorry” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your bruised cheek. “I didn’t mean to hurt you so much… I just… I just got scared baby. You can’t do that. You can’t leave me.”

His voice wavered, desperate, trembling with something between guilt and obsession. His fingers brushed your blood-matted hair away from your face as if he hadn’t just beaten you unconscious.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry, to claw at him, to do anything—but your body wouldn’t move. Everything ached.

Heeseung lifted you carefully, carrying you like something fragile. His breath was shaky, his heartbeat erratic against your skin.

“I’ll fix this” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You faded in and out of consciousness, barely registering the feeling of soft sheets beneath you. The scent of Heeseung’s cologne clung to them, suffocating you.

You weren’t in the basement anymore.

You were in his bed.

—

When you woke again, everything hurt. Your arms, your ribs, your face—every part of you screamed in pain. Bandages covered your skin, the faint smell of antiseptic in the air.

And then you felt it.

The weight of an arm draped over your waist. A body pressed against yours. Warm breath against your neck.

You stiffened.

Slowly, you turned your head, your pulse hammering violently in your chest.

Heeseung.

Asleep, curled around you like a child clinging to his favorite stuffed animal. His grip was loose but firm enough to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere.

Your stomach twisted. You wanted to shove him away, to rip yourself from his grasp. But you were weak, exhausted, and the fresh bruises decorating your skin told you what would happen if you tried again.

Tears welled in your eyes. What were you going to do?

Then—movement.

A soft hum vibrated against your shoulder. Heeseung stirred, his grip tightening, his nose nuzzling into your neck as he let out a content sigh.

“You’re awake” he murmured sleepily. His voice was thick with drowsiness, but when he opened his eyes, they glowed with something far more alert—something possessive.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay still. “Y-Yeah…”

A smile stretched across his lips, and for a second, he looked normal. Just a boy waking up next to the love of his life.

But this wasn’t love.

Love wasn’t this.

“I was so worried” he whispered, his fingers brushing against the bruises he had left. His smile faltered, something dark flickering in his gaze. “I got angry… I didn’t mean to hurt you so much, love. But you scared me.”

You stayed silent, your fingers trembling against the sheets.

Heeseung’s expression softened. “You understand, don’t you? I had to do it. You made me do it.”

A lump formed in your throat.

He shifted, hovering over you, his face inches from yours. “You won’t do that again right?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a threat.

You forced yourself to nod. “I… I won’t.”

His face lit up, a wide, lovesick grin spreading across his lips. “That’s my good girl.” He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Your stomach churned.

He pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you like chains. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ll make everything perfect for us. You’ll see.”

His voice was dreamy, filled with devotion.

You stared at the ceiling, your heart pounding with one single thought.

You had to get out.

Before it was too late.

@semisasseater

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bucks-babe · 10 months ago

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How Can I Forget You?

Follow my sideblog @bucks-babesideblog for updates on when I post

Pairing: Bucky x reader x Steve, Stucky x reader, Stucky

Summary: I literally don’t know how to summarize this. 40’s Bucky and Steve go to war, then you know what happens to them, Ladybird is left in the 40’s. Steve and Bucky are in the future. Will they get their Ladybird back?

Warnings: Angst (a lot of it), fluff, poly relationship, pre serum Steve, 40’s Bucky and Steve, 21st century!Bucky and Steve, some gay sex because it was getting too sad (anal fingering, anal, grinding naked), Peggy was never with Steve, implied suicide by alcohol, death of the reader in the 40’s, pet names (darling, ladybird, dumpling), crying, Jewish!Bucky, nostalgia, time jumps, happy ending because who do you think I am, I am not paying for anyone's therapy just so you know

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's body type nor race. Part of this fic does take place in the 40's, but I wanted to have a blank reader so that readers from any race can imagine themselves as Ladybird. There is no mention of period related homophobia because this shit was already too damn sad. If I missed any warnings, please let me know becuase I know that this fic is angsty and I want to make sure that everyone knows what they are getting into. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for sacrificing her mental health for this fic 🤘

“Stevie, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?” Steve blushes and hides his face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “Don’t hide from me, punk, can’t see those pretty eyes anymore.” Running his fingers through Steve’s soft hair and trailing his hand down to the back of the smaller man’s neck, he gently brings his head back up, appreciating the soft, pink glow on his lover’s cheeks.

“Buck,” Steve trails off, not able to form a complete sentence when Bucky is looking at him like this - like he is gorgeous and not scrawny or undesirable. He doesn’t fight when Bucky brings their lips together, moaning at the taste of Bucky’s last cigarette. His eyes flutter as they pull away, both of their pupils blown, lips swollen and cheeks red. “You know, smoking is bad for you.”

Bucky grabs Steve and lays down on the couch, Steve resting between his legs. “I’m going to live until I’m 100, Stevie, smoking or not. You, my dear, are the one we need to worry about.”

“Like hell, you’re going to live that long with those habits. I’m healthy, it’s the doctors that keep telling me I’m not fit to join the army.” Bucky sighs. No matter how much he tries to stop Steve from enlisting, it never works. Not even their Ladybird can convince him.

“Stevie, please. I don’t want to hear anymore talk about this. Not today.” It’s their Ladybird that speaks, voice thick with emotion, yet stern. Neither of her boys would disobey her. She sets the tray with their sandwiches down and quickly leaves the room, palms frantically trying to smooth her dress down, pressing wrinkles that don’t exist.

Today was the day that Bucky had to leave. He didn’t enlist, not when his Ladybird wanted him at home, safe with her and Steve. She was terrified that he wouldn’t come home, leaving her and Steve behind.

