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backwash III | daisuke
author's note: thank you to literally everyone who’s reading this! you guys are so so sweet and i love you all <3 if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)
summary: (daisuke x f!reader) Sleep is increasingly hard to find on the Tulpar. At night the reader spends her time in the cockpit, thinking about home. When she feels the whim to sleep, she ventures back to the sleeping quarters, only to bump into Daisuke. Instead, she joins him for a midnight snack and some conversation in the lounge.
word count: 2,372
warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+
now playing: Dave Bixby - "Morning Sun"
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EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 034—
There was this movie I watched once when I was a kid, about a little girl who falls from the sky. Although I can’t remember the title of it now. I do remember that she was a part of another world, a part of something bigger. She was important. I don’t think you have us write these to talk about movies, do you? I’m sure you’d rather hear about the operations on board, or the technical difficulties, or if there’s been any damage to the cargo. You know, the “important stuff”. Everything is running smoothly so far. Is that good?
I want to be a part of something bigger one day. Hopefully this experience will help me. I’m grateful to have this opportunity.
DAY THIRTY-THREE—
Pony Express allowed a maximum of five hours of sleep to their employees on haul. During those five hours, the Tulpar was shadowed by a veil of utter stillness. A silence not too dissimilar to that of a library, or that painful pause in awkward conversation. It was too quiet, which led you to stare at the ceiling until the fatigue of work or boredom got the better of you. Even when you could fall asleep, it was far from restful. Over the past month you had gotten the worst sleep of your entire life thus far. Worse than when you lived in those co-ed dorms with unruly neighbors and argumentative hallways. Worse than those nights thunder cracked down from the darkened sky and you clutched stuffed animals in your chubby, child hands. After a certain point, you had given up on finding sleep at all.
The computer screens within the cockpit would beep on occasion, the sound barely audible over the soft plucking of guitar strings in your headphones. The coords of some old folk song filled your ears instead. You sat in the captain's chair, curling in on yourself with your knees to your chest and arms around your person. Your head snuggled into the dip in your legs, cheek pressed your knee cap as you stared at the sea of glowing green.
Curly had given you permission not too long ago to sit in the cockpit at night. Within the first month of your apprenticeship, you had grown on him quite a bit. The captain had always been a kindhearted person. He was a people pleaser to his core, a man simply happy to help. Curly saw a lot of himself in you, and he knew what it was like to feel, well, restless.
“As long as you promise not to touch anything,” he had said, prefacing his next words with a comforting smile, “you have my permission to use your clearance to the cockpit at night. But if word gets to the higher ups, they’ll have my head, understood? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
Normally, you tried to pay attention to how long you had been sitting there, keeping track of each song that played to count the minutes as they passed, but tonight you hadn’t. With a sigh, you reluctantly stood from Curly’s chair, deciding to give sleep another try. You slipped your Walkman into the pocket of your pajama pants and left the cockpit. Each step you took was quiet, almost imperceivable, as you walked down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. You didn’t want to disturb the others, although you had a feeling nobody else was sleeping all that well either. The rusted, trusty pipes groaned as you passed, their settling moans somehow bypassing the volume of your music. It made you feel uneasy. You reached into your pocket and turned the music up a bit in an attempt to drown out the sound.
Rounding the corner, you finally reached the door to the sleeping quarters. Just as you reached for the door handle, it slid open seemingly on its own, causing you to flinch. Standing there—holding a flashlight in one hand and with the other placed against his chest—was Daisuke, looking far more caught off guard than you felt. You winced as he shined the light directly into your eyes.
“Holy shit, dude,” he breathed, voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You straight up scared the hell out of me. What are you doing walking around in the dark?” Daisuke adjusted his aim and shot the beam at the ceiling instead, creating enough light for the two of you to see each other a little better.
With a soft laugh, you pulled your headphones from your ears, allowing them to hang around the back of your neck. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”
“You too?” Daisuke questioned.
“I’m surprised anyone can sleep on this thing,” you whispered. “Where are you going?”
His eyes dropped in embarrassment as he used his free hand to rub nervous circles against the side of his neck. “I’m… I’m grabbing a snack from the lounge. You wanna come?”
“Yeah, if you want me to.” You didn’t hesitate. Anything sounded better than tossing and turning. You stepped to the side, permitting him enough space to walk out of the doorway then alongside you.
Daisuke breathed a chuckle at your response. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”
“Then I guess I’m coming,” you said in a hushed, playful tone.
Daisuke looked at you with a smile and nodded, shining his flashlight down the hall as the two of you began to walk in silence. In the quiet of the hall, the door to the lounge seemed to open with a deafening wheeze. Deep, royal blue illuminated the large room. The night-time window screen displayed a starry sky with wisp-like clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly glow. It reminded you of going to the aquarium as a kid, surrounded by water and the smell of saltwater. You half expected to look up and see sharks and fish swimming overhead, but you knew all there would be was a dull, blank ceiling and slumbering lights.
Daisuke stuck his head through the doorway, peeking to see if anyone was already inside. When he determined that the coast was clear—although it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering the noise of the door, he motioned for you to follow him inside.
“Hell yeah! The place is ours,” Daisuke celebrated, speaking louder once the door closed behind you two. He walked toward the vending machines with long, intentional strides. You tread on his heels, gaze fixed on him in amusement as he looked over the different options.
You pulled your Walkman from your pocket, then leaned against the bar, palms pressed to the countertop as you pushed yourself up, and took a seat on the cool, brown laminate. “Is there normally someone else here?”
“Hmm?” He barely heard you, too fixated on what he was going to eat. As he processed what you had said, the words loading behind his eyes in a turning spiral, he ordered a pack of freeze-dried fruit and tore into the package. “Oh, nah. Not usually. I mean, I’ve seen Anya in here once or twice, but she’s always coming from medical bay. Getting coffee for those late nights, I guess.”
“She works too much,” you noted. “I wish she wouldn’t push herself like that.”
“You two seem close.” Daisuke approached, leaning against the counter beside you.
“Yeah. You could say that.” A tender smile graced your lips at the thought of you and Anya being close.
There was a pause, a brief lull in the otherwise newborn conversation. A series of crunches sounded from your right where Daisuke stood as he popped piece after piece into his mouth. You glanced over at him, the tenderness of your smile warping into something more entertained. He glanced over at you in turn, his mouth full of apple as he mustered a lopsided smile.
“Hey, it’s your Walkman,” he exclaimed after a swallow, pointing at the dated tech in your lap. “Whatcha listening to?”
“Oh,” you peeped with a suddenly flustered look on your face. “It’s a mix my mom made for me. Just a bunch of old folk stuff she used to play for me when I was little.”
“Can I listen?” he asked, shoving another piece of fruit in his mouth.
“S-Sure, yeah.” You unplugged your headphones and played the tape. It crackled, the old speaker not what it used to be. Or what it ever was, truthfully.
Maybe the quality of the sound would have bothered somebody else, but not Daisuke. As your small corner of the lounge filled with the sound of guitar—the stories of rural towns, first loves, and early mornings, Daisuke set his snack on the counter and listened intently. It was far from what he’d normally like, but something about listening to it here, with you made it sound perfect.
“It’s funny, actually. I never used to like this stuff back on Earth, but lately this is the only one I want to listen to,” you said over the music.
“You must really miss her.” Daisuke inched closer, standing less than a foot away from you as he leaned against the counter. His gaze flickered up to your face, quietly admiring the curves and arches of your profile. Under the blue light of the night time window screen, any blemish or imperfection on your face seemed to vanish. Not that he had ever noticed any imperfections on you. Matter of fact, for some reason, he couldn’t imagine seeing any part of you as imperfect. Even if he tried. There was a somber look in your expression as he spoke, one that made his stomach twist in knots.
“So much. I didn’t think it would be this hard being away from home.” Your voice was just above a whisper now. You felt your eyes begin to burn, the familiar sensation of tears welling in the corners as you tried to suppress the ebbing flow. With the shake of your head, you let out a quick laugh, feeling the tension gradually lifted from your shoulders. “What kind of music do you like?”
Daisuke didn’t blink or care about the change in discussion. He didn’t care about what the two of you talked about, and he wasn’t going to pry either. He knew that you would open when you felt comfortable enough to do so, and he was happy to wait however long that would take.
“A bit of everything, I guess. It kinda pisses me off when people say that and, like, they don’t actually mean it.” He slid his snack off of the bar and extended it to you, shaking it as the pieces inside rattled against each other. “I have a pretty impressive vinyl collection back home. Got everything from Etta James to Duster. You should see it sometime.”
Weakly, you smiled and took a piece of the fruit from the package. “Maybe when all of this is said and done. After the haul?”
“I’d love that,” Daisuke responded quickly, eyes trailing over your face. After another moment of silence, a brief break in conversation, he shifted on his heels and looked away. “So, you uh… you got anyone waiting for you back home? Y’know, like friends? A boyfriend? Or uh, a girlfriend? If you, like, swing that way or whatever. Which would be totally cool, obviously. I’ve got a bunch of gay friends-”
“Daisuke,” you said with a hint of that ever familiar amusement in your voice. “Relax, okay?”
He looked back at you and nodded. “Right, yeah… So, do you?”
“Friends? Yeah, a bunch. I miss them too. But a partner, not so much…” You felt your cheeks light up, a soft pink flush dusting the peaks of your cheekbones and the ridge of your nose.
“Hey, that’s cool,” he responded, bumping shoulders with you and trying not to sound too happy about your response. “Me neither. I mean, like I said, I’ve got loads of friends. Just not the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing.”
“Look at us,” you mused. “One in the same.”
“Yup, one in the same.” Daisuke glanced back at you hopefully, then looked away. He downed the rest of his dried fruit and crumpled up the package, tossing it in the direction of a nearby trashcan and missing by a couple feet. He winced, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“You gonna go get that?” you asked jokingly, pushed yourself from the countertop, and landed on your feet, securely tucking your Walkman back into your pocket as the music stopped.
“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the trash before picking it up and disposing of it properly. “It’s on the way out anyway. In fact, I meant to do that.”
You trailed after him, following close behind as the two of you approached the exit to the lounge. “Totally,” you teased, smiling up at him.
Yet again, the door slid open with that deafening screech as Daisuke and you left the lounge. Together, you walked back to the sleeping quarters. At the door, Daisuke turned to you and stopped. His brown eyes trailed over your features once more in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of the flashlight in his hands. Even in the blackness of the hallway, his smile was bright. His gap-toothed grin seemed almost bright enough to flood the entire hallway with light.
“Thanks for coming with me,” he spoke quietly.
“Thank you for inviting me,” you responded.
Daisuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words he wanted to say seemed caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded and displayed that same smile. Your brows furrowed questioningly, an expression that made his heart skip a bit. Before you could say anything, he opened the door to the sleeping quarters and ushered you inside.
“Goodnight, [Name]. See ya in the morning.” He bit his lip, walking backward toward his room and nearly stumbling when he reached the door.
“Sweet dreams, Daisuke.”
With that, you slipped into your room with a strange feeling in your chest. A tightness you hadn’t felt since high school, since hallway crushes and etching names into wooden picnic tables. An ache at the loss of his presence. How strange.
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pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii
#reader#x reader#reader insert#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x reader#daisuke x reader#daisuke#fem reader#curly mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing
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Taken Seriously // H.P x reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: Coming back to Hogwarts to start your 6th year, you had quite the “glow up” over the summer. You visited family over in America and may or may not have gotten several piercings. Most Hogwarts students were tame with their appearance, but you weren’t one to follow trends. How would a certain black haired boy react? Did you remind him of someone? (y/n/n: your nick name)
Author's Note: This one was written for me TBH. I am heavily tattooed and pierced and kinda day dream what a 24 year old me would look like in hogwarts. Not really aging up anyone to my age, but … yea know —
// Requests Open! Should I make this a series? //
Much love, Saige
———-
Your mother called you rebellious, in a loving way of course but she worried about sending you off to school a little more this year.
“Mom no one will probably care.” You laugh, her soft hands resting on your shoulders. She looks over your features once more, the sound of the train and whistles reminding you both that you needed to go. She sighed and placed a kiss between your eyes.
“I know. I love you for exactly who you are.” She smiled, pulling her hands back from your sides. You and your mom had a bond like no other, her scarlet hair matching yours, a small dimple on her left cheek, and a small birthmark placed between your eyebrows. You could’ve been twins in another life. Love radiated through you pulling her in for one more hug.
“I'll be home for the holidays. I promise.” You whispered into her ear. You felt her relax in your arms. You let go giving her a small wink grabbing your positions to board the train. You take a few steps looking back.
“Write to me! Please!” Your mom shouted toward you, her smile strong yet a tear dropping down her cheek. You blew her a kiss and nodded. You looked forward to following the small line of students through the train looking for any open seats. Unluckily for you, most compartments were full to the brim. Students you’ve never spoken to looked at you, some in awe, some in disdain. You shoved your bag over your shoulder and kept walking with your chin proudly.
You looked into a compartment immediately making eye contact with the group you dreaded the most, you turned and rolled your eyes but it was too late.
“OY! Look at the gryffindor rascal now” Draco started standing from his seat. “Looks like you got hit with some metal to the face. Was any of that intentional?” He started, his goons laughing. The students waiting around all turned tuning in to the scene enveloping. You tried to look forward ignoring him but the line of students wouldn’t budge. You were stuck like an animal in a zoo, all of these eyes bouncing between you and Malfoy.
“I'd never. Not that you were particularly pretty before, but this really didn’t help your case.” Pansy quipped. Not that you didn’t expect the backlash, especially from the prissy bitch herself, but hearing it was enough to make your blood boil. Over the summer you didn’t just get piercings, but you grew a few inches, your body stronger from quidditch practice. You felt more confident in your personal appearance but also your ability to stand up for yourself.
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t fight Pansy.” You turn eyeing her down. Over the years you have gotten absolutely sick of the entire slytherin house. For a group of students who were seen as the gloomy emo one, boy did they hate any sense of alternative fashion.
The compartment hushed quickly. Your height towering over her body still sitting on the boothed chair. You could feel the anger rising in you, your hands balling into fists. You had no intent of using your wand, just imagining the idea of lashing out fist-to-cuffs.
You felt students moving ahead of you forcefully to let someone through but you were too focused on the movements of Draco. You could feel the seconds slow as Draco took a step forward, his face red, brows furrowed. His hand slipped into his pocket gripping his wand. Just before he had the chance to pull it out, both of you turned to see who was coming down the aisle, ready to stop if a professor arrived.
“Stop. Stop. Stop.” Harry appeared next to you, his hand wrapping around your wrist pulling you forward both forcing you out of your anger and the situation. You were being pulled through the students; bumping into everyone you passed. He moved with vigor but not looking back at you, focused on only what was in front of him. You felt your shoulders relax the longer it took to get to his compartment. The crowd dispersed and he found a place to slow down.
“Harry sorry i know my emotions got the best-“ You started. He turned around still holding your wrist.
”I heard what they said. I don't blame you.” He said softly. “A physical fight is not the best way to start the year.” He smiled looking over your face, his face morphing with curiosity as he noticed your new facial jewelry.
“Wow” He said breathlessly. You looked back at him wide eyed, not sure if he liked them or not. Moments passed and you weren’t sure he had ever looked at you this long before, your cheeks slowly turning pink. You noticed how your heights now matched, now eye to eye. You swear he glanced at your lips several times but you were still high on adrenaline from before.. right?
“It’s amazing.” He finished. His eyebrows furrowed as he pointed just above your eye. “How bad did those hurt? I can't even imagine.” He laughed quietly rubbing his eyebrows where your piercings sit. You chuckled lightly.
”Only a pinch I promise. Maybe I’ll do yours sometime this school year.” You joked seeing his face seethed dramatically, imagining the pain.
“Maybe you can convince Ron, not me.” He laughed, opening the compartment ushering you in. Hermione jumped greeting you with a hug.
”y/n!” Her arms were so tight around your torso squeezing you as tightly as she could.
“Now those are wicked.” Ron exasperated, pointing quickly close to your nose, your gauged septum hanging from your nostrils.
“Don't pick my nose weasley, so help me.” You joked, Hermione pulling away from her hug. You all sat together talking about your piercings for a few minutes before the conversation moved away to the beginning of the school year. You missed them, happy that you were back to normalcy. All of you shared chocolate frogs and talked about the ministry. You were all just teenagers but the conversation was serious and daunting.
You caught Harry’s gaze a few times. You shook it off thinking he was just looking at your piercings, but he was more interested in how it fit your features so naturally. He didn’t know of anyone with such adornments but he was so infatuated with how more comfortable you seemed with these pieces of self expression. You reminded him of something, or someone but he couldnt put his finger on it. It took him the whole train ride as he wracked his own brain, distracted from the conversations you Ron and Hermione continued.
The train came to a halt and it felt like a light went off in Harry's brain. He looked over to you, laughing at something Ron just said but all he could think about was how much you reminded him of Sirius. He felt his heart race and his breath shallow. He could feel himself staring at you, seeing him in your mannerisms and the way your hair fell. You were strong, didn’t back down from a fight, and never hid your true feelings or artistic expressions. You were different but so similar it made his heart ache. You broke him from his trance standing up.
“Let’s go, Harry. We’ve made it.” You smiled over to him from the doorway, waiting for him to join you. Ron and Hermione were already long gone down the train and it was just you two. He didn’t realize how much time had passed, his attention stuck in his own thoughts. He got up, a little hesitant but smiled effectively as he met you outside the compartment. You two walked off the train quietly just enjoying the scenery and silence. You cleared your throat still feeling like his mind was somewhere else. It worried you.
“You doing okay over there Potter?” You asked, chuckling lightly. You walked shoulder to shoulder down the pathway towards the carriages.
“Yeah sorry. My mind is just.. elsewhere.” He mumbled looking over at you. You made him nervous and he wasn't sure why. You have been friends for years, since the beginning. He always wanted to keep it a friendship between you two, afraid of losing you or ruining it if you didn’t feel the same. He loved the quartet between Ron and Hermione. Everyone balanced each other and it killed him to think you'd leave because of his feelings. It overwhelmed him to silence now that it was so clear. He absolutely loved you.
You two got to the carriages that take you to the school, Professor Flitwick waiting for you both.
“Hurry now you must be the last ones!” His hands ruffled some papers looking dramatically. “Names?” He coughed looking up at you both.
”Professor, you can't be serious.” Harry said, looking between you and Flitwick.
“No exceptions Potter!” He sternly replied, his shoulder slumped realizing his mistake. You laughed, pulling Harry ahead to climb the stairs to the carriage. After a moment you looked across at Harry.
“You can tell me anything you know.” You mumbled, a second attempt to get him to open up to you. Something was clearly bothering him. You notice him shift in his seat nervously, his hands entwined with his own tightly.
”I know y/n/n. I just don't want to lose.. all this.” He gestured vaguely around. You shook your head and laughed slightly not understanding.
“Listen, if it's about you-know-who we are doing everything we can.” You said looking around. “We're safe here. For now at least.” You smiled at him, reaching across, resting your hand on his knee. His breath hitched as you touched him.
“It's not about the school.” He whispered his hands unraveling from themselves. You could see how his demeanor changed. The way he avoided looking at you. You moved and sat next to him, your hand still resting on his knee.
“Harry. Please.” You whispered leaning in. You cared so deeply for this boy, the look on his face was something new. He has been afraid of the impending war but he was strong, stoic, and almost impervious to the dangers he faced each year. This was more subtle, more emotional. He turned to face you, his hand resting on top of yours now.
“I don't want to lose you.” His voice was low but it hit you like knives. He was still heartbroken by the loss of Sirius just months ago, losing someone so close to him made him more aware of the implications of those around him fighting his fight for him. You reminded him so deeply of him, terrified of the fate of you now that you were so close to him. He didn’t know what was worse, not taking the chance to spend the time with you, or losing you later never being truthful with his feelings.
If as the world stopped, he grabbed your face kissing you softly. You were taken back by the gesture, soon melting into his arms. Your hand moving from his knee to his waist, grabbing his robes. As the carriage bounced you both held each other, kissing deeper but slowly. It was clumsy and heated. His hands held your face steady as both of your bodies bounced from the rough roads. His glasses hit your cheeks as you tilted your head, trying to not break from the kiss. You’d do anything to make the carriage stop in the woods, leaving just you two alone for as long as possible.
You dreamt of this moment, day and night, the possibility of holding his hand. Being there for him in more ways than just friendly. You’d do anything for him, to ease his pain, to listen to his stories, to hear his laugh. Every feeling of admiration and yearning rushed through you as the kiss slowed to an end. Nervous to look into his eyes, blushing deeply you kept your hands on his waist. He leaned back rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, his hands still cupping your hands.
Harry did not speak. In between a state of shock and disbelief in his own actions. Half of him wanted to tell Ron and Hermione what just happened, but the other half wanted to take the secret with him to the grave. For just this moment it was only you two. Your lips both still wet from the kiss, smiling shyly at each other. You both waited for each other to be the first to speak. You looked down and grabbed his hand, your fingers trembling slightly. You leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you silently holding each other as you made it to the castle.
A whirlwind of emotions the past few hours have been, what could happen the rest of the year?
#harry potter imagines#harry potter x reader#harry potter#harrypotter#harry potter headcanon#harry potter fanfiction#hogwarts#hogwarts au#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts oc#hogwarts houses
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Tom Riddles orphanage is interesting.
1920s/1930s The idea of not putting children to work was quite new. In fact there were still Workhouses until 1948.
Victorian's commonly thought that people were only poor because they are lazy, plus the well-blossoming ideas of eugenics meant poor people were probably just worse genetically. It was 'Christian values' to at least dress and feed poor children, but if you were too supportive of them they would only grow up to continue to be lazy, probably like their stupid poor lazy parents. They will go off and join the workforce at 14, so you shouldn't coddle them too early or else you'll spoil them.
Most orphanages were set up and funded by whichever rich fuck wanted to boast about how many little kids they 'help'. Some really were trying to help - but yknow... eugh. Rich people. Nothing was particularly regulated and abuse against children was accepted and even encouraged.
Plus its fresh after The Great War, poor street kids fending for themselves were hardly rare, infant mortality was high... Lots of kids and not much demand for them. If they could hurry up and grow up to join the workforce... that would be swell.
Experience of the common orphan in a common orphanage: + Crowded eating halls where they usually didn't eat well. + Beds lining the walls, no privacy, everyone in the same room. + No individuality - kids often forgot their own birthdays or names... adults rarely use them, there's too many kids to remember and they keep dying and shit, honestly who cares - if they get adopted maybe they'll be renamed anyway + Education was often light, just the basics + Sometimes they were also put to a little work beyond their own laundry and cleaning etc. + Sundays they get dressed up, cleaned up - to try and get them adopted. Trot them out like little show ponies to try and tempt some rich person. ''They aren't dirty street shits, they're nice and handsome little children who won't embarrass you.'' + In many places child abuse was just... awful. Being made to eat their own vomit, pushed down stairs, locked into rooms and forgotten about, straight up being murdered by their caretakers... if you can imagine it, it probably happened.
...Why do I say all this? Because barely any of that seems to apply to Tom's experience. That doesn't mean his Orphanage was a nice place for him to grow up... but my god, it sounds like a DREAM compared to the norm-!!!