But Steve was more stubborn than his man, not accepting staying at home when the men of his country are risking their lives. He needed to protect his country. “Stay here, dumpling.” Leaving a kiss on his forehead, Bucky follows Ladybird into the kitchen.

Two strong arms wrap around her waist and the tears she was desperate to hold in, cascade down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she spent so much time on. She was trying to be strong for him, support him before sending him off, but it was too much. Knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and these could be her final memories of him, was too overwhelming.

“I know, Ladybird, I know. I promise you that I’ll come home, okay? I can’t leave my best girl and guy alone.” She turns in his arms and his calloused palms rest on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the stream of mascara running down her face.

“Steve, he, he can’t enlist, Buck. He just can’t. How am I supposed to stay here knowing that the loves of my life are out there, getting shot at, bombs going off, huh?” Steve sneaks in, snaking his arms around her waist.

“For you, Ladybird, I won’t. I’ll wait here with you, send Bucky letters, keep you safe, okay?” She knew it was a lie; Steve could never lie, but she chose to believe him in that moment. Maybe for her own sanity, or maybe just to savor the last moments she would ever get to spend with her men.

She was Bucky off, waving to him when he boarded the train, but when Steve left the house for errands she knew where he was going - she never saw him again, but she knew it was for his love for her and Bucky. She didn’t blame him.

***

When Steve woke up from the ice, the first thing he did was see if his Ladybird was still alive. From the moment he got the serum, he regretted lying to her. He knew when he looked in her eyes, she knew what he was going to do; she accepted his choice. It was who he was and she wouldn’t dream of him being anything else.

He cried that night, when Fury gave him the documents he so graciously printed from Google. Ladybird died only a few years after he went on ice. She never moved on. They said it was a broken heart, but the 40’s would never report a woman drinking herself to death, wallowing in the sorrow of lost love.

It was his fault. Maybe she could have healed from the loss of Bucky if he was there. It would never take away the pain, but she would have one of them, but he left her behind. He would visit her grave daily; her body six feet below him, wearing the dog tags of her lovers.

The pain was eased when he found Bucky. They had each other. Even when he couldn’t remember much, Bucky remembered his Ladybird. Steve wishes he could forget the day he had to tell the man he loved that their girl was dead.

“I still want to be with you, Steve.” It took a while before Bucky was stable enough to choose to love again, but it was never a hard decision. The love for Steve too much to ignore.

Their first time was much different from the 40’s. They both changed so much - Steve more so than Bucky. They couldn’t get each other naked fast enough, kisses and loving touches scattered throughout.

Bucky didn’t feel embarrassed by his arm, not when Steve’s eyes were filled with so much love and lust. Bucky had to look away, his eyes landing on his boyfriend’s cock. “Oh my god, Steve!” He didn’t mean to gawk but he couldn’t help it. Steve went from slightly below average to very much above it. Long and thick, veins pulsing through his cock, supplying enough blood to keep his large erection up.

“What? Oh.” Steve’s signature blush crept up his cheeks just like it used to. Even though his body changed so dramatically, he was still the same boy from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with. “You’re bigger too, Buck.” Steve shied away from Bucky’s gaze, worried about how Bucky’s cock was going to fit inside of him.

“It hasn’t changed that much, dumpling.” It was almost true. Bucky was always above average - maybe seven inches. He was always thick, but now? His cock looked like it doubled in thickness, and around an inch added to his length.

“Yeah, right.” Bucky beamed at Steve as he became more comfortable under Bucky’s gaze.

“Well, how about we compare sizes then?” They both groan at the first contact in years, dicks pressed against each other. “Won’t you look at that, you’re bigger than me, dumpling.” Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. There was no way that he was bigger than Bucky.

Nonetheless, Steve looks down, almost cumming at the sight of his lover’s cock leaking onto his. His eyes widened; he was bigger than Bucky. It was only by an inch, even with the serum thickening his cock, Bucky was still much thicker. “Good boy, see how pretty your cock is? Fuck, missed you so much.”

Bucky groans in between words as he grinds against Steve, cock pushed harder against his. Steve’s hands find the sides of Bucky’s face, pulling him down in a heated kiss while ropes of his cum shoot out onto both of their stomachs and chests. Bucky follows right after, not able to handle the pleasure the simple grind of their hips brings him as they both share their first orgasm since the 40’s.

He collapses on Steve’s chest while they both catch their breath. “Darling, I need your cock in me. Need to feel how you stretch me out.” Bucky’s cock instantly hardens.

“Fuck, dumpling, we don’t have lube.” Even in his lust filled state, Bucky knows that going any further would hurt.

“Don’t need it. Look at all our cum.” Bucky looks down and whimpers. The serum really did a number on them. His first orgasm in 80 years was a lot. The mixture of their cum was dripping down Steve’s sides and leaking down Bucky’s chest. He quickly dips down to get a mouthful of their cum, moaning as he shares it with Steve. “You taste just as good as I remember, Buck.”

Bucky scoops a generous amount onto two of his fingers while Steve eagerly spreads his legs, presenting his tight hole to his partner. At this moment, it’s just the two of them. The pain of their Ladybird is gone, if only momentarily.

The moan that leaves Steve’s lips as Bucky’s first finger breeches his hole is almost enough to have him cumming untouched. He doesn’t know how long he stretches Steve out for, but it was enough time to have Steve cumming on his chest again, giving Bucky more lube to use.

“Ready, dumpling? Ready for your sergeant’s cock?” Steve only moans, frantically nodding his head. No one would have thought that the tough captain was so submissive in bed. Bucky strokes his cock with Steve’s spend a few times before lining up with his stretched out hole.

He meets little resistance as his tip slips in. “Fuck, Steve. Think you’re even fucking tighter.” He has to close his eyes, balls pulsing and pulling up already. Steve’s tight ass ready to suck all of his cum out.

“Uh, uh, just bigger. So much bigger.” Steve’s mind was empty, only wanting his ass full. He cries when Bucky hikes his legs up, wanting to be as close as possible. “Wait, please.” Bucky immediately eases his cock out, knowing that he’s a lot bigger to take now. After a few minutes, Steve’s breath evens out and his eyes lock with Bucky’s, nodding at his lover.

As gently as he can, Bucky slides back inside his ass, slowly feeding Steve inch after inch. “How full are you, Stevie?” It wasn’t smug; Bucky needed to know that Steve was okay. Leaning down, Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, staring into his eyes. Tears fall from both of their eyes, connected so intimately again.

“So full, Buck.” He leans up to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, neither able to think straight, let alone kiss properly.

“I love you so fucking much, dumpling.” Steve cries out, hips jerking in an attempt to take more of his sergeant’s dick. As Bucky’s hips rest against Steve’s center, they both cum, chanting each other’s name like a mantra, whispers of their love passed back and forth. Neither of them can stop, trying to make up for all the years spent apart. All the years each spent mourning the loss of the other.

By the end of the night, they’re both spent. Cuddled in each other’s arms, Bucky is the first to break the silence. “Is it just me, or does this almost feel wrong without Ladybird?”

“It does, but she wouldn’t want us to stop loving each other.” Bucky doesn’t respond, caught up in his own mind. The pain from losing their Ladybird would never go away and they both knew that.

***

“Dumpling, you should stay there.” It’s said so quietly that if Steve wasn’t a super soldier he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?” Steve pulls away, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“You should stay with her. You deserve it - she deserves it.” Bucky hangs his head, not able to look Steve in the eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“No. After all I’ve done, I’d only taint her. She doesn’t deserve that.” It was a decision that Bucky thought long and hard about.

“You think she would believe that? That I would? I just lost you, Buck and you’re asking me to do it again.” Steve stands and paces around the room, not able to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying.

“Think about it, Stevie. At least she would have one of us. You know what happened when she found out we both were ‘dead.’”

“Drop it, okay?” And Bucky did, but he planted the seed inside Steve’s mind.

***

“I’ll never stop loving you, Darling.” Bucky nodded, failing to hold in his tears, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see his best guy.

“Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“You know I will.” He grabs Bucky’s face, sharing their last kiss, tears mixing together. “And don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” His voice cracks, saying his final goodbye.

Bucky swallows hard. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He caresses Steve’s cheek once more and pats it, letting his hand fall down. They look at each other in silence, burning this memory into their brains.

He can’t bear to look at Bucky when he gets on the pad.

***

Steve’s throat is tight as he looks at his old brownstone. His Ladybird is right behind the door, having no idea who is outside. He picks up the spare key - exactly where it always was.

He has to close his eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the home he shared with his two loves. Stepping over the threshold, he sees her and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Ladybird?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so unsure and in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Her head whips around; the dish she was washing shatters as it hits the ground. “Stevie?” His feet are glued to the ground, back hitting the closed door as he tries not to fall to his knees. “Is it really you?” Unlike him, Ladybird sprints to him, her dress fluttering at the speed she moves, the dog tags of her lovers jiggle with every step.

She almost tackles him to the ground, arms intertwined around his neck, legs clutching his waist. He catches her easily, his own arms squeezing her to his chest. Both of their sobs mix together as Steve drops down on the couch, legs no longer able to hold him up. “I thought you were dead. They send soldiers here and everything.” Steve couldn’t form an explanation, too caught up in her entire being.

He can only pull her into a kiss. It was messy, full of tears and snot, but neither of them cared. She didn’t know how long he waited for this moment. They held each other for hours, crying and kissing. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms.

Steve didn’t have it in him to put her down as he went around the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The kitchen table, engraved with all their initials, still had three chairs around it, each one in different states of ruin - Bucky always flopped in his chair leaving the legs wobbly. Steve’s favorite mug sat on the lowest shelf, right where pre-serum Steve could reach, even though Bucky loved to put it up higher so that Steve had to ask for his help.

The living room still held the old rickie bookshelf that Ladybird insisted that she could put together by herself, no matter how many times her men offered help. Upon it was Bucky’s first edition copy of The Hobbit. He and Ladybird would always make fun of him for how much time, money, and effort he spent just to get that book - Steve placed it in a box along with the recipes from Mrs. Barnes.

The bedroom made his breath hitch, his arms instinctively holding Ladybird closer. His favorite chair, ripped in multiple spots, sat in the corner of the room, right by the window. Right next to it was his stand where his old sketchbook sat untouched - he put that in the box too. Bucky’s side of the closet hung his clothes, neatly arranged in order of his favorites, while Steve’s clothes lay on the ground in a pile, always too lazy to fold them.

The top left dresser draw held the photo album Ladybird made them for Christmas/Hanukkah - that went in the box. Ladybird’s jewelry box had a necklace with the Star of David that she saved for to get Bucky on his birthday. Bucky gave it back to her before he left for safekeeping - in the box it went. On top of the dresser were all the letters she sent to Bucky and Steve, along with the letters they sent her. The army gave them back to her with their dog tags - Steve made sure to not damage them as they were placed in the box.