+ Tom Riddle... had his own fucking bedroom. WOAH. + Privacy. Access to books to read. He could READ. + His own WARDROBE, where he could KEEP HIS OWN THINGS. + It's assumed other children could ALSO keep their own things, as he had stolen their stuff - and some even had PETS??? + No real sign that he is put to any grueling work. + He was calm and impolite in his own room - he isn't terrified to talk back to adults. + Though it did anger and scare him, experts were being brought in to try and evaluate his health. + He looked well. Well fed, healthy, clean, normal.
Mrs. Cole the Matron - though she says judgemental things she says and the mention of 'whacking on the nose with a rusty poker' (which I assume is basic physical abuse...?) - seems shockingly involved with the children. She knows their names, their preferences, their backstories... and despite the orphanage being poor, they take the children on a holiday every year. Even Harry thought she seemed alright.
It is BONKERS how nice it is at Wool's Orphanage. That is an intentional writing decision. They author is British, she knows basic recent British history - the 'suffering orphan' is baked into her very bones as a concept.
He COULD have been depicted as: + Just one dirty face in a room of many beds, many children, that Albus had to weave through to take him somewhere private and tell him he was different from them, he was special. + Keep the smaller rooms - but he has to share with five or so other boys... who have all moved their beds as far from his as possible. + He could have only barely even remembered his own name - there's nobody who cares to call him it anyway, so he dislikes it. + A "Yes Sir, Sorry Sir, Of course Sir" little boy - who then breaks out in joy over going to Hogwarts + ...just straight up could have been in a workhouse.
It wouldn't be far-fetched for it to be described like Oliver Twist (set in 1830s, but there was actually higher child mortality in 1930s) Or more of an Annie situation (set 1930s New York - probably better conditions than 1930s England) The Author has never shied away from displaying child suffering before. Just look at Snape and Harry... and even Neville! Yet Tom Riddle very much has an air of being the Top Rooster. + Even the adults don't know what to do with him. + He is rather comfortable as long as doctors aren't being brought in. + He has gone out of his way to MAKE that comfort for himself, through enforcing a harsh pecking order amongst the other kids. + He is, especially for the time, a bit of a brat. Talks back, snappy, sneering and scoffing, talks over adults, snatches...
That's not unreasonable of him, by the way. He IS treated unfairly due to his powers, he is a poor orphan in a world with an abundance of poor orphans... and he's just a little boy. Of course he acts out.
But he could have been made more sympathetic - and more believable, honestly - with only a slightly more harrowing depiction of his living situation than simply 'a little shabby - and the over stressed but tries-to-care Matron likes a drop of Gin.' Instead he is living better than most of the lower class.
Which to me can only mean he isn't supposed to come across as too sympathetic. He isn't a suffering orphan, he isn't miserable, he isn't abused (too badly), he isn't lonely, he isn't any of the things Harry was... despite being in a similar situation, at first glance. He is still sympathetic. Harry and Albus both thought so. But the reader isn't supposed to see his childhood as terrible. Just sub-par. We are happy he gets a chance at life at Hogwarts... ...but aren't thinking 'Oh man, of course he murdered people, he has had such a harrowing life' Snapes life was worse. Harry's life was worse. Neither of them kill.
#hp#tom riddle#wools orphanage#mywrite#hmm#hp meta#but I dont like tagging things without book quotes as meta usually#lord voldemort
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Final Fantasy VII and a Failure to Properly Analyze Japanese Media by English-Speakers
Light spoilers ahead without revealing deeper context.
One thing that always gets me about discussions of the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII is that they're kind of poorly Eurocentric, but I don't think that's entirely the fault of players and journalists. The original game itself came into being in one of those moments where Japanese media was looking both inward and outward while reflecting on what was becoming the economic stagnation of what would become known as "The Lost Decade." There was a lot of outrospection, looking at media from as far as Europe and North America, but a lot of analysis from without Japan often weakly frames that borrowing to the point that it makes the cultural context of where those borrowings might have come from disappear. That's what I mean by "poorly Eurocentric" - these analyses rightfully detect a borrowing, but fall apart because of a lack of curiosity into their depth, origin, and meaning within a Japanese context that fails to center that context as distinctly Japanese or even distinctly of Tokyo.
I have no ill-will towards this author nor do I have any ill-will towards his work, but M.J. Gallagher's Norse Myths That Inspired Final Fantasy VII is kind of a case-study in this. This is not a takedown, callout, or assault of Gallagher, but an example of what I'm talking about. While reading it, I was somewhat struck by a series of claims made that encapsulate this poor Eurocentrism:
Final Fantasy VII’s Nibelheim is largely derived from the primordial realm of mist, and its name is very deliberate. ‘Nibel’ is the word for ‘fog’ in the Romansch language of Switzerland, cognate with the German ‘Nebel’, both of which share a Proto-Germanic root with the Norse ‘nifl’. ‘Heim’, on the other hand, translates most commonly as ‘home’ or ‘home of’. It can therefore be deduced that where Niflheim is the Home of Primordial Mist, Nibelheim is the Home of Fog. Closely related in form to ‘mist’ or ‘fog’ is ‘cloud’. Given that the series’ lead protagonist is Cloud Strife, it becomes apparent that Nibelheim was named quite literally for being the home of Cloud.
This etymology has generated some confusion among fans over the years who believed it to have been drawn from Richard Wagner’s celebrated opera cycle Der Ring des Nibelungen, which itself was inspired by Nordic mythology and the Nibelungenlied, an epic Middle High German poem dating back around 800 years. The terms Nibelung (German) or Niflung (Norse) have been used in different ways over the centuries, most commonly referring to a noble family or to dwarfs, neither of which are heavily associated with Niflheim."
I first want to point out that there is no in-text citation of any of these claims when one might expect even a pop-history novel like this to, but that isn't entirely important - the first major claim, that Nibelheim is named for Cloud, comes from word association across four languages. It has to, as none of the sources in the bibliography associate Nifl with 'fog' or 'cloud.'
Japanese itself cannot easily evidence a difference between these words to lay a hidden significance for a speaker who understands all four mentioned languages after transliteration. ニヴルヘイム, ニフルヘイム, and ニブルヘイム are all ways that Niflheim may be written in Japanese and would have all likely to have been pronounced 'Niburuheimu' and transliterated as Niflheim or Nibelheim depending on context. To somebody not writing on an explcitly Norse context, any of these might be as or more likely to be transliterated as 'Nibelheim.'
Japanese has no distinction between 'v,' 'f,' and 'b' sounds from loan words in its native phonemic inventory, and writing Niflheim as ニヴルヘイム is something that would not have been common in the mid-'90s. This is something that would have only become more common later as academic translations of works like those of Snorri Sturluson became available. These translations, though, would not have become common until the early 2000s, and the standardization of loaned words like Niflheim is recent enough that most articles about Niflheim in Japanese mention or use more than one of these forms.
This brings me to the second major claim, that the association of Final Fantasy VII's Nibelheim with Wagner's is misplaced when it ought to be attributed to Norse myth through word association. This is, to me, a baffling assertion when taken in context of the Compilation or the greater Japanese cultural context.
Setting aside that Final Fantasy VII (1997) is a Wagnerian spectacle at heart, the events of the Nibelheim Incident are even more reminiscent of a borrowing of Der Ring des Nibelungen than they are of Norse myth that would have been largely unavailable to the developers and relegated to university libraries miles and miles from Tokyo.
What would not have been difficult to access for somebody in Tokyo in the '80s and '90s would be the first and following performances of Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen in Japan as part of the climax of the Opera Boom, mostly centering on Siegfried and G��tterdämmerung after their initial performances at the Tokyo Nikikai Opera. Japan was, in part, going through a kind of Wagner mania at the time as Marumoto Takashi points out in his writings on opera in Japan. It wasn't interest in Norse and German mythology that exploded interest in Wagner in Japan, but interest in Wagner that exploded interest in Norse and German mythology.
Knowing this, it is hard not to see Cloud braving the fires of Nibelheim in order to be there for an unconscious Tifa as reflexive of Siegfried conquering his fear to reach the unconscious valkyrie Brünnhilde through the ring of fire surrounding her in Siegfried. With the added context of Final Fantasy VII Rebirth in 2024 having both Cloud brave literal rings of fire while fighting an enemy named "Custom Valkyrie" with a woman he is explicitly the bodyguard of and a reference to Wagner's Götterdämmerung in the Götterdämmerung accessory instead of to Ragnarok, it almost feels like a dismissal of Wagnerian connections without knowing the content of Der Ring des Nibelungen or Wagner's influence in Japan in the '80s and '90s. It even excludes other possible readings of the work, like in Loveless where Alphreid almost appears as a portmanteau of two central names in Der Ring des Nibelungen - Siegfried and Alberich.
That's what frustrates me about discussions on Final Fantasy VII and the Compilation at large. When you combine that poor Eurocentrism that fails to notice the context of Final Fantasy VII (1997) with a clinging to the words and stated intent of the author, you get readings that might be fun but miss a lot of really cool stuff. Yeah, it is cool to look at Norse mythology, but Final Fantasy VII was made in a context of Wagner mania and the popularity of Western opera in the face of economic stagnation that peaked in the same year as Final Fantasy VII's international release with the founding of the National Opera.
I didn't cite any source here because I'm used to Tumblr hating outside links, but Marumoto Takashi's English work comes up rather easily on even just a Google search, and I'm willing to hand out links if asked. Most everything else was just language and looking at the works cited in the text itself.
#ff7#ffvii rebirth#ffvii remake#final fantasy 7#cloud ff7#cloud strife#ffvii#final fantasy vii#offhand analysis
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when editing the Sir Cameron book, I read the entire thing out loud, and whenever I hitched on something (the flow got interrupted by a sentence that was too long or too short or too lumpy), I went in and fiddled until it ‘read smooth’ again. it was soothing to do, but also it took soooooo long!
#just thinking about that now because I’m reading Steering the Craft (a book on writing)#and the author is talking a lot about the Sound of writing#and I’m thinking oh yeah!!! the sound!! the sound was important!
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Ep 5!!!
#Episodes that make me go “The author has never talked with a woman ever” 😓😓😓#I don't like how Lucy's character is handled at all. And I feel like I can't talk about it because I'm just going to sound like a bitter–#ss/kk shipper... But I really don't like it. And if it can help my case I'm a multishipper so I really don't take any–#issues with atsu/lucy I like the ship quite a lot actually.#So you're telling me there's this girl... Who meets this boy who pretty much ruined her life by directly causing her to lose her job...#And the next time she sees him she's going to sacrifice her own freedom for him as well as tell him “when you're done doing your things–#come and save me” (longest ewwww ever)... And when she regains freedom (author didn't bother to explain how because they don't care)–#she goes to work... As a waitress at the café beneath his workplace. So he can keep doing his Cool Superpowers Job while she literally–#must serve him every time he visits the place. It's just ?????????????????????????????????#Look‚ I don't dislike Lucy and I feel general affection towards her. It's just that they make her act like no one ever would#Just for the sake of the plot I guess#And like I knoww it's (probably just a little) more nuanced than that. I know Lucy is living her own fairy tale fantasy.#It's just that what I've said about her story is still true‚ you know?#I'm sorry but as sweet as atsu/lucy can be. I really hate the author for making Lucy a waitress. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.#It's so weird. This anime has women writing standards that feel like dating back to the 20s#Same with Katai and the ideal woman tbh. Like why are women to be seen as this abstract impersonal entities? Why can't they just be people?#Ideal for WHO. It's like super screwed up of a concept. What even is an ideal woman? What does it mean to be a woman anyways?#They just want to say “ideal wife”. But women aren't made to be wives their existence isn't functional to another person.#Sorry. I derail. Next episode is going to be even worse on this front ughhhh#Back to the episode: once again it really shows they were running out of budget with this season‚‚‚ the animation looks very suffered#Too many flashback also... I feel bad for the animators tbh#I don't really like the shift in art style :( Not even Atsushi I found particularly pretty this episode my heart cries#The nail pulling thing made me feel like throwing up afhsjyabfsbfwasfvb I feel like I can bear worse gore but there's a couple of little–#specific things I can't stand and this seems to be one of them pffftttt#I like Higuchi I think she's both very funny and cool. I really wish she was explored more (but then again looking at Teruko... )#The relationship between Kunikida and Katai looks so interesting even though we only get glimpses of it. Kunikida regrets Katai leaving–#the ada but is also happy for him but also worries for him. He comes to his house seemingly to check on him and starts cleaning around.#The way he loves him and cherishes their friendship and shared history is really evident and it makes for a compelling dynamic.#Perhaps I should read their short story... In any case. Going to someone's house and compulsively start doing the dishes half out of will–#to help out half because he can't bear the mess sounds a lot like something I'd do lol
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people leaving not glowing reviews in ao3 bookmarks my unbeloved
#went onto one of my fics to familiarise myself with interactions before continuing to tackle a planned sequel#saw someone else had bookmarked it and went :DD and got even more excited to see it had been bookmarked with a comment#buut the comment was just like 'i mean it was alright' which isn't shattering criticism but it's like#i spent 2 weeks writing and editing and tying myself in knots and worrying about the depiction of characters in that fic#it's one that i'm actually quite proud of and am putting a lot of effort into the follow-up and trying to maintain the same tone#why would someone bother to bookmark it if it just felt average -- moreover why bother to say that?#i've seen worse ones#like i understand that you're not going to like every single fic in existence but unless people ask for feedback#you don't need to leave your critical review in a comment that the author can see#and i know how i've worded it may sound conceited#but some i've seen very much carry the same vibe as being invited in to someone's house and dumping spaghetti bolognese on their carpet#like if you're not a fan either don't accept the invitation or politely leave instead of posting a pic on social media#with a caption of how much of a state the house was#it just baffles me why someone would bookmark something they didn't thoroughly enjoy#anyway#shoutout to the fantastic people who leave lovely comments on fics and in bookmarks and put a smile on fic writers' faces you're all swell#even just a !!!!!! makes my day <3#personal#lit talks
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#lina talks#nas#a little bit of bragging (?) to follow so scroll past perhaps? I just wanted to say it somewhere#............................................................................................................................................#reading a new fic from my favorite ao3 author set in my favorite series by him#and realized that his style has very very much influenced mine - at least what it currently is#and from the moment I finished reading the first story in the series I kinda knew I wanted to write like him#bc the way he writes is so beautiful and it flows just like poetry#but didn't realize the extent of it I guess until now when I'm reading his style againm#just a week or so after I heavily edited my writing workshop submissions to turn in as my final project for the class#kinda just hit me that I can see the influences he had on my writing and that I can also see the improvement I've made in my own style#which is nice :) bc I often do feel frustrated when I can't word things properly or when something sounds weird but I can't figure out why#but that's also a sign of improvement I think#idk I've learned a lot unconsciously and consciously about writing over the past few years and it's just nice to see#thank you for coming to my ted talk skndjgh
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obviously the best way to become a better writer is to read real books but there’s so many things that annoy me in fic that i feel like should be able to be addressed by simply READING MORE FANFICTION. i’m going to be mean here but so often i will see things like the way people use commas (or more accurately, don’t use them), or calling characters “the blond” “the younger man” etc, or idk those are the main examples on my mind at the moment but other shit like that. and i’m like surely even if you don’t read books you read other fanfic right??? do you not think it sounds bad when other fic reads like this???
#like do you not have a sense of what sounds good and bad when you read?? even if you’re only reading fic?????#the commas really get to me#idk man i have a lot of insecurities with my own writing mainly i feel that i am not creative enough to come up with evocative descriptions#i love writing dialogue but i struggle with the narrative parts of writing prose#and similarly i have a hard time coming up w ideas for plots and stuff!#like that is just not my strong suit i would say i struggle with. creativity.#but i’m truly like how are people still referring to characters as ‘the taller man’ and shit. like isnt everybody always talking about#how much they hate that#there’s a drawfee bit where they’re joking like ‘drawing is easy just look at it and draw what you see’#and sometimes that is how i feel about writing even though i know it doesn’t work like that <3#like literally just read something good and write it like that <3#anyway the solution to this IS to read real published books#bc they will be professionally edited and you won’t be getting things like ‘’hi’ he said smiling’#real books are not immune to bad writing i’m sure you might still encounter some ‘the younger man’ ‘the taller man’ bullshit#but it’s. better.#anyway disclaimer i am not talking about people whose first language is not english#although a lot of times those authors are the least guilty of these crimes anyway so#r.txt
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you know that thing of when you finish a book series that you found deeply mediocre but then you go in the tag and find out that everyone in the entire world except you loved it
#a.txt#i feel like this happens with fandom stuff a lot where ppl ignore the quality of the plot/writing/etc bc they like the characters? or smth#in this one specifically the pacing is so awful and there's expo dumps every three seconds. the author is constantly reminding me of things#i already knew. the dialogue is stilted and sounds like what you think the victorians talked like without actually reading any victorian#lit. deuteragonists introduced in the first book are immediately sidelined by a massive onslaught of one off side characters and flattened#into hollow executions of singular personality traits. minor plot events are recycled multiple times a book in every book and yet no one#seems to anticipate it happening. the author keeps forgetting random details about characters he himself wrote. plot breadcrumbs#are dropped and then go nowhere because author probably forgot about those too. all this and more in redacted.#i'm like 99.9% sure people are so blinded by the popular gay ship that has like zero evidence in the ENTIRE series that they just don't see#how fucking bad these books are
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trolley problem
in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned
flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K
Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago.
The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out.
You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy.
So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere.
You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death.
But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.
Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?
It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death.
Just… not yours.
Or maybe you’re just in deep denial.
Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.
Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job.
“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”
Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns.
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to.
“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”
Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?
“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”
At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well.
“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”
Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital.
“I didn’t walk into active g—”
“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”
“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”
You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Talk?”
“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”
“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.”
The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.
“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”
“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”
A beat.
Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words.
“Do you believe that?”
His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle.
You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that.
“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good.
It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now.
“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”
“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago.
“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”
There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa.
“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”
He snaps.
“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”
“It’s my job, Spencer.”
“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”
“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”
“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was.
You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door.
“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking.
“You need to eat something.”
Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before.
However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now.
“Spencer, please don’t—”
But the door is already whooshing closed.
You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one.
When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing.
The door closes as quietly as it opens.
This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse.
Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get.
“You didn’t bring food.”
“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”
Fair enough.
You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth.
Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall.
Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain.
“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly.
Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur.
“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”
He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in.
“I just wanna help people.”
“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”
“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night.
“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”
The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise.
“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”
For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.
When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention.
“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”
And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern.
“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”
“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”
“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”
“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”
And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.
Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place.
“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking.
“Hm?”
He hesitates.
“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”
“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”
“I mean beyond that.”
You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog.
“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”
If he responds, you miss it.
You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone.
Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel.
Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand.
You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight.
The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass.
Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass.
God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead.
Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did.
Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things.
Maybe you’re tired of being human.
Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore.
And yet.
It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful.
Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever.
Maybe that’s something you envy.
But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour.
You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now.
You doubt they ever could.
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic
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effet mer | jjk
⤷ effet mer, french for sea effect, but it’s a play on word. effet mer and éphémère are pronounced the same way in french and éphémère stands for ephemeral.
⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader
⏤ genre: best friend's brother, kinda strangers to lovers, roommates au, angst, fluff, and smut
⏤ rating: 18+
⏤ words: 11,197
⏤ summary: everything we face in life is ephemeral, nothing stays forever, even the bad. when you and your roommate, jungkook, face devastating breakups, you leave everything to spend some days at the beach holding the world’s record of the highest waves. it brings you comfort but also brings you closer as you get to truly know each other.
⏤ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of cheating, mention of breakups, jungkook and oc are completely broken, mention of sex, teasing, a lot of making out, nipple play, mention of nipple sucking, face riding, oral sex (f & m receiving), hair pulling, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, praising, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, missionary, doggy style, creampie, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation
⏤ author’s note: here it is the little fic 🤗 i had a lot of fun writing this, especially since i’m talking about a place very dear to me & also since i get to promote a bit of my culture in a fic (a first time for me). as a portuguese, this is very special & i think this fic will hold a special place in my heart 💞 hope you’ll enjoy it & let me know what you think ✨
Nazaré (check out this video so you get to visualize the little town)
MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD
The waves.
The crashing of the waves against the sturdy rock and soft sand is the only sound echoing in your ears. It brings an immense sense of comfort, the only sound calming your tormented soul. Coming here, you knew it would quiet the turmoil within your mind.
The sight of the waves colliding against the monumental rock also brings peace. It’s thrilling to see what Mother Nature can do. The waves are incredibly high and powerful, offering you and any person present a wonderful show. For years, you wished to come see those impressive waves but never got the chance.
What brings you here is your roommate, Jungkook, who’s also the older brother of your best friend, Joongki. You’ve been living under the same roof for five years already. You were looking for a bed during your college years, he was looking for a roommate, and Joongki put you together.
Even though you’ve been living together for a long time, you barely know each other. Jungkook is a night owl, basically living at night, and during the day, whenever he’s awake, he’s at his girlfriend’s place. Well, ex-girlfriend now. On your side, you’d also spend a tremendous amount of time with your boyfriend in and out of the apartment. Well, your now ex-boyfriend.
Your ex-boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend are what brought you and Jungkook here. His girlfriend was cheating on him while your boyfriend didn’t love you anymore.
It’s hard. Way too hard.
Amid your pain, Jungkook proposed to drop everything for a couple of days and go to a place you both have always desired to visit. Praia do Norte (North Beach in English). It’s a beach located in Portugal, in Nazaré to be precise. The city isn’t far from the capital, Lisbon.
This coastal town is known for its massive waves, some of which can reach heights over 100 feet - 30 meters during winter time.
Years ago, you spent some days with your friends in Nazaré in July. It was already a breathtaking place. You saw pictures everywhere of the impressive waves. After that, it became your dream to see them. Life happened and you never got to go there.
Jungkook, on his side, heard of this place through a documentary he once watched. Throughout his entire relationship with his ex, he proposed her to travel to that town, but she never was really interested.
Randomly, through a very rare conversation, you found out about your mutual interest in Nazaré. Then, when your hearts got broken, you found yourselves being locked up in the apartment, crying like babies. Jungkook suggested the coastal town, and you embarked on this little journey together.
As a wave is forming in the sea, you grab your phone to record it. Although you foresee it to be impressive, it exceeds all your expectations. It’s breathtaking, and by far, the prettiest natural event your eyes have ever witnessed.
“Woow,” you say while firmly holding your phone in your hands.
You’re completely mesmerized by the impressive wave, you forget about everything. It’s just you and the wave. It’s an incredible feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. Being here genuinely brings you comfort to your soul.
Slowly, you turn your head to look at the person who brought you here, Jungkook. He’s also looking at the sea with the same face as yours, and it makes you smile. There’s not much you know about this man. Sometimes you wonder how he is like. Everything you know about him, you’ve heard it from Joongki. It’s quite odd that you don’t really know anything about your roommate but it has always been fine for you like that.
“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jungkook says with evident bliss in his eyes.
Jungkook and Joongki are quite similar. Physically, you mean. They share the same pair of doe eyes, the same eye and hair color, the same facial shape, and the same smile. A lot of people mistake them for twins because they really look a lot like each other.
The first time you saw Jungkook, you also thought it was your best friend’s twin. But as time passed, you noticed how different they can be. Jungkook clearly looks older than his brother, he’s after all three years older than Joongki.
“Couldn’t agree more with you”, you tell him with your eyes still on him.
For the past three months, you’ve been wondering how his ex-girlfriend could have cheated on him. He’s clearly a good-looking man, and on top of that, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. You’re not sure to understand in general how someone can cheat. Wouldn’t it be easier to simply say: “I want to be with someone else”? At least, your ex had the decency to say it.