***

The team shared gasps and whispers between themselves as Steve reappeared with a woman in one arm and a small box in the other. He whispers something in her ear before pointing in the distance.

A gorgeous smile graces her lips as her eyes meet Steve’s target. She doesn’t hesitate to sprint across the grass, bare feet and ignoring all of the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t hear the beat of her steps, overwhelmed at the loss of both of his partners.

He doesn’t know what hit him as he falls to the ground. Kisses are placed all over his face. For a second, he thinks that he’s dreaming because he would know her smell anywhere, the feeling of her lips ingrained in his mind. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t hear her voice, always muffled and distant, but it was clear as day as he lay on the soft ground.

“Bucky!” He has to grab her face to stop her assault, pulling her back far enough to confirm that it was real, that his Ladybird was in his arms.

“Bird? Oh my god.” He pulls her back down, showering her with affection, practically rolling them around in the grass, not caring about the audience that slowly surrounded them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her tears come back once again. His hair was longer, worry lines sprinkled around his face, cool metal pressed against her right cheek, his right hand more callused than before. Steve told her a bit about what happened, about how Bucky lost his arm, how insecure he felt because of it.

Without pause, she tilts her head, soft lips placed delicately on his metal palm. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Stuck in their own little bubble, they don’t notice Steve laying beside them until his arms wrap around them both.

With one look he gets the rest of the Avengers to leave them in peace. Unlike his past self, Steve could lie when he needed to. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have let him go to return the stones if he knew Steve wasn’t going to stay. Laying a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, Steve takes in the sight before him, all of them together at last.

“Bucky, you were right. I did take all the stupid with me.” Bucky’s tear streaked face looks over at his partner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dumpling.” For the first time since before the war, all three of them felt at peace, finally in each other’s arms again. It may have taken 80 some years, but none of them would change a thing if there was even the smallest chance that they wouldn’t end up together.

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kisseobie · 7 months ago

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day 5 of piwontober 24’ ✶ “wine pon you”

prompt: food play/biting/marks/drunk sex with hwang intak

pairings: intak x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni), sex under the influence, dubious consent

word count: 5.1k

tags: alcohol use (only intak is drunk), clubbing, biting and marking, drunk sex, one night stand, stripper reader, smoking, infatuation, brief mentions of vomit, intak is whipped as hell lmaoo, rizztak 🙈, giggly sex, no attachment, pov switches, blowjob, vaginal penetration

a/n: hi everyone <3 i wasn’t expecting to take this prompt so i’m sorry if this sucks but hehe first kisseobie piwontober 24’ fic 💟 loveeeee me some sleazy intak so i hope u all enjoy! i didn’t use the foodplay prompt btw lol not my thing unfortunately..

sorry for posting so late by the way! :( i hope the unusually long length makes up for it :3

full piwontober 24’ masterlist here ❤︎ ིུ͠*:·.

buzzed bodies and a powdery scent of pungent perfume, it’s nothing out of the ordinary for intak, comforting even. he wouldn’t necessarily call himself addicted, but his feet drag him down a couple of blocks to the same strip joint more often than the man would like to admit. the establishment isn’t stellar in any means, nothing to write home about. the selections of liquor are not to intak’s liking, the rainbow lights flicker in a manner that’s almost nauseating, and the dj can’t bump a track for shit.

intak knows that an intense infatuation with a certain stripper isn’t necessarily something applaudable, and if anything, his roommate jiung would laugh his ass off at the revelation, but he can’t find it in himself to really care. not when you take the stage, chunky heels clacking against the shiny floor, bedazzled top hit with a beam of white light, cascading diamond-like forms across the walls. intak watches your every twist and turn so intensely, like the show was specifically crafted for his eyes only, a personal love letter addressed to hwang intak—signed xoxo, y/n.

intak watches as you slide effortlessly against the metal pole, the cool rod leaving a trail of goosebumps on the surface of your smooth skin. he likes that about you, that despite the fact that you’re just a mere fantasy for him, you’re human—something real. it presents itself in different ways, he’s been coming here long enough to notice the way your muscles sometimes tremble in exertion during a particularly difficult move, or how you subtly tuck away stray pieces of pretty hair that stick to the gloss on your lips. he notices it all. he wonders if you notice him too.

your dance routine ends and intak finds himself plopped on a lonely barstool, downing some bottom shelf bourbon—nothing out of his typical routine here, really. he can feel the blaring music, the thumping of the beat coursing through his entire being, only aided by the incessant hollers of drunk partygoers. it however, does nothing to distract his thoughts from you—pretty skin, pretty hair, pretty teeth, and a nice set of tits too. the man feels like a pervert, coming to the same shit club every weekend to get a glimpse of his sweetheart, the dreamy girl that most likely doesn’t give a damn about him. intak sighs, and then takes another swig.

“pretty boy is here again. sat right up at the front, probably trying to take a sniff at your panties or somethin’.”

“stop that. he seems nice.” you shoot back, but only snickers from the girls in the locker room follow. they think you’ve got some weird situationship going with the guy, you suppose.

you were aware of the mystery boy of course, he watched your every show without fail, drank his bodyweight at the bar, and ended the night by clumsily wobbling out of the club, only to come back the next weekend and follow the same tired routine. he is a pretty boy, you’ll give him that. dark eyes that twinkle ever so slightly, a lopsided grin permanently etched on his face when he watches you dance, lean body that accentuates his height well.

despite the fact that he’s charming, you don’t miss the way he adjusts his pants when you’re on stage, or how he sometimes leaves to the bathroom after you’ve finished, presumably to relieve the obvious tent in his pants when you roll your hips against the pole just right. he’s just another sleaze, a pretty one maybe, but a sleaze nonetheless. you sure aren’t fooled, even if his dedication to your performances is intriguing.