You chase away those thoughts before crying in front of thousands of people, and especially before ruining your entire trip.
Your eyes look again at the sea. It’s slowly getting colder. As time passes, the sea looks more and more furious, the waves are only getting bigger and bigger, and as they hit the rock, water is thrown at your faces.
You’re fully covered to try to protect yourself as much as possible from the water, but it seems not enough. But it’s incredible to be here.
“Do you want to stay any longer?” Jungkook asks while he turns his head to you.
With your roommate, you’ve been watching the waves for already two hours although it doesn’t feel like it. you look down at your phone to check what time it is. It’s already 6:45 pm. As you’ve booked a table for 7:30 pm at a restaurant, it’s probably best to get going. Given the long road to the restaurant, you must leave to ensure you’re on time.
“I don’t think so,” you answer. “We still need to walk to the restaurant and it might take some time,” your eyes look around as you think about the fact you still have to walk for a bit. “And I made a reservation at 7:30 pm for tonight, so it’s best to keep going.”
Jungkook simply nods, agreeing with you. Slowly, you turn around and walk away from the waves. You look behind you one last time to admire a wave crashing against the impressive rock.
Jungkook has yet to learn where the restaurant is. He’s never been in this town while you have. So he doesn’t have much choice but to follow you around. On top of it, you’re the one who made the reservation so for sure, you know where the restaurant is.
If someone had told him five years ago he’d be in Nazaré with his new roommate, he would have never believed it. Probably, he would have laughed at their face. Outside the fact that you’re his little brother's best friend, he doesn’t know much about you. It has never bothered him not to know you.
However, since you’re both single, things are different. You’ve been talking and even traveling abroad together. Presumably, traveling with a stranger isn’t the best idea but he fundamentally trusts you. You’re not completely a stranger to him, but there’s very little if nothing he knows about you.
But he doesn’t mind. After all, you’re both here to enjoy the impressive waves.
Nazaré’s downtown is made of tiny streets which gives its charm. Based on the info he found about the town, it’s the typical type of street in Portugal. So far, he has been loving this town. For sure, the waves are quite a big deal, but the coastal town is captivating. He loves everything about Nazaré, and he’s only been here for a day.
The people are also extremely nice and always smiling even though sometimes it’s hard to communicate with them since they only speak Portuguese. But there’s always a way to understand each other. He’s genuinely happy to be here, and he’s already thinking about coming back more frequently, maybe even during summertime to discover the town from another perspective. It must be so different from wintertime.
After a long walk, you finally reach the restaurant located on a very small street. Jungkook is definitely falling in love with this city. Right now, he’s kind of grateful he never came with his ex otherwise it would have been excruciating to be here. Most probably, he wouldn’t be here today with you.
You enter the restaurant, and a man comes in your direction. “Olá,” he firstly says. Based on the very limited words he got to learn in the past 24 hours, Jungkook knows that ‘olá’ is the portuguese equivalent of ‘hello’.
“Olá,” you answer in portuguese. “We have a reservation for 2 under the name y/l/n,” you continue in english.
“Let me quickly check,” he moves to a little piece of furniture at the entrance composed of some books and a cash register.
Jungkook takes a look at the restaurant. It’s very small but definitely very charming.
“Follow me, please,” says the waiter when he comes back to you.
The waiter shows you a little table on the left corner of the restaurant. This very cozy place is already crowded, most definitely a popular place to be in Nazaré.
“Here are the menus,” he hands you both menus.
“They do fantastic pizzas here,” you say once the waiter leaves. “I came here once with my friends and promised myself I’d come here again.”
“Let’s see,” a little smile appears on Jungkook’s face.
For a hot minute, he stares at you while you look down at the menu.
Since the moment, he met you he always believed his little brother was in love with you. He couldn’t stop talking about you with such a spark in his eyes. However, as time went by, he realized he was wrong, or at least partially. His eyes have a spark because he adores you as a friend and because you seem to be a wonderful person. There is something about you that is appealing, Jungkook won’t deny it.
In the past 24 hours, he’s got to learn a bit more about you. Even though it’s pretty obvious you’re still trying to get over a breakup, you’ve been immensely excited to be here and show him around the places you know. And he’s been lucky to see a bright spark in your eyes. You’re without any doubt in love with this coastal town, he can tell that.
The pizzas were, as you remember, fucking delicious. Jungkook even admitted it afterward.
Funnily enough, during dinner, you got to discuss with the owner, who was also acting as a waiter. He’s actually french. He came here once, fell in love with the town, and decided to move here. He then opened this restaurant with his mother, and luckily, it’s always crowded. It can be calmer during periods but it’s always for a short time.
“Not sure I’ll want to come back home after this stay,” Jungkook tells you as you’re making your way to the little apartment you’re staying in.
“Me neither,” you say.
The only thought of leaving this place breaks your heart. Once you get back home, reality will hit you. You’ll once more be reminded of your lost love. Maybe the pain will be more bearable as you’ve taken some time for yourself here in Nazaré.
The rest of the walk until the apartment is made in silence while you look around. Everything about this place screams perfection. The people, the food, the views, the tiny houses, the sea, and everything else. Nazaré will now be your safe place on earth. It’ll be the place you’ll always look forward to coming again. Strangely, it feels like you belong here.
When you’re not very far from the apartment, it starts raining, and not just a bit. The two of you put the hood of your jackets on your heads.
“Let’s run to the apartment?” Jungkook asks.
The only answer you gave him is starting to run.
“Eeeh,” he screams while he starts running after you. “Wait for me.”
A little chuckle escapes your lips when you hear him complain. Since you run in the opposite direction of the rain, it hits you right in the face. It’s not pleasant at all, but you’ll soon reach the place you’re renting. But running in the middle of those tiny streets with Jungkook behind you makes you feel alive.
In a matter of seconds, Jungkook catches you. For a brief moment, you look at each other with the brightest smiles on your faces. You’re both feeling the same, you know it. Your roommate grabs your hand while you keep running under the heavy rain. He holds your hand tightly in his, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the cold weather outside.
Feeling his hand in yours unimaginably warms your heart.
When you reach the apartment, you both stop at the main entrance. Briefly, you’re standing face to face, breathing hard, and staring deep into each other’s eyes. Over the years, you didn’t really have the opportunity to see him up close, but lately, it feels like you’ve only been physically close.
This closeness has allowed you to really look at him. Although Jungkook looks a lot like your best friend, he’s more attractive, charming, and alluring. This man can have any woman he desires, but he chooses not. It’s understandable due to his recent breakup. But based on how Joongki speaks about him, he’s never been a womanizer. He’s more of an ‘i want a long-term relationship’ guy.
Jungkook’s hand brushes a strand of hair falling on your face. The simple touch of his fingers against your skin sends shivers down your spine. The two of you don’t cease to stare into each other eyes. This simple and intimate moment is something you never thought would happen five years ago.
Well, even yesterday, you never thought it’d happened.
You’re interrupted by someone leaving the apartment complex standing in front of you. By reflex, you take a step back, creating some space between you and Jungkook. The person greets you before disappearing behind you.
Before the main entrance door closes, Jungkook takes a big step to keep it open. “After you,” he smiles at you while he gestures for you to come inside the complex. A smile spreads across your face as you make your way inside. When you pass by him, you take in his strong perfume. He smells so good.
Joongki’s brother follows you, closing the door behind him. The apartment is located on the first floor so luckily, you only have to climb a few steps. You hurry up because you only want to be warm.
Once in front of the door, you take the keys from your pocket. Your winter jacket contains a massive pocket on the inside. You’ve placed all your important belongings like your phone, ID Card, bank card, and the keys. At least you’re sure you won’t lose anything nor anything won’t be stolen.
Once inside, the first thing you do is remove your jackets, and shoes. It’s a bit warmer inside but you still need to turn on the heating. The two of you head to the small living room.
The place you rent isn’t big, but it’s enough for you. There’s no need to have a massive apartment for two people. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom are largely enough. No need for more.
The owner of the apartment left some portuguese liqueurs for you to enjoy. He advised you to start with ‘Licor Beirão’. As the owner said, it’s a sweet liqueur that tastes like orange. You haven’t tasted it yet but tonight you feel like you really want to.
“Do you want to taste the famous liqueur the owner advises us to taste?” you ask Jungkook as you grab the bottle from a wardrobe.
For a brief moment, Jungkook simply watches you while you hold the bottle in your hand. The look he gives you makes you feel a bit special as it is the same look he gave you at the complex entrance.
“Why not,” he replies with a smile.
Your roommate goes to the kitchen to grab two glasses. He remembers that the owner told you to put a cube of ice in your drink to make it even better. He said: “Licor Beirão without ice tastes like shit.” A smirk appears on his face when he recalls those words.
When he comes back with the glasses, you don’t waste any second to poor a bit of liqueur. You hand one of the glasses to your roommate and take the other. While you both take a seat on the couch, you take a sip of your drink.
“Fuck,” Jungkook says. “It’s delicious.”
A little laugh escapes your lips as you hear him slobber about the drink. Your eyes wander a tiny bit on his face.
“Indeed,” you say.
It’s certainly not bad at all. It’s also not that strong for a liqueur, maybe the sweetness hides the hardness of the alcohol. Probably, you won’t be drinking much since you don’t really want to end up drunk in front of Jungkook. You’ll for sure embarrass yourself.
“This will definitely warm me after this cold rain,” Jungkook says while taking another sip.
You put your drink down on the coffee table before sitting properly on the couch and placing a blanket on top of your legs.
“It’s still unbelievable that we’re here,” you tell him.
“Yep, yep,” he nods and takes another sip. “I would have never bet that one day, I’d travel with you.” He puts down his drink next to yours and sits closer to you.
This closeness is something you still need to adjust to. It’s so new.
“Me neither,” you say. “I actually never pictured myself traveling with someone else than Guwon,” you almost whisper at the end of the sentence.
Guwon was your boyfriend for more than five years. You were dreaming of starting a family with him, seriously considering moving in with him and already discussing marriage. You were madly in love with him and you strongly believed that he was your forever person. But you got it all wrong.
One day, out of the blue, he told you that he didn’t love you anymore. It devastated you beyond comprehension. You begged for an explanation because how can someone fall out of love? It was inconceivable for you that after all that time, he stopped loving you. He didn’t give you an explanation, he just said he didn’t love you anymore.
However, everything made sense when you found out he was dating a colleague shortly after your breakup. When that colleague joined the company he’s working for, you still remember that he wouldn’t stop talking about her. He praised her so much. Until one day, he stopped doing it. But right after, he told you he didn’t love you anymore so no need to be a genius to understand he started loving her.
It hurt even more.
“I also never thought I’d be one day traveling with someone else than Yoojung,” he adds.
You bring your legs against your chest and you look down for a little bit. There are so many questions you want to ask him about his breakup but you’re not sure it’s appropriate.
“Can I ask you a question?” you dare to say.
Jungkook simply nods while looking at you.
“How did you find out about the cheating?”
Your roommate is taken aback by your question. As you notice the expression on his face, you instantly realize that you crossed a line. Now you regret your question.
“Sorry…” Before you can even continue your sentence, Jungkook replies to your question.
“A couple of months before, we stopped being intimate,” he starts saying while looking down. “Every time I’d try to initiate anything, she’d give me an excuse. Most of the time, it’d be tiredness. Then, we slowly started not to see or even text each other as often.”
His eyes now look up, meeting yours filled with sadness and empathy. The same gaze you gave him when he informed you of his separation.
“At first, I didn’t really notice it, but when people started asking me about her, I’d never be able to give them an answer. So I started to realize something was off.”
You can hear in his voice how it still breaks him.
“One day, I simply went to her place without informing her, and that’s when I saw the other guy.”
Now, your heart breaks for him. In an act of kindness, you grab his hand and squeeze it. Jungkook looks down at your hands, and you gently stroke the back of his hand with your fingers. From the way he suddenly glances at you, you can tell that the gesture moves him.
“That must have been horrible,” you softly say.
The man in front of you simply nods.
“Thankfully, I didn’t see anything that would have destroyed me but you could tell by the way they were looking at each other that they were at least sleeping together. She confessed it afterwards and I left her.”
Definitely, you want to hug this man. It’s so heartbreaking what he went through. It’s never easy to find out to have a cheating partner. Even though you never considered Guwon to have cheated on you, you wonder if he didn’t. Maybe he kissed his colleague or even went further and left you afterward.
“Apparently she’s with that guy now, but I don’t care,” he tells you. “I prefer to ignore what she’s doing now and who she’s with.”
You couldn’t agree more with him. She and Guwon have broken your hearts enough, no need to torture yourselves in knowing what they are doing now.
“All I care is to heal,” he whispers.
You caress his hand with your thumb. Although you’re doing it to comfort him, it also has the same effect on you.
“Looks like you’re going in the right direction,” you tell him with a little smile. “You didn’t cry.”
Barely a week ago, he wasn’t able to say her name without falling apart. It’s a big step into healing.
A very tiny smile spreads across his face when he realizes that you’re right. He didn’t cry while talking about the most heartbreaking moment he faced in life.
“You’re right,” he grabs his drink to take a sip. “It’s even better now with the ice,” he totally changes the topic of conversation.
You can’t blame him, talking about his cheating ex isn’t pleasant. Plus, you’re here to try to move on from the terrible things Guwon and Yoojung did.
“Let me taste,” Jungkook hands you your drink before you can even bend to get it from the table. “Thanks,” you whisper with a little shy smile.
Your roommate winks at you as a way to say ‘you’re welcome’, but oddly, it increases the heat of the room. Very quickly, you drink a bit of the liquor. It instantly cools off a bit the warmth you’re feeling inside you due to Jungkook.
The liqueur definitely tastes better with ice. The owner was right. Well, you never doubt it since he’s portuguese and knows his country better than anyone else. You’re looking right in front of you since you’re feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you. You’re not brave enough to face him because you know your cheeks will instantly turn red.
“You know,” he starts saying. “For a long time, I was convinced you and my brother were in love,” you almost choke with your drink when you hear those words. “You’d always be together, almost acting like a couple, but then I found out you were in a relationship so it changed my perspective,” he adds. “Also with time, I realized that it was your way to be friends.”
You’ve been friends with Joongki for more or less six years, but only a couple of months later, you got to actually meet Jungkook. Of course, you’d already heard a lot about him since your best friend would mention him a lot, but he was living abroad back then.
And well, if you’re a hundred percent honest, you had a crush on Joongki when you met him. How could you not? Joongki is very good-looking, he’s funny, he’s adorable, and, beyond anything else, he has the biggest heart on earth. Then, that crush eventually faded, and you met Guwon so everything changed.
However, you’re never going to say anything about this crush, especially to Jungkook.
Nevertheless, your reaction intrigues your roommate. Your eyes widen, you take a big sip of the liquor, and you try to hide your face.
“You actually liked my brother,” he points out with evident playfulness in his voice.
“No,” you immediately retort.
Obviously, it’s a lie. You’re trying as much as possible to hide yourself but it’s basically impossible. Jungkook is right next to you.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t tell him anything, it’s none of my business.”
You finally look up at him, and for fuck’s sake, he looks stunning. You take another sip. At this pace, your drink will be over in 30 seconds, and you’ll be drunk by then since you don’t know how strong this liqueur is.
“I’m sure he had a crush on you too at first,” he smiles at you.
Jungkook gets closer to you, his breath crashing against your neck once he’s very close. Your heart starts acting crazy inside your chest, your heartbeat increasing drastically. You’re both staring at each other, and his eyes are very dark.
“I mean I would too if I was Joongki,” he whispers in your ear.
Fuck, this man manages to cause goosebumps all over your body in a matter of seconds. His eyes look up at you, the mood has completely changed. It’s not anymore casual, it’s really giving the ‘i want to kiss you’ vibes. But as you think better about this, it has changed the second it started to rain.
His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes a couple of times. Without any doubt, you do the same, you even bite your lower lip. You’re definitely desperate to kiss each other. There’s absolutely no doubt.
Still, you’re unsure if you really want this to happen. You enjoy being here with Jungkook and getting to know him better, but once you kiss, everything between you will change forever. He wouldn’t simply be your roommate and your best friend’s brother anymore.
Nevertheless, there’s nothing you want more right now.
You want to know how it feels to be kissed by him, and how it feels to kiss someone with a lip piercing. Your imagination is going wild at the moment.
You clear your throat and take a step back while placing your hands on his chest. “We can’t,” you shake your head. “It’s not a good idea.”
Jungkook nods before simply sitting on the couch as he was before. You take a deep breath, trying to gather yourself after this rather intense moment.
Jungkook stares at the ceiling of the bedroom he’s staying in. His mind keeps repeating the moment he almost kissed you. It was quite clear you wanted it as well, but he still doesn’t understand why you push him away. He wonders if it’s maybe too soon for you. Maybe you don’t want to kiss someone else three months after your breakup.
He sighs. Hopefully, this moment won’t create tension or something like that between you for the rest of your stay. It’s not what he wanted.
Suddenly, he is pulled out of his reverie when he hears a shy knock on the door. He frowns before standing up to open the door. He’s greeted by your sleepy face and messy hair. A little smile appears on his face because he can’t help but find you adorable.
“I can’t fall asleep,” you tell him while rubbing your eyes. “Can I sleep with you?”
Well, now that you’re here asking him to sleep here, he’s sure that he didn’t ruin anything. It’s definitely a relief for him.
“Yes, yes,” he says while opening the door a little wider.
Without hesitation, you enter the room and he closes the door behind you. He makes his way to the bed before you lay next to him. At first, you put some distance between you two since you’re both unsure what to do. On top of that, you’re both looking at the ceiling as if you’re scared to look at each other. Jungkook can feel his heart beating fast inside his chest. He has never been this nervous to be around a woman that he likes.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” you tell him while turning your face to look at him.
Honestly, this surprises him. “About what exactly?” Obviously, he knows what you’re referring to but he still wants you to say it out loud.
“When I pushed you away.”
Jungkook ignores what he can say right now.
“Don’t be sorry,” those are the only words crossing his mind.
Still, you keep talking as if he didn’t say anything. “I really wanted to kiss you.” His heart beats even faster now. “But if we do it, it will change everything between us, and I’m not sure I want that.”
Well, he’s glad you explained why you pushed him away although you didn’t need to. You have your reasons and he can only accept that. Jungkook turns now to his right to finally see your face. You look angelic from this perspective.
“Why so?” he dares to ask.
For what feels like an eternity, you don’t talk, probably thinking about the proper answer to give him. His heart is still hammering very fast in his chest, nervous about your answer. This silence feels heavy for him, but all he can do is remain patient.
“Honestly, I don’t really have a reason,” you say when you break the silence. “Up until now, we were simply roommates and you were Joongki’s brother,” you take a deep breath. “And it was fine like that.” Jungkook’s eyes deviate for a split second to your lips while you speak. “However, everything is different since we came here. You aren’t really a stranger anymore, I got to know you better and to spend good moments with you.”
Jungkook couldn’t agree more with you. No matter what, when you go back home, your relationship and dynamic will forever be different. In a good way, though. As you mentioned, you’re no longer strangers now.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for more changes in my life,” you confess while biting your lower lip.
But the changes are already happening.
“I totally understand you, yn,” he simply answers.
Well, the only change Jungkook wants right now is your relationship. It’s evolving in interesting ways and he doesn’t want to hold back this shift between you.
"A lot has already happened this past few months,” he adds.
For sure, he prefers things would have happened differently but what can he do? This year has been too chaotic. Being here in Nazaré right now is the only thing that has been able to calm him down. Just for a moment, he can cut himself off the reality to truly rest and heal.
Slowly, you get closer to him. You only stop when he can feel your hot breath crashing against his face. You’re super super close now. His eyes roam your pretty face, admiring it as much as he can under the light of the night. How could he not notice before how beautiful you are?
“But the more I think about it, the more I get desperate to kiss you,” your words echo in the room. This is as well unexpected for him. “I’m not sure of anything but fuck, I crave nothing more than to feel your…”
Before you can even finish your sentence, your roommate crashes his lips against yours. You’re caught by surprise at first, but then, you kiss him back with the same passion. Although it’s a passionate kiss, it’s very soft at first. Jungkook doesn’t want to rush anything, he wants to enjoy this moment. His left hand moves to your cheek, caressing it.
The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you.
As he’s kissing you, he regrets not having noticed you before. You’re hot, good-looking, intelligent, and above anything else, a wonderful person. For sure, he was in love with Yoojung, but he should have seen you before.
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate one second when you part your lips to let his tongue meet yours. Your tongues meet for an erotic and slow dance. This is intense, but so fucking good.
Out of breath, you break the kiss but your roommate’s hand remains on your cheek. You close your eyes briefly, and his eyes stay on you. Even though you’re not kissing anymore, he still can sense your lips on his.
Jungkook pushes you against him, your head against his toned chest. He places his head on top of yours after pressing a gentle kiss on your head. He’s not sure about what will happen from now on, but he’s certain of one thing, he doesn’t want to let you go.
Shortly after, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Slowly, you open your eyes. The sun irradiates the room and at first, you close your eyes again as the sun is way too bright.
While you move in the bed, you rub your eyes before opening them again. Gradually, you perceive the figure lying in bed next to you. A smile spreads across your face when you realize it’s Jungkook.
The man is looking at you with the brightest smile on his face. He seems happier than ever. You haven’t seen him like that since his split with his ex-girlfriend. That alone makes you smile even more.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Good morning to you too,” you reply.
For a moment, you remain in silence, looking simply at each other. This right here definitely makes you happy. You don’t need anything else. Well, you still want to go watch the impressive waves, but you can stay here a little longer.
“How was your night?” he asks.
“Good,” you start saying. “I guess all I needed was a kiss to fall asleep,” the biggest smile appears on his absolutely handsome face.
“Well, you should try that more often,” he teasingly says.
“For sure,” you exclaim.
You’re sure that right now, you both look like idiots with the happiest smiles on your faces. You get closer to Jungkook before pressing a gentle peck against his lips. The feeling of the cold metal of his piercing against your lips sends shivers all over your body. It’s quite special to kiss someone with a lip piercing, it’s a first time for you, but it doesn’t change anything about the fact that he kisses like a god. Actually, you’d say that with the piercing it makes the kiss even more intense.
The man in front of you presses another peck on your lips before pressing a thousand others more, causing you to giggle. This sound, you haven’t heard it in months, and you’re grateful Jungkook is responsible for it.
Then, the kisses move to your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw, the corner of your lips, and finally, they start to descend to your neck. You can feel his round nose pressed against your neck as his lips kiss your skin. Instantly, your hands move to his hair to play with it. A very soft and barely audible moan escapes your lips.
This jovial and playful moment has turned into a very heated one.
Jungkook’s lips keep going down, dangerously getting closer to your cleavage. Your breath is getting heavier, your heart beating faster, and your eyes fluttering shut. As he gets closer and closer, soft moans leave your lips, indicating to Joongki’s brother that he’s doing everything well.
Before he even reaches your breasts, he retreats to take a look at your pretty face. When you feel the cold air brushing against your skin, you open your eyes to watch him. His teeth are now playing with the metal ring on his lips while his eyes are clearly devouring you. Dam, this is turning you on.
“Do we keep going?”
You’re about to answer when suddenly, his phone starts buzzing. Someone is trying to call him. He turns around to check who’s calling him.
“It’s Joongki,” he says before answering.
Jungkook sits on the bed, and you do exactly the same. The call doesn’t last long, your roommate barely talks, it’s mostly your best friend talking, you can hear it. Once he puts his phone down, he looks at you.
“He tried to call you, but since you weren’t answering, he was getting worried,” he tells you.
You only nod. “Maybe I should go call him,” you say.
“Well,” Jungkook says as his face gets closer to yours once more. “Maybe you could call him later,” he teasingly says. “He interrupted something.”
A smile appears on your face before you kiss him with evident passion. For sure, your best friend interrupted something, and he can wait because you’re slowly but surely getting desperate for his brother.
“He can probably wait a little bit longer,” you whisper against his lips.
Your teeth bite his lower lip, causing him to moan. That sound alone makes you grow wetter inside your panties. His hands move down to your waist, and before you can even comprehend, they are pushing your pajama pants down your legs.
Once they are at your ankle, his lips hungrily kiss you. You’re definitely desperate for this man. You want more. You don’t simply want to be kissed by this man. You want him to rail the shit out of you. Hopefully, he’s good in bed.
While eagerly kissing each other, you lay down in bed. Jungkook is now hovering over you, his mouth still on yours. By reflex, your legs open to welcome him after removing your pants with your feet. He presses his hips against yours, his growing bulge now against your wet core. That sensation alone makes you moan.
Teasingly, he slowly rolls his hips against yours, but he doesn’t stop kissing you as a desperate man. You hold his pajama shirt firmly as you moan against his lips. Without any doubt, your panties are getting soaked. Jungkook is fucking you when you’re still fully clothed.
His lips finally set free from yours so he can rest his forehead against yours. His lusty eyes stare deep into yours which causes you to moan. Your walls clench around emptiness, but you’re slowly getting desperate to feel something inside you.
Jungkook’s hips stop moving only for him to speak. “Sit on my face,” he says. “But first, remove your underwear, angel,” he adds.
No need to be a genius to understand that he wants to eat you out while you sit on his face. It’s something you never tried before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. However, you desire nothing more than being eaten out by this man so you do as he says so.
In a matter of seconds, you throw your underwear onto the floor. Jungkook moves to be now lying down in bed with an eager smile on his face. He bites his lower lip when he sees your core.
“I’ve never done that before,” you confess when you get closer to him.
“Okay,” he nods. “All you have to do is sit on my face and enjoy the ride, love,” he tells you.
The little cute nicknames make your heart flutter.
You place yourself over his head, your heart pounding fast. You feel a bit shy to have your pussy on full display on his face.
“Nice,” he tells you. “Now, bring yourself closer to my face,” you do as he says so, his hands grabbing your thighs to guide you down against his face. “Perfect,” his hot breath tickles your core which makes you move a tiny bit.
The sweet scent of your arousal makes him hungry, causing him to lick his lips. “Your cunt smells so good, yn,” he whispers against your core.
His nose brushes against your core, a small moan leaving your lips at the feeling. As he hears the barely audible moan, he deliberately breathes against your throbbing core, the cool air sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, you grow wetter which gives him more juices to lap. A smirk grows on his face when he notices it.
Before you can even process what is happening, he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at it. The coldness of his lip piercing and the tickling of his nose on your core instantly send goosebumps throughout your entire body. Little moans leave your lips while he starts to torture you with his mouth. It surprises you how cold his piercing is.
This is by far the best oral sex experience you’ve ever had. First of all, nobody else has ever eaten you out like that. And on top of that, you’re wondering how on earth you’ve never done it this way. In this position, it feels like you can sense everything even more.
Automatically, you bury your hand in Jungkook’s hair, pulling it as he laps your sensitive clit with his tongue. A groan rumbles from his chest, the sound echoing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having his nose in your core. He makes sure to take his time as he wants you to grow wetter and wetter, he doesn’t want to rush things because he wants you two to enjoy this moment.
After a little while, he buries his tongue in your hole, causing an explosion of fireworks inside you. The man laps at your arousal as if his life was at stake. His eyes glance up at you, enjoying the way your body is contorting with delight. An evil smirk appears on his face while he keeps lapping at your juices. Your back arches, causing you to push your pussy closer to his mouth, and a trail of moans escapes your pretty lips.
“So pretty,” Jungkook mutters against your core.
Naturally, you start rolling your hips over his head, your hand running and pushing your hair back in order to not stick against your face as you start to sweat. The moans get louder as the wave of pleasure begins to strongly build within your lower stomach, his ears hissing at the sweet but loud sounds.
His eyes glance down with marvel at your core. Everything about you is extremely wonderful.
Jungkook senses the orgasm building stronger inside you at an extremely fast pace. Your body is moving more and more, your walls are clenching way too much, and your moans are also getting high-pitched. The man starts to suck harder on your core to make you come all over his face. That’s all he wishes for right now.
Your free hand goes to the headboard of the bed to hold yourself onto something. The man below you is sucking and lapping every single drop of your arousal, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It’s a matter of seconds before you come undone all over his face.
“Jungkook,” you mutter as your hips desperately roll over his face.
The man underneath you detaches his mouth when your legs start shaking, indicating that your orgasm is finally hitting you intensely. His name leaves your mouth when the wave of pleasure explodes inside you, your back arching even more, and you close your eyes to enjoy every second of it.
Your arousal leaks over his pretty lips while he watches with marvel at the way you come over his face. This man is without any doubt very skilled with his mouth and tongue. Not only does he kiss well, but he also knows how to bring pleasure.
Jungkook moves under you, your core now pressed against his covered chest. It takes you a moment to come down from your high, he can even feel your walls clenching against his toned chest. His hands caress your hips, trying to bring you comfort as you come down. His eyes never leave your pretty face.
He swears he has never seen any prettier woman.
His hands are caressing your thighs as he admires you. Your cheeks are red, your hair is a complete mess, and your pretty lips are swollen from the intense making out that happened minutes ago.
When you realize that you’re dirtying his pajama with your arousal, you stand up but his strong hands firmly hold you tight against him. “What are you doing?” he asks with obvious confusion.
“I’m dirtying your pajamas,” you answer.
“Don’t worry about that, angel,” he winks at you.
Since you don’t want to make his pajamas dirtier and you want to give him pleasure, you move your body down on his. This time around, he realizes what you’re about to do. The simple thought of feeling your hand around him makes him grow harder.
Without an ounce of hesitation, you push down his pajamas pants with his underwear. He raises his hips to help you out, and you throw them on the floor. Once his cock is freed, it slaps against his shirt.
Your eyes instantly glance down at the beast between his legs. He is massive. Even massive is probably an understatement. For sure, he holds the record for the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. In a matter of seconds, Jungkook takes the last piece of clothing off his body to be fully naked in front of you.
You patiently wait for him to lay back on the bed so you can place yourself in between his toned legs, your hands running up and down his thighs. You bite your lips as you’re watching him getting naked. His body is very toned. His chest is broad as fuck, and his arm is fully covered in tattoos. This pretty much gives bad-boy vibes. Thankfully, you know that he isn’t one. Well, at least, he doesn’t seem to be one.
You also remove your top in order to be fully naked as well. It’s not as sexy as the way he removed his shirt, but you’re now naked together.
“Can I touch you?” you ask him, your eyes glancing up to meet his.
With his eyes locked with yours, he nods. He’s completely desperate to feel your fingers around him. Since you’re equally desperate to please him, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick.
His head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan escapes his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.
“Damn, angel,” he growls, “you’re touching me so fucking perfectly.”
A smile appears on your face at his words. Based on your ex words, you are very skilled with your hands so you hope to provide a lot of pleasure to Jungkook. You want to reward him with the same pleasure he granted you with his mouth.
Slowly, you start pumping him, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving how you’re touching him.
As you pump his massive length with your hands, you never stop glancing at him. There’s nothing more rewarding than seeing him melting in your hands.
It’s absolutely incredible to think that you’re sharing such an intimate moment. Barely a week ago it was inconceivable that you’d be here with him. So, this alone is a surprise. Yesterday night, while you were turning in your bed, you were only thinking about the kiss he almost gave you. And now, you’re basically having sex.
That’s incredible.
After a little while, you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, causing deeper and louder moans to leave his mouth. You lick his tip, his precum coating your tongue before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock to fully sink down on his length.
“Shit, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him.
He swears that he’s about to fall apart, painting your throat white with his seed. For a little while, your head bobs up and down his length, your tongue twirling along to try to satisfy him as much as possible. Your roommate closes his eyes while he lets his pleasure overwhelm him.
When he opens his eyes, he’s graced with your filthy eyes staring up at him. He never knew that he desperately needed to see you looking at him like that. That sight alone makes him bust right there, his hot seed filling that pretty mouth of yours. You swallow every single drop of his hot cum, but your eyes never leave his face as he groans loudly.
Jungkook looks incredibly hot when he has an orgasm.
Slowly, he comes down from his high, your mouth leaving his cock to just watch him being completely overwhelmed with his orgasm. He looks like an absolute angel but clearly, an angel that seems to have had his cock sucked. His hair is already messy, and his lips are all wet with your arousal, which honestly looks pretty good on him.
“Would you want to keep going?” he asks with his heavy breathing.
The simple fact that he raises the question melts your heart. Your ex never did that before. Once you’d start, he would just keep going without checking if you’d want to stop or not. Well, obviously, you never wanted him to stop. But now, you wished he could have asked it.
It’s pretty obvious you want more but he still wants to make sure you want it. He’s not going to force you to do anything, he has never been like that. After you pushed him away yesterday, he honestly expected you to do the same as things started to get steamy.
You crawl over his body so both your faces are close. For a brief moment, you just glance at each other. You bend down, your face getting closer to his ear, “yes, I want it,” you whisper with a smile on your face.
Jungkook bites his lower lip, he’s having goosebumps all over his body. “I didn’t bring any condom,” he informs you. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen.”
If he knew beforehand that you’d have sex, he would have bought a hundred condoms. He would have used all your free time to fuck you senseless. But this is highly unexpected.
“Don’t worry,” you say. “I have a vaginal ring.”
For years, you’ve been trying different birth control. At first, it was the pill, but very quickly you changed to the vaginal ring since it felt better than the pill.
You press a sweet kiss on his lips. A sincere smile grows on his face, he’s so happy to be here today with you. With your hands, you grab his little monster before brushing it against your pussy. A whimper leaves his lips while he shuts his eyes close. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.
A deep moan leaves your mouth as his massive dick stretches you out, your hands falling on his chest to balance yourself. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock deeper inside you.
“You’re so big,” you whisper.
“If it’s too big, we can stop,” he proposes.
“Eeeh,” you slap his chest. “There’s no way we stop here, Jungkook.”
Jungkook giggles at your words, his face lighting up when he does so. He’s incredibly beautiful when he’s smiling.
You sit on his lap with his cock almost completely inside you, your eyes looking down at him with a bright smile on your face. Jungkook licks his lips, loving to have this beautiful sight in front of him. At this precise moment, he’s wondering why you both lost your time with your exes. This is a hundred times better than all the times he had sex with his ex, and it’s only the beginning.
Very slowly, you start rolling your hips, causing small whimpers to leave his lips. His eyes never leave you as he wishes you to see him starting to melt down under your slow torture.
“You’re riding me like a pro, yn,” he compliments you, letting you also know that you’re doing it right.
“Thanks,” you sincerely say.
Riding your ex is something you wouldn’t do that often, but you’d enjoy it when it happened.
“But,” he starts saying. “I don’t want this to be any slow.” His hands hold your hips tightly allowing him to turn both your bodies to have you now under him.
“Eeeeh,” you say as he places you under him.
His lips find yours for another kiss, the taste of your juice being all over his soft lips while he can taste a bit of his cum inside your mouth.
“I’m gonna wreck you so bad,” he whispers against your lips. Your walls clench around his cock, causing him to moan at the end of his sentence.
“Then, do it,” you reply. “Ruin me.”
Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you with delight. He brutally pushes his cock fully inside you, a loud moan leaving your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you before his lips meet yours again for a sloppy kiss.
“Will you stay like that forever?” you cock an eyebrow.
“Looks like someone is impatient,” he chuckles.
For a second, his eyes get lost in your body, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. You’re completely intoxicated by the feeling of him stretching your walls.
Without wasting any more time, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. He leans closer again before licking the spot just under your ear. His hands slowly travel down your body to rest on your hips while his hips slowly thrust into you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the bedroom.
“Damn,” you manage to say. “You really know how to use that cock.”
Sex with your ex was totally different. He’d always prefer to do things nice and slow, it would never be rough. He didn’t like it at all. Honestly, since you didn’t experience much before him, it was fine for you. You enjoyed it as well.
However, now that you’re being fucked by Jungkook, you realize that a bit of roughness can be better.
Jungkook chuckles at your words. “Of course I do,” he whispers in your ear. “After all, I ain’t called the best man in bed for nothing.”
You roll your eyes. This man seems to have quite a big ego. For sure, you can agree so far with that title ⏤ most probably a self-given title ⏤ but you won’t say it.
The feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his covered cock. He licks his lips as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.
“You’re making such a mess, yn,” he growls.
His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against your walls which only causes you to moan even louder. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts.
“And you’re responsible for that mess,” you teasingly say although you’re completely lost in your euphoric state.
“You’re a fucking tease, yn,” he hisses. “Never imagined you like that.”
“Should have fucked me sooner to find it out,” you wink at him.
Honestly, you’re even surprising yourself by being such a tease. With your ex, you’d talk in bed but it wouldn’t be like this. With Jungkook, you simply can’t help yourself, he’s literally giving you everything to tease him.
“That’s my biggest regret right now, angel,” he manages to say in between his moans.
His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing it.
His hands move on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body like no one else.
“Damn, Jungkook,” you say.
His thrusts become again slow and harsh while his fingers on your nipples are pushing you closer and closer to the edge. This man is without any doubt very skilled when it comes to sex. Fuck, you wished you would have sex sooner.
Gradually, Jungkook resumes to thrust hard into you, and your moans follow his harsh movements as they get louder and louder. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you harshly. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust, the way you’re losing yourself further into pleasure.
“Fuck,” he groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, angel.”
As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with so much passion and desire as his tongue licks his lower lips. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency. Quickly enough, you sense inside your stomach the powerful feeling of pleasure growing. This is becoming overwhelming.
“Gonna come so hard,” you tell him.
His fingers pinch your nipples while his cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
“Don’t hold back, angel.”
Since he wants to torture you more and more as you get closer to your orgasm, one of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps slamming roughly inside you.
“Jungkook,” you almost scream in surprise.
His fingers on your clit are what you need for your orgasm to explode intensely, making you come hard around him. Your walls squeeze him over and over again while you come all over him.
While you’re completely euphoric from your orgasm, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts.
Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made. A loud groan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard, your name rolling out of his tongue. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside you, his semen painting your walls white.
Jungkook collapses over you, both your bodies covered in sweat. While you both come down from your high, you simply enjoy this proximity. You wrap your arms around his body to hold him tightly against you. Nobody talks. The room is only filled with your heavy breathing while you caress his back.
This is a fantastic way to start the day. After this steamy session, for sure, your day is only going to be amazing. Hot sex with Jungkook in Nazaré is a combo you never thought you needed.
However, once you are calmer, Jungkook stands up with a smile on his face. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand that there will be a round 2. Fuck, this man has an impressive stamina.
“On your fours, angel,” he growls.
“So now, it’s doggy style,” you say as you follow his order, positioning yourself on your hands and knees but you make sure that your ass and pussy are on full display to him.
Jungkook gets closer to you. “My favorite position ever,” he whispers against your ear.
Your roommate takes a step back, his hand holding his hard dick to stroke it a bit as he places himself behind you. His tongue licks his lips while his eyes are glued to your pussy. Slowly, you press your chest against the mattress to give him more visibility to your wet core. You can still feel inside you his release.
Jungkook’s hand touch your pussy to gently touch it. “Still fucking wet,” he mumbles but you can hear it.
“Because you’re fucking me senseless,” you reply, and you moan when he slaps your pussy. Fuck, you’ll have an orgasm before he’ll even be inside you.
“That’s the whole point of what we’re doing,” he grabs your right arm to pin it behind your back, slowly shoving his cock into you again.
You whine, your teeth biting your lower lip as he resumes to pound into you again. He slowly rolls his hips into your pussy.
“Shit, I’m not going to last long,” he grunts.
He leans down, his right hand going down from your waist to your thighs. His fingers brush against your clit, making you moan a bit louder, and they pinch your clit while you bite harder on your lower lip. The man behind you never ceases to thrust into you harshly, making you see stars.
Every muscle of your body tenses as Jungkook abuses both your clit and pussy. But you decide to torture him a bit as well, it’d be only fun for him to torture you. You clench your walls around him, making him groan louder and smirk
“You’re such a fucking tease,” he moans lustfully as he gives you a harsher thrust.
You’re unable to reply since Jungkook has decided to increase his pace. His hips slam into yours ruthlessly which causes the whole bed to shake under your bodies. Your moans are louder and louder as his cock hits all your sweet spots. The pleasure is slowly but surely growing strongly inside you, and you try as hard as possible to hold your orgasm.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Jungkook whimpers.
The second the words leave his mouth, he fills you with his cum and he holds your hips tightly while he gives you small harsh thrusts. Your name rolls out of his tongue, and you decide to let go of your orgasm. There’s no point in holding back. Your walls squeeze him hard when your orgasm hits you once more, your arousal leaking all over his cock.
Jungkook pulls out of you before he lays down next to you on the bed. You come closer to him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you tight against him. None of you speaks while you both catch your breaths.
“I guess now you can call my brother,” his lips press a gentle kiss on top of your head.
A little chuckle leaves your lips at his words. “Let me first catch my breath,” you tell him. “I’m sure he’ll understand right away what we did.”
“Well, I don’t mind him knowing it,” Jungkook replies while doing circles in your back with his fingers.
“But I’m convinced he doesn’t want to,” you look up at him. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to know that my brother fucked my best friend.”
Jungkook giggles before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
Joongki will probably know one day what happened here, but you don’t want him to know it just yet. You’re not sure how he’ll react, and honestly, you’re a bit scared of his reaction. Will he hate you for sleeping with his brother? Probably not, but it still would be weird to say to your best friend that his brother slept with you.
After an hour in bed talking about random things, you and Jungkook decide to leave the apartment and go admire the waves again. After all, you’re here for that.
Usually, you’d directly go to the top of the sturdy rock since the waves are more impressive from there. But today, you decide to go to the beach. They are less massive, but still, you can admire them from another point of view.
You’re sitting at the edge of the sidewalk, right where the sand begins. The sea isn’t that far from you so you really have a beautiful view from where you are. The sea seems more furious than yesterday so Jungkook knows you won’t stay long here before going to the top of the massive rock.
“Today, the sea is creating bigger waves,” you tell Jungkook. “It’s quite impressive.”
He turns his head to look at you. In all honesty, when you moved in with him five years ago, he barely noticed you. He had just come back from New Zealand where he lived for two years. His relationship with Yoojung was starting and his mind was definitely somewhere else. You were simply the best friend of his brother. Nothing more.
However, today, he regrets he didn’t really look at you back then. It would have probably spared him a heartbreak. But, at the end of the day, isn’t it prettier that things between you start here in Nazaré, a place you both wanted to visit?
Of course, you still have to figure out things between you. Obviously, you like each other so you’ll have to see what happens after this trip. Jungkook won't force you to do anything. If you don’t want to give a shot to whatever is going on between you, he’ll respect your choice.
You turn your face to look at Jungkook, offering him a smile when you notice that he’s already looking at you.
“What do you think will happen after this trip?” Jungkook asks you.
You shrug. “I’m not sure,” you say at first. “But if you’d like, we could continue what started here.”
Now, he’s the one smiling, and he’s smiling like an idiot, he’s aware of that.
“I’d love to,” he says with the brightest smile on his face.
Your face gets closer to him and Jungkook breaks the space between your faces to kiss you gently. This is undoubtedly the biggest surprise this trip offered him. After the kiss, you simply lay your head on his shoulder while you keep admiring the beauty of the sea. Nazaré, the town where you fell in love with each other.
#bts#bts imagine#bts fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts angst#jungkook angst#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#effet mer#spideyjimin
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ex-conomics | csc
you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.
⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3
You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.
“Um—”
You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”
“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”
Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.
TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)
You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.
That, however, was two years ago.
“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”
Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”
“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”
You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”
Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”
The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”
You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”
“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”
“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”
“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.
But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”
You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.
You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.
You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.
You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.
You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.
You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.
You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.
So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.
“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”
For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.
A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.
But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.
Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.
You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.
Your stomach plummets to the floor.
You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.
“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.
Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.
The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.
“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”
Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”
She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”
“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”
She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”
You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”
“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”
Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”
Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.
You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”
“And continued wearing it?”
She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”
Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.
So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”
“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”
“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”
Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”
You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.
Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.
“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”
The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.
“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”
She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:
doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄
You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”
“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”
You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.
You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.
And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.
But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.
They never do.
And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.
“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
This time it is an accusation.
Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.
You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.
Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.
Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.
You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.
“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”
You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.
“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”
But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.
“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”
And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.
You cannot go there again.
So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”
Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.
You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.
Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”
He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.
But you did, so it stings all the same.
As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.
You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.
Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.
Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.
He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.
Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”
“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”
“Depends. How long do you have?”
“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”
“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”
You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”
He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”
“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”
You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”
“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”
Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.
And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.
Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.
“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”
He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”
“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.
You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.
You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.
He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.
It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—
“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”
“At this university?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”
Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.
“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”
You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”
Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.
So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.
Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.
But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.
You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.
Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.
The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.
“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”
He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.
“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”
“Oh—yeah, right.”
You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.
You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.
I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.
Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.
But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.
So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.
“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”
“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”
You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”
She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.
The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.
“Not bad, actually.”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”
Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.
“Can I help you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”
You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”
He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”
You blink. “No, you didn’t.”
Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”
What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.
“They want to know about his girlfriend.”
“His what?”
What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.
But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.
You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.
Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.
“What’s wrong?”
Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.
What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”
“Oh. Are you okay?”
You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”
Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”
“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”
“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”
“Seungcheol,” you correct.
He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.
They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.
Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?
Seungcheol shared a location with you
You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.
You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.
Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.
Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.
“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”
“Oh. How’s he doing?”
Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”
“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”
You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.
“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”
You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”
Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.
The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.
He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…
It’s the familiarity, you realize.
You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.
“That’s not what I’m say—”
“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”
“Right—not good enough, like I said.”
“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”
“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”
You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.
So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.
The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.
Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.
Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.
Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.
“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.
Also fruitless.
You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.
And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.
But it isn’t, and you’re not.
“If you’re not going to listen, then—”
“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.
Perhaps he never did.
“What are we discussing, then?”
Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”
You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”
It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.
“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”
He nods.
“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”
The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.
So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.
Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.
Kaori invites you to a party.
Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.
After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.
So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.
At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.
You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.
You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.
You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.
You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.
Seungcheol finds you in your office.
It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.
You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.
So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.
“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”
He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”
“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”
You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.
So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.
But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.
Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.
Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.
“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.
You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.
Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.
Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.
Again.
Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.
She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.
Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.
And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”
Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”
“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”
She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”
“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”
“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”
You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”
“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”
A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.
Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.
You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.
Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?
Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.
Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?
Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.
You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.
L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.
You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.
So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.
She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.
“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”
“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”
Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”
You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.
And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”
She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”
“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”
You do.
Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.
It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.
You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.
You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.
The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.
There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.
You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.
(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)
One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.
Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.
Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.
You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.