“hey y/n, if you don’t want him, i’ll take him. he looks pent up, the poor guy.” your coworker jokes, but you pay no mind to the teasing. you have a show to put on, whether the pretty boy watches or not.

meaningless conversation ends and you situate yourself on top of the dirty dressing room bench, slipping on your heels, a dazzling crimson red and eight inches tall. opting for no tights today, you examine how the shoe emphasizes the length of your shaved legs—in other words, you know you’re gonna make a few extra tips tonight. your mouth waters at the thought of buying yourself a nice breakfast in the morning, maybe a stack of blueberry pancakes with extra whipped cream?

after some waiting backstage, the club’s owner, a pudgy old man you’ve never quite gotten along with, announces your name with a cheesy slogan. a few men hoot and holler, clearly ready to eye you down like a fresh piece of meat for their tasting. the lights dim as the velvet cheetah-printed drapes part to reveal you in all your glory, dressed to the nines, even if the clothing you adorn is sparse. the music cues, and you walk, letting the crowd drink you in like a tall glass of wine. as you strut to the beat with a shimmery smile, you unconsciously scan the audience, eyes honing in on one man in particular. he’s here, of course he is, staring at you as if you hung the stars for him, and you might as well have, judging from the gobsmacked look on his face. you shoot him a sly wink before turning to the pole, gyrating your hips against the metal before latching your legs onto the very material. it’s exhilarating as it is exhausting.

a few dozen twists and turns on the rod later, your practiced routine finally comes to a close. the cheers are loud, they always are. you collect tips from wrinkly hands, blowing kisses and shooting winks at all sorts of men—married, recently divorced, rich, poor—it doesn’t matter to you, you aren’t one to judge. when you’re done collecting dollar bills and desperate notes with numbers scribbled across, your vision catches pretty boy making his way to the bar, greeting theo, the bartender always on night duty, like an old time friend.

“you come here often?” intak teases at taeyang, who stares back at him with his arms crossed, visibly unamused. the man gives it to intak straight, an admirable quality for sure, though some may call him too blunt for his own good. your show ended a few hours ago, and intak’s been perched on this very stool, drinking glass after glass, hoping it’ll clear his thoughts that seem to only focus on you.

“don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink? you look like shit. if you puke on my countertop you’re cleaning that shit up yourself.” theo scolds, but there’s no malice in his tone, a little bit of disinterest and concern maybe, but no malice. intak lazily raises his hand in the air with his head down, a nonverbal way of saying “i know, i’m gonna get going.” that taeyang can read every time with ease. the man with shoulder-length hair audibly sighs.

“she’s nothing but a fantasy man, let it go. you come here every weekend just to sit and watch a girl out of your reach. it’s getting pathetic.”

intak winces at the harsh words, but smiles nonetheless. he gets up with some effort and pulls a few crinkled twenties out of his pocket, slapping them on the table in between them with a, “always a pleasure talking to you, theo”. taeyang scoffs, grabbing the bills to place them in the register. “yeah yeah, get home safe.”

intak stumbles out of the stuffy club with a headache, already dreading the inevitable hangover he’ll have in the morning. he waves his arm around aimlessly, hoping to signal a taxi, eyes wandering around the street in boredom until they catch onto a familiar figure sat on the hood of a car. you’re wearing a fuzzy long coat, shielding you from the cold of the night as you cup your hand around a lighter. intak watches you take a deep drag from a lit cigarette, blowing the swirly smoke into the autumn air with an indifferent expression on your face. your hair blows in the wind, but you pay no mind to it, seemingly lost in thought. intak rubs at his eyes with closed fists to be sure you aren’t a figment of his imagination—he’s never seen you away from the limited space of the stage.

before he can talk himself out of it, the boy crosses the street, hands in his pockets as he takes slow, hesitant steps towards you. you’re even prettier like this, intak thinks, not faking a smile for some fast cash, wrapped up in a big coat that makes you look so incredibly small, scrolling on your outdated phone with sleepy eyes. he’s never seen someone so beautiful.

“hey.” are his first words directed at you, a little lame but they grab your attention nonetheless. you jump at his voice, clearly not expecting to entertain a conversation this late at night. intak waits awkwardly as you scan him from head to toe, a hint of what looks like recognization in your eyes. you give him a tight lipped smile, obviously nervous because of the sudden encounter. he can’t blame you, he supposes, not when you’re in this line of work. he probably isn’t the first man to approach you, and most definitely not the last either.

“hi?” is how you answer, hesitant but oh so curious. he’s always been a wallflower from what you know, watching from a distance but never one to approach. the change in routine is certainly sparking your interest, and you wait with bated breath for him to come clean, to reveal his true intentions towards you, good or bad.

“i’ve seen you dance a few times. you’re really good.” intak sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck all shy, as if he hadn’t watched you dry hump the floor half naked earlier. his timidness is frankly a bit refreshing, usually an attendee of one of your shows would have tried to get in your pants by now.

“thank you. i’ve seen you in the crowd, y’know. you never tip me, so i can’t be all that good, can i?” you tease, but the question does hold some truth in it. he hasn’t tipped you a single dollar since stepping in the club for the first time, another useless observation of yours.