“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”
Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”
Cut to black.
The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…
I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…
You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.
I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?
I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.
So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…
I’m sorry.
I love you.
You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.
The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.
“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”
On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”
“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”
She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”
“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”
After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.
The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.
Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.
You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…
And start recording.
He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.
There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?
He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…
Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?
It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—
And then there it was.
All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—
Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.
I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.
I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.
Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.
Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.
You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.
Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.
I love you, too.
—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.
Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.
There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.
He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”
“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.
There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.
Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.
Somehow you taste the same.
Somehow you taste like redemption.
You taste like home.
Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.
When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—
And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.
“I always will.”
(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)
if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭
i would love to hear your thoughts! <3
#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol angst#seungcheol au#scoups angst#seungcheol imagines#scoups imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#jewel writes
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HALF RETURN
PAIRING ➩ jay x reader
SUMMARY ➩ your small towns yearly fall festival was your biggest pride and joy but getting your friends to help volunteer was nearly impossible. luckily one of them was stupid enough and too secretly inlove with you to help himself from offering.
WC ➩ 15.6k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Surprise! It’s been a long time since I’ve sat down and wrote something that I actually enjoyed but this was a lot of fun to write and hopefully the start of me coming back on here in the future. It’s not my most exciting or hot and heavy piece of work but if you’re looking for a light fluffy small town read then I really hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Happy fall everybody and thanks for your patience and support as always. NOT AT ALL PROOFREAD
The cold bite of fall had always been your favorite time of year, finding it easiest to romanticize both its pros and its cons.
Which was something you did with just about everything and everyone you ever encountered, making them larger than life as a character in your story before they were leaving and their starring chapter was turning the page with them.
So it was your favorite time of year for many reasons, the realistic ones like the fact it was the slowest months of work and you got more paid time off than you probably deserved, but also because it was so terribly romantic in all the sniffly nose and itchy sweater goodness that came along with it.
That’s why it was no surprise to the people around you that you were constantly surrounding yourself with fall activities and hobbies. Your small town didn’t offer much, mainly known for biking through the winding roads of the mountains and the sleek dark concrete that always seemed to be wet because of the constant rainfall. It did, however, have a yearly fall festival that you had been volunteering at since you were in middle school.
You’d always heard people growing up who talked about wanting to get out of your hometown, dreamily describing big cities they’d seen on vacations and how much different the world was past the mountains and trees.
You never felt the longing to escape something this beautiful and rare and while you figured the world outside was as amazing as they described, you preferred where you had grown up. It was quiet and easy to memorize, everybody knew everybody and treated each other like family so nobody stole from others or treated them poorly. It was easy to love and, in your mind, easy to stay in as you grew old and had your own family.
Despite your own strong feelings towards your hometown, your friends probably wanted to escape it more than the average person.
You’d spent more than a few dozen hangouts laying in various basements across old couches and listening to them talk about their dreams, dreams that would take them hundreds of miles away from this town and hundreds of miles away from you.
That didn’t stop you from excitedly rushing over to the assigned hangout house for the weekend, your bike tires going so fast they were kicking up mud onto your bare legs as you pushed your thighs past your limit to peddle.
You were hurriedly hopping off once you caught sight of the familiar house, leaning your bike against the chipped paint on the side of it and quickly kicking off your dirty shoes as you greeted the mother of one of your best friends. She wasn’t at all thrown off by your quick entry or the fact you were disappearing into the basement before she could respond or tell you to clean off your dirty legs, more than used to your group of friends coming and going as the sun set.
The sounds of your pounding footsteps didn’t even grab the attention of the group of people hanging out in the basement, only one looking up to watch you as you stumbled in.
“I have great news.” You announced with a large smile, hands extended towards them to really drive forward the importance of your words .
Jay, one of your lifelong friends and the one who had watched you as you entered, raised his eyebrows in question and sat up slightly, a direct opposite of the others who didn’t even bother to acknowledge you yet.
“Mrs. Potter broke her leg.” You squeaked out the news and clenched your hands into excited fist, your smile only faltering when Sunghoon was turning to look at you with a confused glare and Heeseung stopped plucking at the guitar strings he was tuning to give you a look of bewilderment. The room fell silent and you dropped your hands against your sides in upset.
“I know she can be a bit of a nag but is that really something to celebrate?” Jungwon had an eyebrow cocked as he looked at you finally but you could see a hint of amusement on his face.
You were dramatically groaning and sulking your way over to the couch, flopping down onto the spot next to Jay and failing to fully notice the way he was tensing up for a second and then awkwardly clearing his throat when your leg brushed against his. You wrote it off as him being weary of the mud on your legs getting onto his pants, giving him a quick sorry glance before scooting over a tad.
“Of course I’m not happy about her broken leg.” You shot Jungwon a glare for his purposefully wrong assumption and he gave you a smile, eyebrows raising and hiding behind his bangs for a second. “But since she’s injured, may she heal quickly, that means there’s an open job at the fair.”
The finality of the news drew out immediate reactions from your friends. Presenting in the form of an eye roll from Jungwon as he immediately lost interest in the conversation, a disbelieving laugh from Sunghoon and an apologetic smile from Heeseung.
“Sorry Y/N but I helped you last year.” He was shaking his head and plucking at the strings again, happy he had an excuse and the others didn’t.
“That was six years ago.” You deadpanned at him, remembering all too well considering how terrible of a volunteer the tall boy had been. It wasn’t long before he was being asked to step down by the couple who ran it so his position could be filled by somebody who didn’t let the popcorn machine overflow or hand out free prizes to any kid that sniffled and gave him their best begging puppy eyes.
He just shrugged at your correction and your frown deepened despite the fact you’d already figured they’d say no considering they’d been doing so for almost a decade. You had hoped the guilt from Mrs. Potters injury would have been enough to convince at least one of the four boys.
“You’ve been asking us for all this time and we’ve never accepted. Why not ask Jake from the soccer team, doesn’t he have the hots for you?” Sunghoon was speaking in a bored tone as he relayed the information, not paying enough attention to notice the way you froze up and stared at him in confusion.
“Dude…” Heeseung trailed off as he shot his friend an annoyed stare, stretching out his leg so he could kick the boys knee in a form of scolding.
“Jake likes me?” You sat up straighter and stared at the oldest boy, trusting his word over the other threes. “Like Jake Sim? How long have you guys known about this?”
They exchanged guilty looks between themselves and you turned to look at the boy closest to you for answers instead.
Jay had always been the most mature out of your little group, even when you were all kids pushing each other around on the playground. He seemed like the oldest at times even though Heeseung took that role, strikingly alert and calm when situations caused everyone else to panic. You definitely weren’t the closest though friendship wise considering he wasn’t the biggest talker, more likely to stand in the corner and take small sips of his drink than actually engage in your loud conversations.
You always figured this was because he didn’t have any friends outside of your circle. The other boys had some more casual buddies, take Jake Sim for example, but Jay pretty much stuck to himself if he wasn’t with the four of you.
He had a certain energy that you weren’t used to seeing growing up, something about him being different than the others and that was including you and your friends. Even his look stood out, jet black hair with piercing eyes that only looked more intimidating considering he primarily wore dark clothes and a hint of smudged eyeliner.
Most people in town, and school growing up, found his presence overly intimidating and you’d heard your fair share of whispers about him and your group of friends.
His attempts to be seen as scary and keep people away from him never was turned onto you and you’d dealt with a lot of teasing from the others boy, making fun of Jay for having a soft spot for you or pouting that he let you do things he always refused to do for them. He’d glare at them until they shut up and moved on or he’d offer a soft shrug, followed by a hint of a smile when you giggled lightly at his lack of denial.
That’s why you were turning to face him now with wide and begging eyes, leaning against his side and wrapping your hand around his hoodie clothed arm to make sure his attention was on you, despite the fact it always seemed to be anyways.
“Did you hear Jake saying he likes me Jay?” Your voice was sickeningly sweet and you could hear the other boys groaning in disgust at your attempts to butter up their friend.
It didn’t seem to be working this time considering he was just staring at you with a blank expression, gaze dropping to where your hand was holding him for just a second like he was considering something before he was shrugging softly. You pouted again at his lack of response despite knowing your friend was a man of few words.
“He wouldn’t tell Jay anyways doofus, he knows that he-“ Heeseung was laughing as he started to speak and explain something that was abruptly cut off by Jungwon aggressively chucking the magazine he was flipping through in his direction.
The older boy let out a yelp and held his hands up in surrender. You looked back at Jay confused and waiting for him to fill in the blanks, even more lost when you noticed him glaring at Heeseung with a slightly fearful expression under the anger.
You suddenly remembered you were still holding onto his arm and you gently squeezed it to try and bring his attention for you, grateful it worked when he was awkwardly meeting your gaze again and sighing softly. You cocked an eyebrow in silent conversation as you waited for him to tell you what they were being suspicious about, grateful that in the background Heeseung had started to strum at his guitar again and the other two begun to talk about nonsense.
“Do you think Jake likes me enough to help me with the fair?” Your voice was a low whisper as you stared at him, leaning in slightly and missing the way his jaw clenched at your question.
“You know me and Jake aren’t friends Y/N, I wouldn’t know anything about it.” He was overwhelmingly glad your friends weren’t paying attention anymore because he knew for a fact his voice had taken on that extra sweet tone he only used with you, meeting your volume and also whispering softly despite the fact you both didn’t need to.
You were pouting again and not moving away from his face, so busy in your thoughts you once again failed to notice the way his eyes were dropping down to your pushed out lips that were closer to his than usual.
He knew you were just being dramatic, something you commonly were regardless of the situation, but he couldn’t stand seeing the expression on your face or the disappointment in your eyes. He was taking in a big breathy sigh, getting your attention again as you squeezed his arm and gave him another wide eyed and hopeful look.
“But you don’t need to ask him anyways because I’ll volunteer with you.”
You were breaking out into a wide smile at the same exact time the other boys in the room were making shocked and angry exclamations, being drowned out by your excited shriek, you closed the distance between you and Jay and leapt forward to give him a hug, pressing his back against the armrest of the couch and practically falling into his lap out of excitement.
“Dude what are you talking about? What about band practice?” Sunghoon’s annoyed tone was seeping through your happiness and piercing it with a knife of realization causing you to sit up slightly and look down at Jay in confusion.
“He’s right, what are you going to do about practice?” You were pouting at him again but slightly above him now considering you were still halfway in his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck. You watched the way his ears were turning red the longer you stayed in that position but you assumed he was just flustered from his plans colliding. “I can ask Jake if you’re busy it’s really no big deal.”
You heard a pained grunt from behind you and turned to see Sunghoon cradling his knee with a hurt expression, you followed his line of sight to see Jungwon glaring viciously at him.
“Sunghoon’s an idiot Y/N don’t listen to him, Jay is completely free to help you out with the fair.” Jungwon had taken on a sickeningly sweet tone and your nose scrunched up in disgust at the sound of it, looking between the four boys suspiciously.
None of them were meeting your gaze full out but you tried to ignore how weird they were all being about the situation, more excitement creeping back up at the confirmation you’d have help with the fair, especially since it was Jay who was miles more mature than the rest of them. You were squeezing him back into a hug with another happy squeal and he returned it weakly, eyeing Jungwon viciously over your shoulder.
——
You’d spend most of the following Monday morning getting ready for the first day of setting up the fair, tightly wrapping your scarf around your neck and settling your ear muffs just loose enough so you’d still be able to hear while avoiding the cold chill as it got later in the day.
Your morning hot chocolate was abandoned on the kitchen sink when you heard the soft bells chiming from outside your house, typically occupied by numerous other louder ringings but you knew who it was immediately judging by its gentle sound.
Looking out your living room window confirmed your suspicions seeing Jay sitting on his bike at the end of your drive way and staring down at his hands. He was picking at his fingers, a habit he’d adapted after the callouses from his guitar started to form more often.
Your fist was banging on the thick glass roughly, a smile on your face building when he jump slightly on his bike seat and looked up towards your direction with a startled expression. You waved at him and his shoulders released a little bit of tension, turning your hand over and fanning it towards you, silently instructing him to come inside.
He was hesitating for a second before you saw him gently lowering his bike down onto your front yard, bouncing in your stride as you went to open the door for him.
“I figured you’d want some cocoa before you were stuck in the cold all day.” You were quickly explaining your invitation inside to him as soon as you swung the wooden door open, he’d barely gotten up the steps and gave you a surprised look before nodding swiftly in agreement and coming inside.
You walked back to the kitchen with him in tow and tried to ignore the weird nervous feeling building in your stomach. You’d been alone with Jay countless times so you hadn’t thought much about it but the more you reflected back on it the more you realized you’d mainly sat in awkward silence for short durations waiting for the others to come back and ease the tension.
Pouring the steaming hot chocolate into a new mug for him, you told yourself to not take it personally.
Jay had always been on the quieter side and you knew it had nothing to do with you, as far as you were concerned. This was confirmed a bit when you glanced over your shoulder to see him awkwardly standing against the wall near the doorway, watching you as you poured the drinks but quickly diverting his attention around the room when you made eye contact.
You laughed softly, handling the hot handles carefully as you turned slowly, nudging your chin towards the living room so he understood where you were heading as you walked past him.
“Thank you again for helping me Jay.” You were speaking in a low voice as you sat on the couch, leaning over to hand him his drink considering he sat an entire cushion away from you. “I know you didn’t necessarily want to.”
He wasn’t responding out loud, just give you a soft nod of his head and looking down at the cup of hot chocolate awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs around the mugs handle and shifting in his spot on the couch. A frown was instinctively forming on your face at his silence and you wondered for a second if you should make up some excuse to free him of his responsibilities, maybe tell him you’d actually found somebody else to help out.
But then he was glancing at you and the corner of his mouth turned up just enough for you to notice and you felt better, a wide grin breaking out on yours.
“Oh.” Your eyes widened suddenly as you remembered something you’d gotten for him as a thank you, quickly telling him you’d be right back and rushing up the stairs to your bedroom, leaving him on the couch.
You returned swiftly with the fabric in your hands to see him sitting tensely in the same spot, waiting to see what you’d gotten so excited about. His eyebrows raised when you approached holding the long string of material and you smiled more at his clear hesitance, sitting directly next to him on the couch and turning to face him.
“What is that thing?” He was questioning in a low tone but you could hear the humor in the question, clearly amused by the monstrosity you were holding.
“I’ve taken up crocheting recently.” You explained to him with a smile, stretching out the clothing in your hands to show him exactly what it was you were gifting him. “I figured I’d make you a scarf so you didn’t get too cold helping me. It even matches mine.”
Your excitement was clear despite the fact it clearly didn’t match your store bought white scarf. The black fabric was lumpy and awkward, random strings sticking out in places they weren’t meant to be and barely forming a straight enough line to properly be a scarf.
Jay couldn’t have cared less about how the gift looked, he was flushed in the face just due to the fact you’d chosen to make him it in the first place. He figured you would have done it for whoever agreed to help you and he imagined you’d be gifting them all a lot of hand made things if the hobby managed to actually stick, but your smile when you shifted towards him more and indicated you wanted to put it on him was a gift enough in itself.
He watched your face closely as you delicately wrapped it around his neck, crossing the ends so it wouldn’t slip off easily or open up.
You were meeting his gaze for half a second and giving him a proud smile before a bright flash from the side of you was startling you both, jumping away from each other and widening the distance you hadn’t even realized was closing. You turned your head quickly to see what had made the interruption and a low groan pushed past your lips when you saw your mother standing there with her polaroid camera.
“I’m sorry! You two just looked so cute matching together.” She was giving you a sheepish grin as she poked her head out from behind the blocky camera, eyes teasing and glancing between both of you.
You glanced at Jay to see he had completely tensed up again, jaw tight as he avoided looking at you and stared towards your mother before going back to picking at his rough hands.
She wasn’t exactly wrong about the two of you matching, the scarves being the main point of focus but it didn’t help that Jay was wearing his typical head to two black clothing and you’d gone for a lightly colored white and tan pallet today, so perfectly opposite it almost looked intentional.
“It’s nice to see you as always Jay, it’s been a while since you’ve come around.” Your mothers tone was sweet as she spoke to him but you could see the curiosity on her face, causing you to quickly stand from the couch and butt in.
“Thanks mom but we really have to get going, can’t be late on the first day.” You gave her a tight smile and instinctively reached your hand backwards for Jay to take it.
It was left empty for a few seconds and you glanced over your shoulder to see him staring at it with confusion before he was setting his untouched mug down and clasping his rough hand in yours. You tugged him forward and he made a small shocked noise as you dragged him out of the house, listening to your mom call out wishing the two of you good luck with the fair.
You both stayed silent as he picked his bike up from off the wet grass and waited for you to unlock yours, your hands moving fast to switch the numbers and remove it from the rickety old piece of wood your mother called a handrail despite barely being stable enough for a twig to lean on it let alone a human.
Suddenly you felt an emotion you rarely did, embarrassment flooding through you as your neck got hotter and hotter under your scarf.
You found yourself wondering what Jay thought of the state of your house even though all the boys had been there over a dozen times and you’d never once considered picking up the messes your mom made in a rush or raking the pile of leaves and twigs surrounding your old porch.
Almost everyone in town was around the same class in terms of wealth and status, with the small exception of families like Heeseung’s who could afford weekly maintenance on their yards and a fully finished basement with little risk of flooding, but he was very generous with his extra space and would slyly cover lunches and treats without making a big deal about it.
You’d surprisingly never been to Jay’s house and you weren’t sure the other boys had been either.
He always insisted on walking home or being dropped off in the center of town claiming he had a ride on the way without giving too much information. You’d see Sunghoon, who was your usual driver, push it a few times but the uncomfortable look on the older boys face made you take a mental note to not pry for more details yourself.
You sighed when the lock finally popped up and glanced up just enough to see him still watching you patiently, not bothering to make snide remarks about your speed or rush you like your other friends might’ve.
“Sorry about my mom.” You started speaking once you pushed your bike over to where he was standing with his, both of you rolling them out of the driveway and down onto the empty street. The potholes were full of the brown rain water and specs of gravel here and there made it a bit risky to go too fast on your bike but you mounted it anyways.
He didn’t reply directly other than a shake of his head that indicated he saw no issue with it but the silence was killing you and you waited until his bike was steadily riding next to yours before speaking again.
“She’s just so overbearing sometimes and it’s totally embarrassing oh don’t worry she won’t do anything with that photo, I’m not even sure the camera fully works I think it’s just for the effect.” You were definitely rambling but it wasn’t out of character for you to be filling silence with nonsense and excited monologues.
“Your mom is nice.” He was talking suddenly and it indirectly cut off your next stream of verbal thoughts, surprised at the fact he had actually added to the conversation instead of just giving you soft nods and listening. “Atleast from what I can tell.”
You were staring at him with your mouth parted but only for a few seconds so you didn’t run into anything, nodding your head and swapping roles as you fell silent. You ignored the urge to ask about his own mother and turned a corner a little too sharply, thankfully not enough to fall into the dirty street but it still brought a small laugh out of him and you smiled in response.
“It’ll be really easy on the first day.” It was better to switch the line of conversation to something less invasive so you could avoid embarrassing yourself further and he went back to nodding as you spoke, riding slightly in front of you with his hands tightening and unclenching around the handle bars.
You mentally decided you’d learn how to make knitted gloves next.
——
The day thankfully went as simply as you had promised it would considering there wasn’t too much to do yet with the booths just starting to get set up as vendors picked their locations for the year and unpacked their truckloads of goodies.
You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you dragged Jay around, equally as happy about the fair finally happening and the fact you’d managed to have a friend to share it with after so many years of having to keep the excitement to yourself.
Jay was a very good sport about the muddy grass and the chaotic setting of the field that was always used, much more patient with you and your high energy than the other boys would’ve been. You kept your hand locked around his elbow as you pulled him from vendor to vendor, introducing each familiar face to him and giving him a quick rundown on what they sold and where they came from.
You loved the fair so much because it meant you got to see new faces and hear stories about the towns neighboring yours for once, a large amount of the attendees coming from other places to promote their small businesses. The vending was a small part of the entire celebration but it was your personal favorite.
“This booth is the best.” You were leaning a bit closer to him so none of the others heard you and took offense to your bias and he glanced at you from the side of his eye. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
Jay shifted in place as you both studied the half set up booth full of custom made jewelry with shiny metal clasps and crystals you’d never even heard of let alone actually got to see in person.
“She makes all of these herself?” His voice had taken on the same whisper as yours had and you nodded as you followed his line of sight to see the owner of the booth, an older woman who was hanging up a sign with shaky hands and furrowed eyebrows.
Your hand was falling against your side as Jay moved forward and it lost its place on his arm, a frown forming on your face for just a few seconds before a smile replaced it as you realized what he was doing.
His voice was low and gentle as he spoke to her so you couldn’t quite hear what he was saying but she made an appreciative noise and handed the sign over to him so he could help her get it in place, her less shaky hands patting him on the shoulder thankfully once he was finished.
You took a step or two closer which was enough to get his attention and he looked up at you swiftly, eyes widening a bit like he only just now realized he’d left you standing there instinctively.
Surprisingly he was coming back to your side and bending his arm enough to indicate you could hold it again, something you quickly did even if your cheeks flushed a little at the realization you’d been holding onto him the entire day without really even noticing that wasn’t something you typically did.
“How lovely.” The vendor was practically cooing at the sight of you and your mouth dropped open at the implication of both your stance and your matching scarves. “What a kind young man, you’re a lucky lady.”
Jay made a noise that could only be described as strangled and you would have laughed at him if it wasn’t for the bashful look on the woman’s face, clearly regretting her words and assumption because of his reaction.
“I am, aren’t I?” You were giving her a sweet smile before gently patting his arm and watching the side of his face to further bask in his embarrassment.
You could hear her laughing in relief and delight at the sight of the two of you but you were more focused on how red Jay was turning and the way he was intensely attempting to not look at you. You grinned harder before waving goodbye to her and tugging him along, causing him to let out another distressed sound.
“What was that?” He was shocking you by speaking up and questioning your motives but you only laughed at the serious tone he’d taken and continued walking.
“I mean she’s not entirely wrong. I’d say I’m very lucky.” You tilted to the side to bump against him and he let out a scoffed laugh that made your smile grow, pleased you’d gotten him to loosen up a little bit.
You’d taken him a little past the vendors now so the buzz of the moving people and trucks had quieted down, instead being replaced by the clucks of chicken and the soft noises the cows in the barn were making.
The sight of a farm wasn’t uncommon where you lived but this one was particularly amazing to you considering the sheer size of it, making it the perfect space to host the crowds and heavy machinery that came along with the fairs open weekend. The large field would soon be filled with food trucks and a ferris wheel standing taller than the trees surrounding you, children running with caramel apples and a petting zoo full of the same animals in the red barn behind you.
“It’s really something.” Jay was filling the silence and you snapped out of your envisioning to glance at him, finding him also looking out into the field and watching the place come to life. “I didn’t realize how different it would be from just attending.”
“Atleast you don’t find it as boring as the others do.” You’d stopped walking by now in favor of leaning against a large pile of hay stacks and people watching, not surprised that he remained upright and stoic instead of joining you. “I’m really thankful you decided to help me this year even though you’d miss band practice.”
His head snapped over to you in shock and you laughed at the slightly panicked expression, shrugging your shoulders and picking at some of the loose straws of hay underneath you.