“sorry.” he blurts out, cheeks red with embarrassment, like a kid who got caught stealing out of the family cookie jar. you hold back a snort at his flustered expression, you were merely teasing the boy. no hard feelings. “it’s all good. a bit curious as to why you come to see me every weekend though. or maybe you’re just here for the drinks, who knows.”

intak laughs at that. “when all the club supplies is whiteclaws and cheap bourbon? i could get better drinks at the supermarket.”

“well you’re right about that,” y/n affirms with a giggle. “so then, what is it? what draws you here every weekend, pretty boy?” you know the answer, but you’d like to hear it straight from the source. it’s more fun that way.

intak sighs, and then reaches his arm out to shake hands, to which you raise an eyebrow, but accept the kind embrace anyways. his hands are warm, a bit sweaty too. he sports no rings, and his fingers are a bit calloused, it makes you wonder what the guy does for work—welding, maybe?

“i’m intak.” a beat passes. you smile, all teeth and gums, and shake his hand in return.

“y/n. it’s nice to meet you, intak.”

intak’s room is warm, a welcomed contrast to the depressing weather outside. not the cleanest living space, with socks hanging from drawers and far too many lopsided posters pasted onto his walls, but strangely enough, it’s comforting. before now, hwang intak to you was always a man of great mystery, but his cluttered apartment humanizes him. there are a few framed photos propped up on his messy desk, old ones, showcasing intak as a young boy, smiley as ever with his arms draped over various shoulders of people you don’t quite recognize. he’s got some little notes written on the glass frames as well, one in particular catching your eye, a scribbled “my first drink EVER! it tasted like shit!!”. it makes you smile, similar to how the sight of an excited puppy playing fetch would.

as you snoop around intak’s bedroom, your thoughts start to wander to earlier tonight, when you took the stage and locked eyes with the man whose very space you’re currently occupying. his legs spread, chest puffed, jaw slack as he watched you perform with a needy look on his face, practically eye-fucking you across the dim room. it should have disgusted you, it definitely did with every other man who saw you as a mere object of their perverted desires, a sex symbol that they couldn’t live without. there was something different about the boy though, something that made you crave a single night with him. it’s why you accepted his offer to come over to his place with little to no deliberation, despite you swearing to yourself countless of times in the past that you’d never let a random man take you home.

intak’s currently in his bathroom, hyping himself up in front of his mirror as best as he can, fearful that he’ll screw this up and scare you away forever. he can be a bit clingy when intoxicated, sometimes sappy too—a fact that jiung can attest to. the boy would be absolutely mortified if his drunk tendencies landed him on the club’s hefty blacklist, so he takes a deep breath and gives himself an internal pep talk to loosen up: “intak, you’ve got this man. she wouldn’t have taken your offer to come over if she thought you were a weirdo. get back in there, bro.”

intak places a final kiss onto his flexed bicep as good luck, then cringes at himself before taking a deep inhale, brows furrowed in concentration. he walks out of the bathroom and opens his bedroom door, gasping aloud at the delicious sight he’s met with. you’re not wearing your coat anymore, nor your dancing heels, left very naked besides the crimson panties you wore for your earlier performance. your draped over his bed, leaning across the width of the mattress, supporting your weight with one hand planted firmly on intak’s bed, the other raised up to your line of sight as you examine your coffin nails before you take notice of intak’s presence. intak resists slapping himself across the face, not wanting to seem like even more of an idiot after you teased him just an hour ago for never tipping you during your shows. instead, he just stands and stares, gobsmacked at the view, you sat atop of his bed, perky tits out, nipples hard and waiting for his attention.

“you gonna stand there all night or..” is all you can manage to get out before the man takes fast strides towards you and pulls you into a desperate kiss. you moan into his mouth, tongue swiping against his, tasting nothing but bourbon and musk, the flavor provoking a throbbing heat to your core. his dominance seeped into the hot kiss, presenting itself in the way he grabbed at your cheeks roughly, how his tongue shoved itself in your mouth so sloppily, how his lips travelled to the nape of your neck, leaving bite marks in their wake. he was experienced for sure, and thank god for it, because the makeout sesh alone had your typically level-head clouded with yearning and lust.

without proper warning, intak’s calloused hands travelled to your boobs, the rough contact against your soft skin making you mewl. he groped at the flesh with eagerness, replacing his left hand with his tongue as he circled your bud with the wet muscle, flicking it with a deep groan. his mouth latched onto your left tit, suctioning the area with just the right amount of pressure. you let your hand slip into the tufts of his jet black hair, tugging at the strands every time intak bit at your skin. the boy maneuvered his head to give the same attention to your right boob, but not without replacing the left with his hand, his own spit thinly coating his palm as he squeezed.

a few minutes passed just like that, with intak worshipping your boobs like an artist intensely dedicated to their craft. the man unlatched his lips from your chest with a loud pop, placing a single kiss on each of your nipples before sitting back and admiring his work. your skin was now littered with red and purple marks, all from intak and none unwelcome. “pretty.” he remarks, staring at your tits like a man starved. the attention has you dripping, pussy weeping for contact, to which you subtly make an attempt at rubbing your thighs together to bring temporary relief to your aching cunt. intak takes notice of this, smirking at you, facial features sporting a knowing look.

“intak, wanna see you please.” you beg, craving to see what the man looks like underneath the thin layer of his clothes. “fuck, yeah, okay,” he responds, his voice breathless—all a result of you, only you. “it’s only fair i give you a show too, right?” he jokes, the lightheartedness soothing any nerves you may have had earlier. “right.” you affirm with a focused expression, before giggling back at him. intak steps a few feet away from his bed, eyes locked on yours as he cheekily pulls off his own coat. his black wife beater follows, giving you the liberty to drool at the view of his sculpted abs. your line of sight travels downwards, to where you can spot a prominent v-line, along with the beginning of a trail of pubic hair—not too long, but still present, not that you mind.

intak starts to tug at his belt buckle, but you’re quick to sit at the edge of the bed, feet tucked snug under your thighs as you replace his hands with your own. you free the boy from the tight constraints of his jeans, leaving him in only his boxer briefs. they’re red in color, almost matching the hue of your own underwear. you can spot the thick outline of his cock, already hard and practically slipping out of his briefs. there’s also a wet patch of precum oozing out of the elastic material, and you can’t stop yourself from drooling at the thought of tasting him.

before you free his girth out of its constraints, you leave a few sloppy kisses and kitten licks right on top of the cloth, his subdued scent and taste overtaking your senses. intak may be the only one under the influence, but you could get drunk just off of this, especially with the way the man bites his lip at your gentle contact, a strangled “fuck..” leaving his lips. you quit your teasing after a few more licks, pulling down intak’s underwear in one swift movement, almost immediately grabbing at his length with a closed fist and pumping at a steady pace. intak’s reaction is immediate, head thrown back with a loud groan, eyes momentarily rolled to the back of his skull as his hips buck upwards into your fist. you’ve barely done anything and the man already seems close to cumming—it’s as cute as it is dirty, the way he melts into your touch, so pliant and oh so desperate.

“y/n, let me fuck your face.” intak pleads, eyes as twinkly as ever. you reply by guiding his mushroom tip into your open mouth, slowly sinking your mouth onto his length as far as you can go. you look up at intak, mouth full of cock and tears threatening to spill from your lined waterline, silently giving the man a go at your throat. he wastes no time in thrusting into the heat, whimpering and swearing at the way you suction your lips. he speeds his hips to set a near animalistic pace, resulting in you spluttering on him as the force of his thrusts hit against the back of your throat. just as you’re about to tap out, pinch at intak’s thick thighs and catch your breath, salty seed slips into your mouth, coating your throat white. you pull off of him to cough and swallow, looking absolutely defiled in front of the man. for some reason, the fact doesn’t bother you one bit, instead, you only wish for him to rough you up some more, to give you his all, even if it’s just for a single night. even if come tomorrow morning, you’ll slip out of his blankets, leaving no signs that you were ever there.

intak hunches over your frame to capture your slick lips into a messy kiss for the nth time tonight. he can taste his ecstasy on your tongue, savoring the flavor far more enthusiastically than he would any drink served at your club. you loop your arms around his broad neck, pulling him closer and closer until you both are pressed flush against each other, with your back, a bit sweaty, meeting the soft fabric of his linen sheets. intak ruts his swollen, sensitive cock against your crotch, still shielded by your panties. despite the barrier of cloth, intak can feel how wet you are—he grins at that, knowing that he’s the one who’s making you all hot and bothered. he feels like he’s on top of the world, with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, occupying his sheets and pleading for his touch.

“jesus babe, you’re soaked. all this for me?” intak muses aloud, obviously proud of himself at affecting you just as much as you’ve affected him. if he wasn’t so worried about first impressions, he’d pump his fist in the air.

“all for you takkie, now help me get rid of these panties already.” you demand, followed by a flirtatious wink that almost makes intak buckle at the knees. the man drops his head to where he has the perfect view of your crimson panties, contrasting beautifully against your shiny skin. red had always been his favorite color, after all. intak mimics your tactic on his cock from earlier, placing feather light kisses on your inner thighs, and eventually on your clothed mound, too. you whine at his teasing, but it’s only fair he returns the favor, isn’t it?

your scent is heaven on earth to him. delicate and strong at the same time, flowery musk coating his nostrils—it’s so irrevocably girl. the boy takes his sweet time inhaling your smell, completely ignoring your protests. you beg a little more, and always one to please, intak latches his teeth onto the waistband of the silk, tugging it off with his canines while looking you right in the eye. he’s so sexy like this, you think, in between your thighs, already pussy drunk, but slow enough in his movements so the pair of you can properly savor the moment. you appreciate his pace; it’s rare when a man doesn’t insist on sticking it in as soon as you’ve been undressed. intak is kinder than that.

his teeth continue to tug your panties down the length of your legs, until they slip off completely, leaving you completely bare are vulnerable. intak sweetly folds your panties and places them at the edge of the bed, knowing that they must have costed you a pretty penny, before shifting his unwavering attention to your sopping cunt. he stares for a bit, making you a bit shy to the point where you start to close up your legs, but intak is faster, prying them open with force. the dominance that he now exudes is salivating, and you wait, curious as to what his next move will be.

“pretty face, pretty hair, pretty tits, pretty pussy. how are you real?” intak questions you, but his deep eyes are still glued to your cunt, throbbing and calling out for his touch. light and gentle or hard and rough, it doesn’t matter anymore. you just want him, willing to take anything he’ll give you with obedience and a smile. it’s been too long since you’ve been worshipped like a goddess, rather than painted as prey for predator.

instead of intak touching you where you need him most, he leaves scattered bites across the skin of your inner thighs, completely neglecting your cunny to mark you instead. in reality, intak knows that no amount of biting will make you his, and he’ll be back at the club next weekend, watching you perform once more with a glass of bourbon in hand. the realization sends a pang of hurt to his heart, but he bandaids the wound by showing you a good time—a great time, even. it’s all he can do, and do it right he will. so he ignores the ticking of his obnoxious alarm clock, redirecting his focus once more to your cunt.

his digits reach out to explore your pussy, swiping and swirling around the surface in a plethora of ways. intak gauges your reactions to each touch, quickly catching on to what sensations make your legs shake and bottom lip wobble. oh how he’d love to get his mouth on you right now, have you fall apart on his tongue, but his cock throbs as he ruts his hips against his sheets, urging him to slam into your heat as soon as he possibly can. if he doesn’t, he might die this very minute, and so he does. removes his skinny fingers from your puffy bud, stands up and plants his feet onto his carpeted floor, grips onto your thighs to pull your weight to the edge of his bed.