“Jungwon wasn’t exactly subtle but I’m grateful nonetheless.” You were standing back up at that and wiping the back of your pants to get the dust off of the fabric, looking back up at him and slightly squinting your eyes against the sun. “You’re a good friend.”
He was scratching the back of his neck and shifting his foot again awkwardly at the compliment but you were glad to see him nod in light acceptance.
“Wanna get some hot chocolate?”
——
A week continued on just like that with Jay arriving to your house a few hours before dinner time and the two of you riding to the field together, your voice overly filling the silence with his light hums and brief comments reassuring you that he was still actively listening.
Jay was providing more than just company, actually assisting you when it was finally time to start helping you and doing the volunteer work your other friends were so eagerly avoiding.
He was lifting heavy slates of wood without being asked twice and waiting for further instruction as you added a fresh coat of bright red paint to the apple bobbing booth. You knew you’d made the right choice with having him help (although your options were limited) and the other regular volunteers seemed to agree.
“Didn’t realize you were into strong guys.” The voice suddenly in your ear was making you jump and nearly spill your apple cider, glaring at the person joining you for the shock even though you were instinctively leaning closer to her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You were mumbling around the styrofoam cup and she laughed mockingly at you, knowing you long enough to see through your indifference.
Cindy was twice your age but you’d gotten along from the moment you eagerly offered to volunteer, her parents being the founders of the fair in the first place which made her the rightful owner once they had passed away a few years ago.
She got on your case regarding just about everything but the tough love was a breath of fresh air considering the type of overbearing and coddling affection you were used to from your mother. It was almost your worst nightmare for her to catch you watching Jay as he helped the other male volunteers move logs and heaps of old wood away from where the mini rides would be installed.
“Honey I know heart eyes when I see them and yours are practically bursting out of your thick skull.” Her hand was reaching over to try to steal a piece of your warm pumpkin donut sat infront of you and you aggressively swatted at it with a scowl.
“He’s my friend. I’ve known him since I was like basically a baby.” You were trying to keep your tone flat and unsuspecting even though you weren’t even quite sure why you suddenly felt on trial.
You weren’t even purposefully eyeballing Jay or whatever she had called it but he just so happened to be directly in your line of sight and coincidentally he had removed his zip up at some point, most likely needing the cold chill because of all the heavy lifting he was doing with a surprise ease.
“Well he’s definitely not a baby anymore.” She made a small appreciative noise and you turned to her with your nose turned up in disgust, taking a moment to soak in her typically eccentric outfit.
Cindy was definitely one of the most interesting people in your town aesthetic wise, big chunky earrings being used as decorations in her large unkept hair and layers and layers of jarringly opposing patterns and fabrics. It somehow worked on her and you always loved the fact she looked like a little halloween trinket come to life.
“That’s disgusting, you could be his mother you know.” Your eyebrows were furrowed but she knew better than to take your annoyance serious, shrugging her shoulders and directing your attention back to the topic of the conversation with a ring covered hand.
“He watches you about as much as you watch him.” She had the same tone she always had when she felt like she was proving you wrong and in this case, she was. Jay was eyeing the two of you as you spoke but trying his best not to make it obvious, getting distracted enough to trip over a log and nearly crash into one of the bigger burlier men working.
He was far enough away that you couldn’t hear the interaction but you laughed at the glare he received and the way he threw both of his hands up in surrender, backing away and giving you a quick embarrassed glance before picking up the log he tripped over.
“Oh what a mess that boy is.” She was successfully stealing the rest of your donut and you sighed in defeat, leaning against her more and letting her signature vanilla scent hit you full force. “Doesn’t speak much does he.”
“You talked to him?” You didn’t quite understand why that peaked your interest so much but she chuckled at the eagerness in your question, nodding her head and chewing the soft donut for a few seconds before answering.
“He came over to old Betsy’s booth when she was using the restroom and I was filling in for her.” She seemed to miss the irony in her calling somebody around her age old and you didn’t dare point it out to her. “Kept eyeing the necklaces.”
You couldn’t think of a time Jay would’ve gone back to the jewelry stand without you and your eyes narrowed further.
“Well did he buy anything?”
“Don’t remember.” She hummed the words so casually but you knew better than to believe her, sitting up off her shoulder and turning your body so you could fully face her with a stern look. Your normally bubbly exterior was easier to lose than you usually preferred around your strange friend but you assumed it was because she never once minded you on your grumpiest days.
“You so totally remember.” Your finger raised accusingly and she glanced at it with a quirked eyebrow, her large red hexagon framed glasses almost blocking her amused expression. “Cindy what did he buy?”
You assumed she was going to make another excuse to not answer you directly but the universe, in all it’s twisted ways, actually offered a real one in the form of one of the senior volunteers calling for her attention and waving at you before urgently fanning her over.
“Looks like I’m needed elsewhere.” The air of mischief surrounding her had intensified as your own lighthearted annoyance followed suit and you rolled your eyes as she glanced back out into the field. “You’ve got better company incoming anyways.”
She was gone just in time for Jay to reach the two of you and he watched her back for a few seconds as she strolled away, a silent question floating around his furrowed eyebrows as if he was worried he was the reason she’d left so suddenly.
Your friend typically had an anxious energy surrounding him but it bothered you more so right now so you cleared your throat to get his attention and smiled when he finally gave it, patting the spot Cindy had just left empty and not scooting over when he jumped into a start and walked around the table to sit next to you.
“I heard you’ve met Cindy.” You nudged him with your elbow and he titled his head to grin at you in the most genuine way you’d seen from him in all your years of companionship, eyes squinting against the sun as it slowly set with a certain lightness you quite enjoyed. You figured the hard work had made him too tired to keep his guard as high as usual and you briefly considered asking the volunteers to give him more logs to move.
“She’s a character.” He took a second to form the sentence and it came out in slow patches like he was trying to find the nicest word to describe her eccentric ways. Your mouth was opening to inform him it was okay to be offput by her before he was talking again. “She reminds me of you actually.”
That shut you up and you felt a sudden unnecessary guilt for not immediately knowing if he was complimenting you or doing the opposite.
You hadn’t even noticed you were leaning against him again until he stiffened up at your unusual reaction, an apologetic look on his face making you feel even worse. It was beginning to frustrate you that you couldn’t stop embarrassing yourself in front of him, the ability beyond foreign and not something you’d ever even considered before.
His hand was cold when you reached out to place yours over it, not exactly holding but just letting your palm rest on top of his knuckles.
“I’m glad actually. I think she’s probably the most interesting person on earth.” You were watching his reaction to both your statement and the touch before forfeiting first and looking past him in the direction she’d gone.
“I doubt that.” He sounded strangely heavy and it was a tone unlike any you’d heard from him, immediately bringing your gaze back to his face in an attempt to decipher it.
Jay remained as stoic as he usually was and you were suddenly glad for the lowered sun, hoping the lack of lighting in the field managed to hide the light dusting of your cheeks.
——
It was almost refreshing to be back in the basement with the rest of your friends, not having any type of embarrassment in the pit of your stomach since Jay currently wasn’t here and for the first time in two weeks you weren’t having to overthink why you were feeling so weird.
Even though the other boys were trying their best to make you as awkward as possible, all staring at you with questioning eyes after Jungwon asked how it’d been volunteering this year.
“It’s fine.” You knew as soon as you gave a vauge answer that they were going to get suspicious, your eyes slowly closing in regret as they got an excited buzz to them and immediately hounded in on you like a pack of dogs (or over enthusiastic kittens).
“This is the first time since we were preteens you’ve talked about the fair and not went on for hours.” Even Sunghoon was being unusually perceptive and leaning forward on the edge of his arm chair.
“Can you guys not be super annoying about this?” You winced as you said it, already prepared for how rowdy they’d get at the admittance that there was something to be annoying about in the first place.
Not even Heeseung was exempt from the almost childlike giddiness they all had now and you rolled your eyes at the way they were all smacking eachother and overlapping sentences of ‘I told you so’ adjacent statements.
Luckily you were saved by the sound of Heeseung’s mom calling your name from the top of the stairs, shouting it a few times to try and outmatch the volume of all the boys talking at once. You managed to hear her exasperated tone beneath it and you left them to their theatrics without another word, finding her standing in the kitchen with the phone in her hand and an impatient look on her face.
You glanced at her apologetic before taking the phone from her and waiting until she was back at the table doing her crosswords before you actually put it up to your ear.
“Hello?” You knew it wasn’t likely to be your own mother calling about your whereabouts considering she ever rarely actually did, trusting you and knowing you were an adult who didn’t need checking in when you were usually only ever at a handful of places.
“Y/N?” Jays voice coming through the speaker was enough to make your stomach form a tight knot, not even fully processing the breathy and shaky way he was speaking before understanding something was wrong.
“Where are you?” You weren’t sure why it was the first thing you thought to ask him and he took a few painful seconds to even answer, your hand tugging at the chord connected to the wall anxiously as you waiting for his voice to come back and let you know he was still on the other end.
He was hushed when he muttered the address too and you felt little to no guilt about rushing out of the house without saying goodbye to the boys, formality and patience totally fleeing your mind as you picked up your bike off the side of the house and took off down Heeseung’s long smooth drive away.
Your thighs were burning as you made your way across town to the rundown area Jay had given an address for, heart racing in a similar pace to the buzzing in your ears that had started as soon as you were hanging up the phone.
The sun was setting now and you knew it was only a matter of time before your mother started to wonder why you were gone far past dinner but you couldn’t even begin to think about that or your friends realizing you weren’t coming back down or Cindy checking her jeweled watch when you didn’t show up for your usual hot donut before volunteering.
Nothing else was currently even a drop more important than Jay and the way he rushed out the address, one you didn’t even need an explanation for to understand what it was. The hesitance in the delivery told you exactly where you were heading and that was only part of the reason you felt sick as you rounded the corner sharply into the barren seeming neighborhood.
The houses with boarded windows and bright red ripped notices on the doors would’ve led you to assume the place was abandoned if it wasn’t for the mass of bright lights coming from the house on the end of the street.
You forfeited your bike in the middle of the road in exchange for running and you skidded to a stop when you realized you’d managed to completely sprint past Jay, not noticing him considering the way he was practically hunched in on himself and missing his usual stoic expression as he stood under a large overgrown tree.
Instead his face was an eerie combination of absent and horrified, gaze meeting your wide eyes but leaving you with the terrible feeling he was looking straight through you.
“What happened?” Your voice seemed to echo and his face was red and blue from the lights behind your tensed shoulders, your hands being painted with the same shades when you were reaching up to cup his cold cheeks.
He had the scarf you’d made for him around his neck and your heart ached at the idea he might’ve been on his way to meet up with you before whatever had occurred did. Your thumb brushed over its bumpy fabric when it smoothed over his skin and he practically leaned into it despite your friend’s usual disinterest towards physical touch.
“Can we go somewhere else?” It took you a few breaths to even realize he’d been the one to speak and you nodded instinctively, staying frozen even when he stood up and by default placed himself directly infront of you.
Your boot bumped against his shoe when you went to take a step back and he quickly looked away from the house and continuously flashing sirens.
You were wondering if it was a good idea to leave or if he still was needed by the officers scattered throughout the yard and near the patrol cars, sparing them a glance over your shoulder as you started to follow him. You didn’t meet any of their eyes enough to understand what you should do but there was no way you were going to leave Jay alone so you sighed and followed after him.
He was leading you around the back of the house where you could see a tilted garage and a bunch of shrubbery, almost enough to be completely hiding the car underneath it all.
Jay didn’t look at you once as he started to pull twigs and piles of bushes off the hood and windshield, failing to realize the way you were hugging yourself now to fend off the cold and anxiously peering back around the side of the house as you waited for somebody to come and try to stop you from leaving. Nobody came and eventually he was stopping to take a harsh breath before opening the door and looking at you expectantly.
Despite your nerves, you still followed suit and climbed into the old car. The air was stuffy and you could almost taste how long it’d been since it was put to any use especially obvious with all of the dust lining the dashboard and creating a fine film over the cup holders and stick shift that Jay was wrapping his hand around without a second thought.
“I didn’t know you had a car.” Your voice was filling the car only after you’d been driving in silence for a good fifteen minutes, leaving the town limit a few blocks ago and entering a long stretch of road you’d never been down before.
It was true considering there had been over a few dozen times everybody had complained about the lack of cars in the group, instances where you’d had to cancel plans because it just wasn’t manageable with your bikes. Even Heeseung didn’t have a license even though his mom was always telling him he’d have access to the family van sitting in the garage if he just took the road test.
You didn’t miss the fact that there was a lot you didn’t know about Jay, clearly more than you even realized considering how confused you were tonight by all the missing pieces.
“It was my dad’s.” He was finally glancing over at you but his tone of voice let you know this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about further, nodding your head in understanding and watching him as the trees grew larger around you and the road twisted and turned.
“Are you feeling okay?” You didn’t really know what to ask him considering how little you knew about the situation but he was still nodding slowly and it looked genuine from what you could tell.
You decided it was best to just stay silence so you didn’t accidentally say the wrong thing and Jay took a deep breath before doing the same thing, neither one of you speaking for the next thirty minutes as he drove and stared ahead at the road.
You opted for looking out the window at the large stretches of land and water, roads now slick and shiny with the rain that had been falling during your drive and making the night even more gloomy than it already was. You hoped your mom had seen the weather and assumed you were staying with a friend tonight instead of riding your bike home, your stomach turning a bit at the idea of her calling around to try to make sure you were safe.
Heeseung or one of the other boys knew to cover for you if she called his phone, repeating the practiced line that you had fallen asleep on the couch and forgotten to check in with her beforehand.
But then the worry would land with them and that thought made you frown too.
You weren’t yet regretting following Jay but you hoped you’d get to where you were going soon, suddenly wondering if he even had a destination in mind or if he was just going to keep driving forever and ever.
It didn’t take long to get your answer considering he was pulling into an empty parking lot sitting above a small hill that led down to what you assumed was a dark beach, a cold chill from the water filling the car once he turned it off and the low rattle of the engine disappeared.
He was just sitting there in the drivers seat with a faraway look on his face, picking mindlessly on the callouses covering his hands like he always did.
You were suddenly remembering what was the cause of the lump in your coat pocket, sitting up a bit and reaching your hand inside until it wrapped around the soft fabric you’d been molding for the past two weeks.
Jay was already watching you curiously and his eyes flickered up to yours when he realized what he was you were now holding and presenting out to him across the center console, a hopeful look on your face as you nudged it in his direction.
“You made these?” His question had an obvious answer but you had a feeling he just wanted to hear you say it.
“They match your scarf.” You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal even though you’d gone through an entire roll of fluffy yarn to make the small pair of gloves, messing up the instructions from your old crocheting book numerous times before you finally got them to a functional point.
Your heart was filling with pride when he was pulling them on and flexing his finger inside, seemingly fitting thankfully considering all you had to go off of for sizing was the amount of time you’ve stared at his hands playing guitar.
“They’re perfect.” He looked so sincere and thankful that it threw you for a few seconds, your eyes widening as you nodded your head and smiled at him shyly. “Thank you seriously.”
“It’s no problem. Did you want to get out?” The intensity suddenly filling the air was making your cheeks flush and you wanted nothing more than to be out of the old car, even if it met facing the cold chill waiting for you outside.
He seemed like he was considering it for a few seconds before he was opening his door and stepping out, making his way over to your side before you could process how fast he left and you faltered when he was opening your door for you.
Thankfully he didn’t seem to take your delayed reaction to heart and you were scrambling out before another awkward second passed by, feeling even more grateful when he was unexpectedly bending his arm and letting you wrap your hands around it like you would at the fair.
It brought a level of comfort to you that you hadn’t begun to understand fully but you welcomed it all the same, walking closely to him as you left the parking lot and the hard concrete under your feet turned into wet feeling sand that slowed your pace down automatically.
The beach was fogged over from the cold weather and you could barely see the water due to the darkness now completely surrounding you, relying solely on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore to let you know you were getting too close.
You and Jay walked in silence like that for a few minutes, alongside the water but far enough that it was only barely touching the sides of your boots whenever the waves rolled over and spread out into the sand.
He was eventually pausing in his stride and you glanced at the side of his face expectantly, seeing that same blank look he had when sitting in the car and feeling your heart tighten with the urge to help him any way you could. You weren’t even sure where to begin but it felt right to slowly sit down onto the sand, holding his arm loose enough that he could feel you moving before you tugged him down too.
You smiled a bit when he sat quickly beside you and you warmed even though the floor was cold and damp underneath you.
You decided to keep holding onto his arm even though you weren’t walking anymore and that left you practically hugging his side while you sat facing him with his own gaze towards the water, your legs pressed up against his and his glove covered hands crossed over his stomach cautiously.
There’d been dozen of instances where you had to sit in close proximity to Jay but never once had you experienced one where you were having to silently tell your heart to calm itself incase he could feel it beating out of control.
“Are you alright?” You couldn’t physically take the silence in the air anymore and he looked at you as you spoke.
His gaze was heavy but as kind as it always was when situated on, a tiredness to him that you weren’t used to seeing. You squeezed his arm and they softened even further while his head tilt to the side at your affectionate gesture.
“I’m sorry I took you all the way out here. I wasn’t really sure where else to go so I just drove.” He was quiet as he spoke and you almost didn’t hear him over the crashing waves.
You suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for being so skeptical about following him into the car and allowing him to leave the limits of your town.
“I don’t mind, it’s a beautiful place.” You heard the irony of the statement at the same time amusement passed over his face, both of you knowing it was far too dark for you to visually appreciate the beach. “It’s cool you can drive.”
He actually did laugh at that, a light one closer resembling a scoff but it seemed genuine nonetheless. You didn’t expect an explanation for him keeping his ability a secret and he didn’t offer one.
You fell into another lapse of silence but you found more comfort than awkwardness in this one, enjoying the closeness of the moment and trying to put yourself into his mind for a second.
Jay was all you could see with how low the light was, just the side view of his face that you’d been accustomed to for such a large part of your life that it was almost odd to be feeling so overwhelmed by the sight of him. It definitely wasn’t the time to be trying to understand why you had been feeling so off kilter around him these days but you knew the clock was clicking for you to figure it out.
His jaw was tense like it got whenever the boys got too rowdy in public or the times in high school when people would whisper in the halls as your small group passed.
It wasn’t a secret that Jay had a certain protective nature surrounding him but your silent friend had never looked as bothered as he did right now.
You were wrestling with yourself in your own mind and trying to shake the idea that he was possibly uncomfortable with your sudden clinginess. You had a reminder on a constant loop that he was the one who initiated the small contact almost everytime and his cheeks flushed red almost as much as yours did whenever you squeezed his arm in yours.
“My mom got arrested.” His voice was cutting off your rampant irrelevant thoughts and your mouth parted slightly in surprise from the sudden admission, immediately snapping shut when you noticed him watching you from the side of eye.
“Jay.” You went to speak words of comfort but his lips pursed and his eyes shut for a second like he was pained so you swallowed your sentence and waited for him.
“It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time or the last.” He was beginning to rush through the words like he didn’t think he could manage to get them all out and you watched him carefully, forgetting the cold weather and the wetness coating the fabric of your pants. “I called you because I knew seeing you would make me feel better but I don’t really need to talk about it or anything.”
“Then we don’t have to talk about it.” Your voice was firmer than usual and his shoulders relaxed.
You weren’t even thinking when your hand was reaching up to touch his face, turning his head towards your direction so he didn’t really have a choice but to look at you.
Your hands were undoubtedly freezing against his skin but you still took the opportunity to absentmindedly rub your thumb against his cheek and jaw, observing the way he almost melted into the touch with something close to pain in his expression.
This was nothing like the arm holding or the hands brushing when you passed him a paintbrush, crossing over the line of things you could fit in the category of your newly developed friendship without the connection of the group. This was something else entirely and you chose not to place it anywhere for now, letting it exist here on the beach without the weight in your chest following along.
“Did it make you feel better?” Your voice was almost a whisper but you had no doubt he heard you considering how close your faces had gotten now that you made him look at you fully. “Seeing me?”
You knew the answer already when you asked it but you still weren’t prepared for the way he softly nodded while leaning into your touch further, eyes big and puppy like in direct contrast to his usual stern and more feline gaze. Vulnerability had completely taken over his typical stoic attitude and you felt a surge of pride for getting to see him like this.
Jay had been consuming your thoughts since you started hanging out one on one and it felt far too important of a moment to let pass you by.
You barely had to shift yourself forward to be able to kiss him but the slightest sign of you moving spurred him to close the gap instead, pushing his lips against yours and taking you by surprise.
The beach was almost quieter as the two of you kissed softly, the waves sounding like they were further away since all you could focus on was the warmth radiating off of him. You were flushed from how delicate he was with you and how it lacked any real heat considering it was much more of a romantic kiss than you both trying to turn the other on.
He kept his eyes closed when you pulled away from eachother and you rested your forehead against his, watching his expressions closely and not wanting to lean back incase the lack of touch made him reconsider what had happened.
You’d be stupid to not understand Jay had always had a soft spot for you but just because the boys teased him about it didn’t mean he actually felt like you were somebody special. He was a gentleman in all aspects of his interactions so you weren’t certain enough to bet on the fact he had any type of feelings for you that would make him see this kiss the way you did.
“Please don’t regret this tomorrow.” He said it in one quick whisper and your heart twisted at the same time your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I won’t, of course I won’t.” You hoped your voice was firm enough to make him believe you but you could tell by the look on his face that he was still skeptical.
You didn’t know how else to prove it to him besides kissing him again so that’s exactly what you did, hands cupping his face and pulling him into you much more passionately than you had the first time. This go around there was a lot more movement and a soft noise escaped you when you felt his gloved hand on your knee.
It was hard to connect the fact the Jay you were kissing was the same Jay you’ve known almost your entire life. He was the same boy who used to scowl on the swings at the playground and silently pay for your snacks at lunch or hold the door for you when entering Heeseung’s house.
You were almost reverting back through all your platonic memories with him as you kissed and seeing him in a different light than you had before.
This time when you stopped kissing you fully leaned into him until you were practically hugging without having your arms around each other, the sudden longing to just feel him close overwhelming you as you tried to pretend it was simply because of the cold and not because he opened up apart of himself to you tonight and that seemed to be the final piece you needed to understand how you felt.
“We should go, you’re going to catch a cold.” He was speaking again in a far away voice and you would’ve declined and asked for just a few more minutes but he was already standing up.
You suddenly felt the most distant you had in a long time from him and your throat was tightened even when he offered his arm in your direction, the action coming across more robotic now than him actually reaching out for you.
It was hard to not overthink considering he was driving you both home in silence, the hills and forest of the town coming into sight as you left behind the empty stretches of road and sky above the ocean.
For once you found yourself looking out the window with longing as you passed the welcome sign back into where you’d grown up, finally slightly understanding why most people had a hard time coming home after being somewhere else for a change.
You didn’t stop thinking about the beach or the road leading even further away until he was pulling into your driveway, the car making a funny scraping sound as it pushed itself up the slight incline.
Jay sighed softly, the first noise he’d made in a long time that wasn’t covered by the radio commercials and the heat running on high with that loud rattling noise, shutting the car off completely as you both sat there in silence.
“Are you able to go home? If you need somewhere to stay I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind as long as you stayed on the couch.” You were speaking swiftly with your eyes slightly widened and he smiled at you gently even if it didn’t quite seem genuine.
“I’m alright, I’ll figure it out.” His tone held a stubborn finality that you didn’t bother trying to question again even though it hurt your heart to think about him searching for a place to stay.