“intak. condom.” you gently remind. as nice as he is, sexy too, you’d much rather protect yourself from some sexually transmitted disease, or worse, an unexpected bundle of joy that you cannot afford to bring into this world. not now, at least, and not with pretty boy intak.

“shit, yeah. sorry, let me get one real quick.” intak responds sheepishly, embarrassed that he’d let his lust take over without taking the proper precautionary steps beforehand. intak walks over to his bedside drawer, pulling out a wrapped piece of latex as fast as he can, clearly desperate to bury himself within your walls as soon as humanely possible. he repositions himself in front of you, cock standing tall, the tip red from the previous attention you gave it. he rips at the foil with haste, almost dropping the condom like a fucking idiot. you don’t let him linger in embarrassment, wrapping your manicured hand around his forearm before gently consoling him with a, “intak, relax. ‘s just me.”

that’s the problem, the fact that it’s you, is what intak thinks, but your words do help him calm down, even if it’s just a bit. he takes a deep breath and slips the rubber onto his length, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort. there’s none, of course, just pure lust, and your ready expression convinces the boy to sheath himself into your tight walls, pushing in inch by inch with little to no resistance—perks of you being so incredibly wet, he guesses.

you both moan at the stretch, the feeling so intense that intak may as well have crashed on top of you. he has half a mind to grip an arm onto the sheets, right next to your head. the position is awfully intimate for a one night stand, but neither of you have time to dwell on it when intak pulls his hips back slightly, only to piston back forward with a level of force you weren’t quite prepared for. the boy is quite literally the definition of pussy drunk, setting a desperate speed from the get-go and tucking his face into the nape of your neck. his lips are right underneath your ear, making it impossible to miss each and every one of his pathetically beautiful noises.

after awhile, intak adjusts the angle of his thrusts just a bit, and you cry out at the way his cock prods at your g-spot with the perfect amount of precision and pressure. “oh! right there, tak!” you moan out, attempting to meet his thrusts by pushing your own hips downwards. you clench around him in a vice grip, embarrassingly close already. it’s the first time a man has been able to draw out so many sounds from you, you’ve never felt so good before. intak nods at you each and every time you gasp aloud, egging on your, and his, inevitable orgasm.

intak breaks eye contact to look downwards, groaning at how your walls suction him in and leave a frothy white rim against the base of his dick. his length is coated with a sheen, certainly your wetness, and it only makes it that much easier for him to thrust into your gummy walls. the room feels about 20 degrees hotter now, with intak’s sweat dripping onto your chest like a leaking water faucet. he can’t smell the powdery perfume and whiteclaw breath from the club anymore, nose just picking up the scent of you—y/n.

a thumb circles your clit in quick motions, the final tipping point sending you to the edge with a pornographic, “fuck!”. your cunt flutters against intak’s girth, your legs tremble and spasm uncontrollably, eyes tearing up once again, no doubt ruining your carefully applied mascara as intak just fucks you through the most intense orgasm of your life. he’s not far behind, only pistoning into you a few dozen more times before unloading his cum into the rubber of the condom.

the pair of you stay silent to catch your breaths, intak still tucked within your cunt as he collects himself. a few minutes later has him pulling out of you with a hiss, cock sensitive from all the exertion. he flops onto the empty space next to you, turning his head to face you, you doing the same. you both giggle, still a bit breathless and so very satisfied.

you almost say something in the heat of the moment, something you’re sure to regret in the morning, but as you turn to look at intak once more, he’s fast asleep. a definite effect of all the drinks he had earlier. you lean over to place a single delicate peck on his cheek, dreading having to leave his side in the morning time, but you couldn’t get attached, not in this line of work. so you tucked yourself away from the boy—cuddling him would make it that much harder to leave him.

morning comes, as it usually does. intak wakes a bit later than usual, sunshine leaking through his thin curtains to shine directly into his eyes. he groans, sits up and stretches his arms real wide to wake himself up faster. as soon as a yawn exits his mouth, the man is hit with an intense headache that prompts him to grip at his forehead in discomfort. the events of the last night are a blur, but his lips remember sloppy kisses, ears remember giggles and whines, cock remembers a fair amount of attention. and then it all comes back to him. y/n.

he turns to his right, but there’s only emptiness beside him. the sheets, however, are crumpled in a way that suggest someone occupied the space not too many hours ago. but it doesn’t matter anyways. one night is all he asked for, and one night he got.

a knock at his wooden door startles intak, and a sleepy jiung enters the room with uncharacteristically hesitant steps. intak watches curiously as the shorter boy seats himself at the edge of his bed. jiung sighs, and then stares as intak with an expression full of pity that he doesn’t need right now. or ever.

“she was here last night, wasn’t she?” jiung asks, and intak can already hear the unwanted lecture that is sure to follow the question.

intak inhales. “yeah,” he chuckles, “she was.”

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