You almost begged him to just come in and warm up for a bit, maybe use your phone to call some of the boys and ask them if he could go there before he just started to drive around in circles but you decided against it.
Instead you leaned far enough that the middle console was pressing against your stomach and you kissed him softly on his cheek, rubbing the clumpy fabric of his scarf before sitting back in your seat and smiling shakily as you tugged the door open and stepped back out into the cold.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your head cocked so he understood it was a question you wanted answered and he took a few moments before he was nodding his head and starting the car again, lifting his hand off the steering wheel for a brief second in a wave as you closed the door.
——
Jay didn’t show up the next day but you still stood at the end of your driveway with your bike in your hands for twenty minutes, shifting from the cold and slight embarrassment even though nobody was around to see you left hanging.
You filled your mind with the calming thought that he was just busy and he’d show up any minute panting from rushing over here, or maybe he’d even bring his new car and you wouldn’t have to ride your bikes in the cold anymore.
You’d have a good day setting up the fair and you wouldn’t have any awkward silences about the kiss, infact maybe you’d even kiss again when he dropped you back off at home later.
The thoughts and daydreams only entertained you until half an hour had passed and now you’d officially be late so you had no choice but to flip up your kick stand with your foot and mount your bike with a deep frown.
Even then you still felt guilty about leaving incase Jay showed up late at your house and found out you had left without him.
The rational part of you knew that wasn’t going to happen and if anything he could come to the fair and just meet you there but you could tell from the first hour that he wasn’t going to and he wasn’t anywhere waiting for you to come back. He simply hadn’t shown up and you were beyond stupid for thinking otherwise all morning.
It actually hadn’t even crossed your mind that he wasn’t going to show up.
You ran through the possible scenarios, coped with the inevitable tension in the air and the chance of an extremely awkward conversation where you had to confess your newfound feelings for him.
You’d even practiced over how you were going to say it all morning as you got dressed down to the last word but not once did you think he would simply leave you there alone like a completely fool.
Jay was a lot of things, he was reserved and shut off and maybe a little bit blunt at times but he was certainly never cruel and especially not to you. Your friends seemed to agree considering how appalled they were when you stomped down the steps with wet leaves wrapped around your boots and frowned as you explained what had happened.
“Wait you kissed? You like Jay?” Heeseung seemed utterly confused and you couldn’t tell if he was playing up the surprise or if he genuinely wasn’t paying attention to the obvious signs.
“Dude have you even been here? That’s not the problem, what do you mean he didn’t show up?” Sunghoon was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his face in distress.
“I shouldn’t have kissed him without asking how he felt about me first.” You ignored his question and shook your head as you slouched back into the couch, more upset with your self now than anything else.
All the boys looked around at each other in shock and the air got heavy again like it always seemed to whenever the topic of you and Jay came up. Your eyebrows furrowed into a glare and you settled it onto Jungwon who looked the most guilty, hoping he’d spill whatever it was that they weren’t saying to you.
“Jay is totally into you.” He was letting it out in one breath of air and the other boys collectively rolled their eyes and swatted at your friend. “He has been forever and we all totally make his life hell because of it.”
“Why on earth would you guys do that?” You were practically yelling now even though it was hard to stay mad at them when they all looked so guilty. “Just a few weeks ago you were trying to get me to ask out Jake Sim.”
“We were trying to get him to finally grow a pair and make a move.” Heeseung made you groan at the crude wording but despite your annoyance you actually understood the ways they were trying to help especially since it had actually worked up until you screwed it up by kissing him.
You relayed this thought to them and they looked just as stricken by the fact Jay had not followed up after your kiss as they did the first time you said it.
They did their best to cheer you up with covers of your favorites songs and less argument filled board game rounds but you couldn’t stop the hole in your heart from deepening everytime you thought about it. Your anger towards yourself slowly transferred to him instead as the night went on but even that felt wrong.
Opening night of the fair was finally happening tomorrow and you could barely feel the usual excitement, even when all the boys told you they would be coming to keep you company.
You gave them a soft smile before bidding them goodnight and you truly did appreciate what they were trying to do but it wasn’t the outcome you wanted.
That still didn’t stop you from waking up early the next morning and getting yourself ready, pinning your stray hairs back with cheap pumpkin decorated pins you’d had for a decade and pulling on the new pair of gloves you made (finished off with much neater edges than Jays had been).
The others were going to arrive any moment to accompany you so you sat on the couch finishing your hot chocolate and tapping your feet against the carpet with anticipation, doing all you could to ignore the pit in your stomach so you could still have fun and appreciate all the hard work you and the other volunteers had contributed.
Rough honking from outside made your head pick up expectantly and you set your mug on the coffee table before rushing to the window and smiling brightly when you saw all of your friends waving from inside an old car you didn’t recognize.
It wasn’t until you opened the door that you caught sight of the driver and you faltered a bit, long enough that he had stepped out onto your driveway and waved at you with a sheepish expression.
“Hey Y/N, hope it’s okay that I tag along.” Jake Sim was standing infront of your house and he apparently was one of the few people your age in town that owned a car and even worse, your friends were giving you encouraging looks behind his back.
Heeseung lost his thumbs up when you glared at him through the windshield but you made sure to smile at Jake reassuringly.
“Of course it’s okay Jake, it’s good to see you.” You tugged open the passenger seat door and tugged at Heeseung’s hoodie until he was groaning and unbuckling, squeezing into the backseat with the others and allowing you to be in the front.
You let the boys talk loudly and play their music while you sat in silence during the short drive to the field where the fair was being held, finding it harder to ignore the fact somebody was missing when all you could think about what your drive back from the beach.
Jake quietly humming wasn’t enough for you to forget how Jay kept a tight grip on the steering wheel or shifted in his seat at a red light.
The comparison of the two definitely wasn’t fair especially since you were almost positive your friends had begged Jake to give you all a ride under some faux promise that you would find it kind enough to give him a shot. He was always nice to you in school and definitely wasn’t trying anything sleazy now, instead arguing with Jungwon about the speed limits and his backseat driving.
Your heart warmed the second you were approaching the field and you could see the Ferris wheel peaking over the trees, car slowing down to allow the groups of people and large families to cross the street in front of you.
The turn out was probably the biggest you’d seen yet and even your friends were making noises of excitement as they peered out the windows and took in the rows of games and smaller kiddy rides.
“Woah this is awesome.” Jake sounded genuinely amazed from beside you and you glanced back over your shoulder to smile at him. “You guys did a great job.”
You knew he must’ve been referring to the larger group of people who volunteered but you still couldn’t help but think of all the work Jay helped do and how much he contributed this year.
“Thank you Jake.”
——
It was almost like a homecoming as you walked across the field and let the mud build up under your boots, a caramel apple in hand and the other wrapped around Heeseung as he laughed and tried his best to win your group another stuffed animal despite the fact the three boys behind you were holding two each.
“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help but be impressed when he knocked all the pins down again even though you quickly covered your mouth apologetically when the mother of a child near you sent you a sharp glare.
“Here you go madam.” He’d put on a funny proper voice as he handed you the small pink stuffed lamb and you mockingly curtsied at him as he squinted his eyes against the sun and surveyed the area. “Alright going to go attempt to brave the portapotties, wish me luck.”
“Hold your breath.” Jungwon was quick to chirp behind you and you groaned at the imagery, pulling your arm out of Heeseung’s so he could half jog over to the bathrooms and feeling a slight chill run over you at the loss of body heat.
Somebody was clearing their throat from beside you and your eyes widened a bit as you turned to see Jake standing there now, a sheepish expression on his face with his elbow angled at you invitingly. He must’ve picked up on your walking habit by now and you smiled bashfully at him before accepting his arm.
“Are you having a good time?” You started walking together as you spoke quietly, your two friends behind you talking loudly in weird voices as if they were making their animal prizes communicate.
“It’s beautiful.” He actually sounded like he meant it, tone a little breathy as he turned his gaze to the Ferris wheel and nodded appreciably. “I understand why you love it so much.”
You were actually enjoying his company despite the ache in your chest and you were glad he got to tag along with all of you, hoping you’d get the chance to see him with the boys more often including the one you were missing the most right now.
It’d been a few hours into the fair and you knew Jay could come another day by himself if he really wanted to but the thought of him missing opening day and feeling how special it was hit you harder than you wished it would and you were almost antsy for your friends to leave so you could go and mope to Cindy and ask her for some advice.
“Look who I ran into.” Heeseung sounded excited from behind you as he returned from the bathrooms and your eyebrows raised curiously, turning in unison with Jake.
Your mouth dropped open a bit when you saw Jay standing there awkwardly, hands in his pockets and a torn expression on his face that turned into one of confusion when he realized you were linking arms with Jake Sim. He didn’t say anything and neither did the others boys, not at all matching Heeseung’s enthusiasm and instead sending you glances like they weren’t sure what reaction was appropriate.
To make matters worse, Jake clearly wasn’t reading the energy and instead was nudging your side affectionately and giving Jay a wide smile.
“And you thought he wasn’t going to show up.” He didn’t know the history behind the two of you or anything that had happened so you couldn’t really fault him for his embarrassing comment, realizing now he must’ve caught wind of some of the things the boys had said about you not expecting Jay.
The comment was enough to break the tension in the air for something much worse and you watched the boy in question purse his lips and nod his head in bitter understanding, pulling a hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck.
“Well this was nice but I’ve gotta go.” He didn’t wait for anybody to say any words of parting and instead he was turning on his heels and leaving.
You scoffed and removed your arm from Jakes gently, stomping away from them to follow behind Jay and trying to ignore the clueless boys confused questioning to your friends about what he had said wrong.
“You’re just going to leave?” You waited until you were closer to the barns to speak even though you were pretty sure he knew you’d been following him. “You don’t have anything you feel like you want to say to me?”
He looked surprisingly calm when he turned around to face you but your anger didn’t settle much even when you saw the hurt and lost expression he had, staring down at you and all of your fury like he thought he deserved it.
“What is there for me to say?” His voice was low and you frowned again at how defeated he seemed, how easy it was for him to end the conversation even though you felt like there was a thousand things being left unsaid. “I don’t want to interrupt your time with Jake.”
You let out a noise that was close to a laugh but without any sign of amusement, anger taking over any type of sadness or confusion you felt about the situation. He wasn’t saying it like he was at all angry at you for being around Jake but that almost made you more upset, seeing how simple it seemed for him to just walk away with no explanation.
“By my time with Jake do you mean the time I’m spending waiting for you to show up knowing you wouldn’t?” Your voice cracked a little as you took a step closer to him. “And when you finally do you’re just going to leave? I mean did the night on the beach just mean nothing to you?”
“The night on the beach?” He was now starting to show a little emotion outside of the almost cowardly demeanor he’d had, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you now that you were closer. “The night you pity kissed me?”
It was almost hard to believe he’d say something like that and even harder to comprehend that he genuinely meant it, he wasn’t attempting to hurt you or being unnecessarily cruel like most people would but instead he actually was going off the notion you’d kissed him out of sympathy.
“How could you think that way?” You tried to soften your tone but you were just so upset about everything and even more so now that the fairs opening day was passing you by and going so poorly.
Jay was just looking at you and you were almost worried he was going to start crying, the pained look not going away even when you were closing the gaps between the two of you and bringing your hand up to his cheek. He leaned into it when your thumb rubbed against his skin again but he didn’t answer your question.
You could feel his hand on your lower back like he was afraid you’d back away prematurely but you had no plans to go anywhere despite being upset with him, you could see how hurt and confused he was and that trumped your own feelings that could be dealt with afterwards.
He had been a constant in your life for as long as you could understand the notion of having a friend but you felt like you were just now seeing him for the first time ever and you were almost embarrassed that you didn’t know how to help him especially since he always seemed to know what to say to you when you were upset.
“You have no idea what you are to me.” He’d lost the helplessness in his voice now that you were touching him and the pained tone was more stemming from your closeness than anything else.
There was nothing you could say to that that would properly convey how you felt about the hushed reassured confession so instead you kissed him.
He was immediate in the way he put his other hand on your back too and pulled you closer to him, turning your head and relishing in how different it felt to kiss him standing up.
Jay made a low noise when your hands moved from his face to his hair and you wanted nothing more than to pull another from him, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip seemingly doing the trick as you felt his hands squeeze your waist instinctively.
You pulled away from the kiss to try and breathe but he was immediately following after your lips and connecting them again which made you decide you didn’t at all mind continuing even if it meant replacing air with the feeling of him against you.
You didn’t even realize you were moving until your feet with tripping over his and your back was hitting what you assumed was the barn, a small laugh leaving your lips even though it was muffled by his moving against you feverishly. Jay was kissing you like he’d never get to do it again but by now you’d caught on to the fact he’d thought about this alot longer than you had.
His hand was leaving your back to stop at your knee, pulling it to the side easily so he could slot his own in between yours and press impossibly closer.
“God you’re everything.” He was breathing heavily as he spoke and you whined a bit at how low his voice had gotten, sounding similar to how it did when he’d get focused on one of their songs or scold the boys for messing around too much.
“Can you stay with me here?” Your own came out surprisingly squeakish and you flushed in embarrassment.
He was nodding softly and your hand left his hair to sit on the back of his neck for a second before you were kissing him one more time quickly, smiling a little when he took a step back after and grabbed your free hand so you’d stumble forward with him.
“I’m sorry I was late.” He said it so casually like you were just two regular people going out and he was a little tardy for a date but you figured you could talk about how the situation hurt you later and try to enjoy the rest of the day.
You were leading him back towards your friends but dropping his hand as you approached, not fully sure you wanted to deal with their teasing and quick comments. Jay was easily understanding what you were implying and he fell back into his silent nature, giving them quick head nods when they expressed excitement over him joining you.
It was beginning to look just like your regular hangouts until you all agreed to head towards the ferris wheel and suddenly Jake was turning towards you with a shy smile and his arm bent in your direction.
You couldn’t fault him for assuming you’d want to continue linking arms now that you were back but your heart clenched for a second knowing who was standing right behind you.
Jay was such a quiet and stoic person that you didn’t necessarily think he’d sit there throwing glares at any guy who tried to speak to you but you were either extremely wrong or the energy of the day had gotten to him because you could feel his arm snaking around your waist just as you turned to see the annoyed expression he had and the harsh way he was watching Jake.
All discreetness was thrown out the window at that and you watched the boy across from you purse his lips in bitter understanding before slowly pulling his arm back against his side.
“Don’t be rude.” You were whispering the scolding words in Jay’s ear but leaning against his side so he knew you were okay with the show of affection even if it had started as possessiveness.
He didn’t say anything in his typical fashion and you tried to ignore how giddy the thought of him being jealous made you. You stayed close to him as you waited in line, listening to your friends joke around as you felt his hand squeezing your side impatiently every few minutes.
It was a no brainer that you’d be sitting next to him when an empty carts started to make their way around the wheel and you smiled softly at Heeseung and Jungwon fighting over who got to sit with Jake, pushing them slightly when the working attendant started to look extra impatient.
Jay glanced at you from the side of his eye before putting a hand forward to signal you to get on first, following behind as you scooted across the metal bench and watched him close the door tightly.
“Are you scared of heights?” Your voice was teasing as you leaned against his side to looked closely at the nervous look on his face. He glared at you lightheartedly and when his eyes didn’t leave your face for a few seconds you realized he was going to kiss you right as he did.
His big hand was cupping your cheek to pull you in closer and the feeling of him moving against you was enough to override the embarrassment of kissing before the ride had even moved you out of view from the crowd.
You practically kissed the entire time your cart slightly jerked forward to allow new people onto the ones under you, slowly lifting you higher and higher as your heart raced.
Kissing Jay was a completely foreign feeling but you felt like you couldn’t stop now that you knew what it was like, finding the low noises your friend made absolutely addicting to the point they were overriding your system and everything you’ve ever thought about him. You never once considered what he would feel like this close to you or how he’d look when you pulled apart to breathe, dark eyes low and hazy and his lip reddening.
“Is this what you expected when you offered to help me paint stables?” You were grinning as you spoke and he brushed some of your hair behind your ear.
“Not necessarily but a guy can dream.” He surprised you by joking back and the ride jolted alive suddenly, both of you lurching forward for a second before dissolving in a fit of laughter.
From the top of the ferris wheel you could not only see the fair and all of the work you’d put into it but you could see a large part of your small town, the gravel roads you struggled with your bike on everyday to Heeseung’s and the railroad tracks that led to the side of town you’d found Jay on the night he called you.
Off in the distance you could even make out the long stretch of road where the trees broke away and the sea inevitably began.
Jay was softly calling for your attention once your cart stopped at the very top of the ride, your hair blowing in the light wind as you turned to face him. The sun had nearly set now and he looked particularly handsome when he was lit up by the lights adorning the metal beams under you, that nervous look returning as he shifted his body to face you.
He almost looked as if he was planning to tell you something, maybe even make a speech of some sort but instead he was closing his mouth and reaching into his coat pocket to pass you a small box.
You took it from his glove covered hands and glanced up at him with wide eyes, already having a relatively good idea about what was inside the box. He raised an eyebrow at you as a way to urge you opening it and you quickly untied the soft ribbon keeping it closed, both of you keeping quiet like you were scared to ruin the moment.
Inside, surrounded by shredded wrapping paper to keep it safe, was a beautiful handmade necklace with a golden seashell at the end of the thin chain. You knew right away who had made the piece of jewelry and your eyes filled up with tears as you looked at him.
“Sorry I’m not as crafty as you but I figured I knew somebody who was.” He was trying to joke around to soften the heavy atmosphere but you could see the hesitation on his face as he waited for you to say something. “It’s the right one right? You kept looking at it the first day you brought me here.”
“It’s perfect.” Your voice was breathy and it came out as one word but you knew he understood, his shoulders losing some tension as he shifted closer to you and took the necklace from your shaky hands.
You sniffed a little bit and turned around so you could lift your hair and assist him in putting the necklace on you, getting a full view of the town around you as you did so and barely even noticing the fact the ferris wheel was beginning to move again.
All you could focus on was his cold hands on your neck and the weight of the seashell as it softly fell down in the middle of your collarbones, your heart thumping so hard you worried it woukd shift it from its place.
His apprehension was still obvious when you turned back around to show him how it looked on you but his eyes lit up at the sight of it, meeting your gaze just in time for you to lean in and kiss him again.
#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen smut#enhypen au#jay enhypen#jay fluff#jay au#jay angst#enhypen jay#jay x reader#jay smut#jay fanfic#heeseung enhypen#enhypen jake#jungwon enhypen#enhypen fanfic
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Baby On Board...Again
SUMMARY | Jaehyun wants to be a dad again.
PAIRINGS | Jaehyun x Reader
GENRE | dad!Jaehyun, mom!Reader, dilf!Jaehyun, milf!Reader, established relationship, smut, fluff,
CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (female giving/male receiving), praise kink, pet names, daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy kink, couch sex, multiple positions
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
LENGTH | 6,440 words
TAGLIST | @luv4jeno
NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi. Hello again. At this point, Jaehyun should be my bias with the amount of content I write about him. LOL. Anywho, you don't have to read them, but if you did, I mentioned Kun's triplets and Xiaojun's little son. Anyway, here's to Dad Jaehyun! Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚
"Mommy! Mommy!"
You let out a groan and buried your head in the pillows. Your little son is already running a muck, screaming the house down. You could hear him stomping up and down the corridor, but he's not coming into the room. Not yet, at least. But he sounds pretty eager and excited so no doubt that in the next few moments, he's gonna burst in.
"Mommmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Daaaaaaddddddyyyyyyyy!"
You tried to bury yourself further in your blankets. Hoping they would swallow you and leave you to peacefully go back to bed. You reached out and smacked your husband's sleeping back. "Go get the brat."
Jaehyun snorted and rolled over. "He's your brat."
"You made the brat, you deal with him," you grunted.
"You were there too, honey. It takes two."
"Jae-" Your words got cut off as you heard your son bang against your bedroom door and throw it open. The first thing your eyes landed on when you lifted your head to peek was your son's bright, joyful, excited smile. Jaewoo, ran into your room, jumping on the bed. He was giggling and his little arms wrapped around your body as he smooched your cheek.
"Good morning Mommy!" he chirped.
"Morning baby." You kissed his cheek back.
Your son looked over to Jaehyun who was lying still with his eyes closed, trying to ignore him. "Morning Daddy!"
"Daddy is asleep." Jaehyun mumbled.
"Nuh-uh! I saw you smile!" Jaewoo shouted excitedly.
"Nope. Daddy's asleep." He deadpanned, while a smirk stretched across his lips.
"Wake up then!"
"Nooooo."
You laughed and ruffled your son's hair before poking your husband's cheek. "You have to do it eventually, Jae. You know how he is."
Your son giggled and jumped on Jaehyun's back. He sat there and shook his daddy awake, trying to pull off the blanket covering him. You both share a laugh, loving the determination your son has. He's cute when he's eager. "Daaaaaddddyyy!"
"Oof," Jaehyun grunted.
"Wake up Daddy!"
"You heard your child Jae." You teased.
"Waaaake up Daddy!"
"I'm awake! I'm awake!" Jaehyun exclaimed and tickled his sides, making the little boy squeal and kick.
You watched them both, feeling happy and warm. You had your doubts about being a mother. But your husband helped you through it all, and you have never been more thankful for him than when you held your baby for the first time.
"Are we going to the zoo today?" Jaewoo asked excitedly.
"If it's not raining," you answered. "It's supposed to rain."
"Awww," Jaewoo pouted.
Jaehyun poked his stomach. "We can camp out in the living room if it rains. We'll play games, make a tent, and read a lot of books."
Jaewoo's eyes lit up. "And we can make cookies and have popcorn!"
You chuckled and hugged him. "That sounds like a good idea, baby."
"Alright!" Jaewoo exclaimed and climbed off the bed. "I'll get ready!"
He ran out of the room, and you rolled over to face your husband. You leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Let's get up so we can entertain the little man."
"I love you." Jaehyun grinned.
"I love you too." You pecked his nose and kissed the corner of his lip before you pulled away to stand up.
You put on a shirt and went to check the window. The skies looked somewhat clear but you didn't want to take the chance, so you made a mental note to bring an umbrella, ponchos, and anything that would prevent your family from getting sick. You stretched your limbs before heading into the bathroom. Jaehyun joined you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
"We did a good job with him, didn't we?" He muttered, pulling you towards his body. He held onto you tightly, hugging you close and enjoying the sensation of your skin rubbing against his.
"Yes, we did." You breathed and kissed his cheek. "Yes. I can't wait to see how much he grows."
"Me too." Jaehyun kissed your cheek.
After you were showered, dressed, and ready, you and Jaehyun headed down to the kitchen. Your son was sitting at the table, coloring a picture of a lion.
"Whatcha doing, Jaewoo?" Jaehyun asked, ruffling his hair.
"Drawing lions." Jaewoo grinned.
"You'll see real lions later." You told him, kissing his head.
"I want to go now." Jaewoo pouted.
"Breakfast first, bud," Jaehyun replied.
Jaewoo continued drawing and coloring, while you and Jaehyun began making breakfast. You cooked the pancakes while he cut up fruit. The smell of bacon filled the air, and Jaewoo started sniffing and looking around.
"Mmm, something smells good!" He exclaimed and bounced over to you. He put his head on the edge of the counter and gazed longingly at the food.
"Wash your hands first, baby," you reminded him and pointed towards the sink. "And use soap."
"Okay, Moooom!" Jaewoo did as told but ended up splashing a bunch of water on the floor. Jaehyun just laughed.
"He's just as messy as you." He said, drying your child's hands, while you made him his plate. "Want juice?" He asked.
Jaewoo nodded. Jaehyun went to pour his kid a glass while you set down a plate with 2 large pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. "Here, my little man, enjoy."
Jaewoo dug into his breakfast, his mouth full of pancakes and syrup. You and Jaehyun ate a bit slower, enjoying the peace.
After breakfast, you put on your shoes and jackets, and grabbed the bag of snacks. You headed out the door, locking it behind you.
The drive to the zoo was short. Jaewoo was excited to see the animals and he chattered away about them the whole way. When you arrived, he was out of the car and running towards the entrance. You had to quickly chase after him to make sure he didn't get lost.
When you reached the gate, you bought tickets and entered the zoo. Jaewoo's eyes were sparkling with happiness as he skipped through the different exhibits, stopping every few moments to stare and watch some animal move. The three of you walked along the path, admiring the different animals. Jaewoo pointed out his favorites and talked about how he wanted to be a zookeeper when he grew up.
As the day wore on, Jaewoo got more and more tired. He started to drag his feet and complain about being hungry.
"Let's go get some ice cream, okay?" Jaehyun suggested, taking his hand.
"Okay!" Jaewoo said excitedly.
You bought him an ice cream cone, and he sat down to enjoy it. He licked his lips and giggled as the melted ice cream dribbled down his chin.
"So messy," you laughed, wiping his face.
"Sorry Mommy." He smiled sheepishly.
"It's okay. You're just a kid."
After finishing the ice cream, you lead Jaewoo back towards the zoo but your son starts falling asleep. By the time you left the gates, Jaewoo was softly snoring against Jaehyun's back. He settled him carefully inside the car, strapping him into the back seat before Jaehyun started the vehicle and you headed home.
When you pulled into the driveway, you saw that it was starting to rain. You sighed and grabbed the umbrella from the back seat.
"Come on, Jaewoo." You helped him out of the car. "Let's get inside."
You rushed towards the door, holding the umbrella over Jaewoo's head. "Mommy, it's raining!"
"Should we camp out in the living room tonight?" Jaehyun asked, grinning.
"Sure." You replied and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Now let's hurry up. You're going to get drenched."
"Yay, camping!" Jaewoo grinned excitedly and rushed ahead of you to open the door.
"Whoa there," you laughed, pulling him back. "Don't run."
He slowed down and walked inside, his eyes wide and his smile even wider. "We're going to have so much fun, Mommy!"
"We are," you agreed.
You closed the door and set the umbrella aside. You took off your jacket and shoes, and placed the bag of snacks on the table.
"Let's set up the tent," Jaehyun said, Jaewoo yelling that he wanted to help.
"Sure. Just don't break anything." You mutter. Jaehyun began unfolding the tent and setting it up. Jaewoo helped him, and you watched them work together. You got a few extra blankets and pillows, and placed them in the tent.
"All set," you announced.
"Can we have cookies now?" Jaewoo asked hopefully.
"I guess," you chuckled.
You went into the kitchen and started to make the cookies. Jaehyun turned on the tv and put in a movie for Jaewoo.
When the cookies were done, you brought them out to the living room. Jaewoo grabbed a few and retreated to the tent to eat them, watching the movie. You and Jaehyun settle down next to him, snuggle up with a blanket, and start eating cookies too. You share a chocolate chip one together, smiling at each other. It's times like these when you remember why you fell in love with Jaehyun all those years ago. He's a wonderful partner and an incredible dad.
After finishing a few cookies, you and Jaehyun look at your precious son. Jaewoo is snuggling under a blanket while a Disney film plays in the background. Jaewoo fell asleep in the tent, his small snores filling the room.
"This was a good day," you sighed, resting your head on Jaehyun's shoulder.
"Yeah, it was." He smiled, placing a small kiss on your forehead. "Honey, do you want another one? Another baby?"
You thought for a moment, and looked at the sleeping child. Jaewoo was going to grow up and he wouldn't be your baby boy forever. You and Jaehyun created such a beautiful son. There was no doubt he'd continue growing and shining. His existence warmed your heart. He was a good, healthy little boy.
But there was no harm in making another.
"What are you thinking, babe?"
"Let's try for a baby," you breathed with a smile.
"Yeah?" Jaehyun pulled you tighter, pressing another kiss on your head, his hand slidding down to your stomach. "I can't wait until you're big and round with our second child."
You smiled and pulled his head down for a kiss.
"We have to make sure to keep the brat away though," Jaehyun muttered.
You laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. "I'm sure one of the guys would be happy to take him for the weekend."
"I'm sure he'll have fun with any of his uncles and their kids." Jaehyun smiled.
"Right... Kun has been bugging me that we should have Jaewoo over so he and his wife can take him and the triplets to the water park. Taeyong and Doyoung also keep talking about taking Jaewoo camping with some of the other uncles."
"Didn't Xiaojun say that Dongjun has been bugging him about a sleepover?"
You sigh and rub your eyes. Your family was a tight-knit unit of crazy misfits that were your friends. So your son had many, many uncles and a lot of cousins to play with. All of whom were always looking for ways to have your son over.
You both sat in silence, and then you heard a rustle from the tent. You turned to look and saw that Jaewoo had kicked off the blanket and was sprawled across the floor.
"Oh, poor baby." You murmured, tucking him in the blankets. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at you sleepily.
"Mommy," he mumbled.
"Go back to sleep, baby." You stroked his hair.
His eyes closed and he sighed, snuggling deeper into the blankets. You watched him for a moment, smiling. Before you knew it, the three of you fell asleep in the tent, the movie playing quietly in the background.
"You got everything, bud?" Jaehyun asked, checking his overnight bag.
"Yup!" Jaewoo said happily, bouncing on his toes.
You and Jaehyun had decided that a weekend apart would be nice, so Jaehyun was dropping off Jaewoo at Xiaojun's house for a few days. Xiaojun and his wife were more than happy to have Jaewoo over, especially since their son was the same age.
"Are you sure?" Jaehyun double-checked. "Underwear? Toothbrush? Pajamas? A book to read at night? Extra socks?"
"Yes, Daddy." Jaewoo rolled his eyes.
Jaehyun sighed and looked over at you. You chuckled and shook your head. "He's fine, babe."
Jaehyun nodded and smiled. "Alright, let's go."
The three of you walked out to the car, and you helped Jaewoo get buckled into his car seat. Jaehyun climbed into the driver's seat and you took your place beside him. You drove the short distance to Xiaojun's house and parked on the street.
"Are you excited, honey?" You asked Jaewoo.
"Yea!" He cheered.
"Alright, come on." You unbuckled him and the three of you walked up the driveway. Jaehyun knocked on the door and waited.
After a moment, Xiaojun opened the door. "Hey guys!"
"Hi Uncle Xiaojun!" Jaewoo exclaimed, running to him.
Xiaojun laughed and scooped him up. "Hello there, little man."
"Thanks for doing this," you said, smiling.
"No problem. I know how it feels to need time away from your kid." Xiaojun smiled. "We're happy to have Jaewoo. Dongjun has been excited since this morning for a sleepover."
"We're excited too." You replied, looking at your son. "Right, Jaewoo?"
"Yup! We're gonna have so much fun, Uncle Xiaojun."
Xiaojun chuckled. "I bet."
"Thanks again," Jaehyun said, patting Xiaojun on the back. "We appreciate you taking him."
"Have fun." Xiaojun winked. You laughed and hugged him.
"See you Sunday, Jaewoo." You waved.
"Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy!" He waved back.
"Take care of him," Jaehyun added.
"I will." Xiaojun chuckled, releasing the boy so that he could run and find Dongjun.
You and Jaehyun got back in the car, and Jaehyun pulled out of the driveway.
"So...we're alone for two days..." he stated.
"What are you insinuating Mr Jeong?" You teased.
"What does Mrs Jeong want to do for the next few days?" He asked.
"Hmmmm...I want to relax and spend time with my husband. Then when the sun goes down, I want him to fuck me." You purred.
"I can make that happen." He grinned and grabbed your hand. He kissed the back of it before releasing it and resting it on your thigh.
"Let's go home and have a nice dinner." Jaehyun lightly squeezed your thigh. "Can't wait to fuck you everywhere."
"Jae, you're such a horndog." You rolled your eyes.
"And you love it." He smirked.
"Just drive." You waved your hand around.
The two of you laughed, and you turned the radio on. You sang along to the music, and Jaehyun kept his hand on your leg, occasionally rubbing his thumb across your skin.
When you arrived home, you unpacked the groceries and began cooking dinner. Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "Mmm, it smells good."
"Thanks, babe." You replied.
He kissed your cheek, his hand rubbing softly against your belly. "Can't wait til your tummy is nice and round. It'll be beautiful."
"You're a bit too eager for me to be pregnant." You teased.
"Well, I love the idea of seeing you glow with my child. Knowing that you're carrying something that I put in you...fuck." Jaehyun buried his head against your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses down it. "Watching your breast swell, become full of milk...I bet our child would suckle hungrily from them."
His hand slid under your shirt, and he rubbed his fingers across your skin. You let out a soft moan, and he chuckled.
"Dinner first," you whispered.
"Yes ma'am." He replied. He nipped your shoulder and walked over to the dining table. He set two place settings and pulled out a bottle of wine.
You finished cooking, and the two of you sat down to eat. You talked about random things, and just enjoyed each other's company. The two of you talked about the business, the house, and the upcoming party that Ten was hosting. After dinner, you cleaned up and went to take a shower. When you got out, you dried yourself off and slipped on some comfortable clothes. You went downstairs and found Jaehyun lounging on the couch. He was shirtless and wearing only a pair of sweats.
"Comfy?" You smirked, walking over to him.
"Very." He smiled, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. "Now I'm perfect."
You laughed and leaned forward, kissing him deeply. His hands moved up and down your sides, and he moaned softly.
"You taste so good." He murmured, kissing your jaw. You hummed in response, closing your eyes. His hands slid down to your ass and he gripped it firmly.
"Mmm, babe." You moaned, running your hands through his hair. You felt him getting harder against you. You ground your hips against him and he groaned.
"Oh fuck," he gasped, pushing his hips up. "If we're doing it, we might as well do it here, right? You want to?"
You smirked and nodded, rolling your hips against him once again, earning a deep groan from him. He chuckled darkly, his hands tightening on your waist.
"You naughty girl." He kissed your shoulder.
"Only for you," you smirked, pressing light kisses on his neck.
"Yeah?" He grinned, nipping at your earlobe.
"You're making it hard to think straight."
"Good."
You groaned and pressed your lips against his. He returned the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours.
"Fuck," he breathed, gripping your ass.
"Mhm." You rocked against him, your breath hitching.
His hands moved under your shirt, and he cupped your breasts. He squeezed them gently, and his thumbs flicked over your nipples.
"God, I love your tits," he murmured.
"They're all yours," you replied, grinning.
He tugged your shirt off and tossed it aside. He leaned forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You moaned and arched your back, your fingers tangling in his hair. He sucked and licked, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud. You gasped and rocked your hips, rubbing your core against his erection.
"God, Jaehyun..." you panted, biting down on your lip.
He chuckled and moved to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. He pinched the other nipple, twisting it and you mewled, clutching him tightly.
"You like that, don't you, baby girl." His voice is rough. "So sensitive."
You whimpered in response, squirming against his bulge. "Baby...please...need you..."
Jaehyun laughed quietly. "Behave."
"Make me." You challenged him.
"Oh? You wanna be fucked?" He gripped your hips.
"Mhmm." You nodded.
"As you wish, love. Get on all fours for Daddy."
You slid down his legs and positioned yourself on the floor, resting on your forearms. Your ass was raised in the air and you felt a rush of arousal pool in your core.
"God, look at that ass of yours." His fingers tugged at the waistband of your pants, slipping his hand inside, and you gasped as his fingers brushed against your clit.
"No panties, huh?" He smirked, his thumb rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves.
"What's the point if you're just gonna fuck me anyways?" You teased.
"True," he chuckled.
He slipped his fingers inside you, and you moaned. He pumped them in and out, his thumb continuing to massage your clit.
"Fuck," you whimpered.
He spanked your butt, and you arched your back, your ass pushing closer to his hand.
"This should be easier for Daddy to fuck your sweet pussy," he growled.
You shivered in excitement, whimpering as he worked his fingers faster. He rubbed his hard-on against your backside, and you felt the thick outline of his cock through his pants.
"Feel that, baby?" He asked, squeezing your butt. "Feel how hard I am for you?"
"Yeah," you panted.
"So hot and wet." He spanked you. "All for Daddy, isn't it, baby?"
"Just for you."
He pumped his fingers quickly and you cried out, burying your face against the floor.
"You can scream all you want. We have the house to ourselves." He told you, sliding his hand down the curve of your ass, his thumb continuing to work your swollen clit. He curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot deep within you.
"So fucking wet," he growled.
You rode his hand, your orgasm building. You were so close, and you could feel the pressure coiling in your stomach.
"Jaehyun," you gasped. "Oh...please..."
"Come for me, baby." He kissed your neck.
You cried out, your orgasm washing over you. Your thighs quivered, and you gripped the floor. Jaehyun continued to tease your g spot and his thumb rubbed against your swollen clit until you had your fill. You screamed his name as he pressed his body against your backside, kissing your shoulder, while keeping the same pace.
"Fuck," you breathed, dropping onto your stomach.
He chuckled. "That's what I like to hear."
"Shut up, Jaehyun." You threw an arm over your eyes.
He slid his hand out of you and he brought his fingers to his lips. "Hmm, you taste amazing. A nice dessert after dinner." He stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked. He groaned as he tasted you, closing his eyes, enjoying every moment.
"Yeah?" You panted, peeking up at him.
"You were always so delicious." He released his fingers and smacked your ass. "Come here and suck me off, pretty girl."
"You're insatiable," you giggled as you moved down on the carpet.
"For you, my love, I am." He threaded his hands in your hair and he guided your head between his legs.
Your hands moved up and down his toned abdomen. He was cut in all the right areas. And you knew those muscles came with work but also because your man is the hottest hunk alive. You leaned down and licked at the trail of hair leading down past the waistband.
Jaehyun breathed out, looking up at the ceiling. He was fighting back the urge to be impatient. As much as he wants to dominate your sweet little mouth and thrust his cock in and out roughly, he won't ever hurt you.
"I love your happy trail, Jae. So sexy." Your fingers slid past the waistband and slowly, slowly pulled it down to release his throbbing cock. The thick and heavy weight springs free and you admire his veiny girth for a moment, salivating for that taste of his hot and salty precum. "Goddamn it, Jae. That is one big beautiful cock."
"You always loved this thing didn't you, my pretty girl? Admit it." Jaehyun teased, combing a hand through your hair. He plays with strands, knowing how that action sends a wave of warmth pooling your aching pussy. "Want this monster cock all for you."
"Yes, please." You purred and your fingers circled his cock at the base.
"Tell Daddy what you want." Jaehyun's eyes were dark with lust as his fingers slipped through your locks, slightly pulling. The action, plus his intense gaze, makes your eyes cloud over and your pussy gets impossibly wetter than it already was. "Use your words, baby girl."
"I want my husband's delicious, thick cock." You kissed his balls. "Please Daddy."
Jaehyun chuckled. "There's my wife." His eyes roll back and he hisses when your mouth slides over his cock. You bob your head, taking as much as you can before he reaches the back of your throat. "Mmm, that's it. Take it all."
Jaehyun's hand was on your cheek, tilting your head slightly for a better look at his cock stretching your sweet lips. "Fuck, so pretty."
Your mouth popped off his dick and you circled your tongue around his tip, smirking as you saw his abs twitch in response. You lick the veins and back up to his tip, before deepthroating him once again, slurping and sucking loudly and shamelessly.
"Fuck, that's right. Choke on my big cock, sweetheart. Suck that dick so well for Daddy." Your lips moved quickly and sloppy, your saliva dripping past his length. Your one hand massages his balls, while the other twisted and jacked off his saliva-soaked dick, bringing your mouth in rhythm with your fist.
Jaehyun groaned, feeling his high approaching fast. You looked up at him, maintaining eye contact. You both know that Jaehyun loves when you gaze at him when giving head, as his arousal goes up to the next level.
"That's it, baby, take me. Fuck, look at those eyes. Such a gorgeous girl." Jaehyun breathed, feeling you swallow him to the hilt. Your throat constricts around him, and you feel his release pouring down your throat. "Swallow daddy's cum, baby. Shit, yeah, such a good wife."
You took his length, releasing a few moments later with a wet sound. He was still half-hard, and you sucked once again, and licked from the base to the tip, watching it stiffen to its full girth again.
"Jaehyun," You whined, licking the clear fluid that leaked off his tip.
He looked at you, his expression a bit dazed from his orgasm, and you climbed over his lap, lining his cock at your entrance and slowly sinking. You mewled, closing your eyes, savoring the burn that came from his big cock sliding into your wet pussy.
Jaehyun moaned when his full length was completely inside you. "Ah, yes, fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart."
"Move for me. Please."
"Ride Daddy's cock. Use it and cum for me."
And ride you, I will. You planted your hands on his chest and started rocking on his hips, the sloppy sound filling the room as you continued fucking him. His hands rested on your hips and guided the movement, grunting and cursing under his breath as your cunt clenched him so well.
"Fuck, that's it. Oh my god, you feel amazing. Such a fucking good pussy. Best I've ever had." Jae grits his teeth. "Don't forget who owns this. This is Daddy's pussy. My. Fucking. Pussy."
"Yes," you gasped, picking up your pace. You moaned as you ground down on his hard cock, the drag along your walls feeling incredible. You clenched him and felt your body heating up with your release approaching.
"Say it," Jaehyun barked, squeezing your waist. His thumbs dug into your hips as he pumped in and out. "Tell me who it belongs to."
"It's yours, Jaehyun."
He let out a guttural groan. His hands gripped your waist and he bucked his hips up, ramming into you roughly. The lewd sounds grew louder, the scent of sex filling the air, and sweat glistening over his flawless body.
"Shit," you groaned, bouncing yourself harder, taking him to the hilt. "Oh, oh yes. So good. You feel so good, baby. Don't stop."
"Take my fucking cock, Y/N. Such a good girl. Look at how deep I am inside you, how big my cock looks stretching that tight pussy." He licked his lips, his eyes raking hungrily over you.
He drove himself upwards again, increasing his speed. You felt the knot in your belly beginning to unravel and a thin sheen of sweat glinted off your skin. You clutched Jaehyun's hand and threaded his fingers with yours, feeling your orgasm fast approaching.
He must be nearing his end as well, his hips losing their rhythm, becoming sloppy with desire, but he wanted you to break first. His other hand left its place on your hips and traced circles around your swollen nub, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Can't wait to see you knocked up, baby girl, full of my baby, so round and beautiful."
"Oh fuck, I'm...oh fuck. Jaehyun!" Your climax hits you and your juices gush all over his dick and your thighs. Jaehyun curses as your walls milk his cock, milking him of everything and spilling it all inside your womb, pumping the last bits and still grinding until he has drained the last drop.
You rested your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.
You eventually lean back, and look at your husband. He looks wrecked.
You probably do too.
"Hi," you breathe, giving him a weak smile.
"Hi, pretty girl." He replies. "You okay?"
"Mhhmm. I don't think I could be any better, to be honest." You laughed softly, your body sated and warm.
"Me too." He grinned. "Damn, babe, it's been a while."
"Definitely," you nodded in agreement.
"Want to get cleaned up?" He offered.
"In a minute. I just want to stay here a little longer. Please?" You said quietly.
He chuckled. "Okay, we'll stay like this."
You laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his torso. He pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it across your naked bodies.
"We haven't had alone time in forever, huh?" He stated, combing his fingers through your hair.
"Mmm, that's true." You hummed in acknowledgement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
"When was the last time you and I got to spend time without our son?" He asked, tapping his fingers against your arm.
"I honestly couldn't tell ya." You laughed, lacing your fingers with his.
"Yeah...me neither." He replied.
You smiled, peering up at him through your lashes. He looked beautiful, his chest rising and falling with each breath. You brushed some stray hairs away from his forehead.
He was perfect.
And he was all yours.
"I know what I want to do for the next seventy odd years. Spend it with you." He smiled, taking your hand in his, interlacing your fingers.
"Me too." You whispered, cupping his face.
"Our 60th anniversary...fucking old but I'll fuck you then, just so you know." He told you with a playful grin.
You slapped his chest with your free hand, letting out a scoff of amusement. "Not in your 80's Jae."
"Hmmm," he narrowed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"Can I at least make love to you in our 70's?" He asked, raising a brow.
"If you're that determined...yes you can, babe." You pecked him.
"Then I'm gonna fuck the living daylights out of you tomorrow morning, old or not, and it's a promise." He winked.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jae." You teased.
"Watch me, baby."
It had been about two months since you and Jaehyun finally had alone time and now Jaewoo was running around the house like a whirlwind. He was getting quite active at his age, and the two of you couldn't help but wonder where he got all that energy from.
While his dad worked from home, Jaewoo would often come to visit him and bring him juice boxes or other random things from the playroom. Jaehyun would always humor his son by accepting whatever gift he had for him. Sometimes, they'd be random papers filled with doodles or playthings. Jaehyun cherished it all.
Even if it was junk, Jaehyun would simply put it away for a rainy day, and your house was covered with them.
Jaewoo was his little prince, after all.
"Daddy, look." Jaewoo skipped towards the mahogany desk in Jaehyun's study and put a stuffed dinosaur onto it. It was an orange and white T-Rex and one of Jaewoo's favorites.
Jaehyun reached out to stroke Jaewoo's soft dark hair. He had your natural waves.
"Ahh, my favorite dinosaur." Jaehyun smiled wide as he pulled his son into his arms.
Jaewoo giggled loudly, squeezing his father's shoulder. Jaehyun gave his son a gentle squeeze.
"You need to eat lunch," Jaehyun suggested. "Want to order pizza?"
Jaewoo nodded enthusiastically. You always told Jaehyun that pizza was fine occasionally, as long as he watched the amount of sauce and cheese. You had prepared a healthy lunch for Jaewoo, but sometimes Jaehyun could never resist spoiling his little boy.
And by occasionally, you meant more than 4 times a week...but you didn't stop Jaehyun because he did help with other chores when the weekends came around.
"Where's Mommy, Jaewoo?" Jaehyun asked, turning off his laptop. "Go get her so I can place the order."
"Okay!" The little boy ran away, leaving his father smiling and shaking his head.
Jaewoo went around your house looking for you, searching the living room, the kitchen, only to find you huddled over the toilet in the downstairs bathroom. His eyes wide, he screamed for Jaehyun as he ran to the study. "Daaaddddyyyyyyyy, Mommy is sick!!!"
Jaewoo looked towards the open door in surprise before rushing forward. "Jaewoo?" He questioned frantically.
"Daddy, Daddy!" The boy screamed as he pushed his tiny legs to run towards his father. He wrapped his arms around Jaehyun's calves and looked up at him imploringly.
"What? What, why are you shouting? Where's Mommy? Why are you crying, Jaewoo?" Jaehyun smoothed Jaewoo's hair, worried.
"She's sick!" Jaewoo explained as tears started rolling down his cheeks. Jaehyun felt a rush of panic through his body. His mind running with all sorts of questions.
"Where is she, Jaewoo?" He knelt down and wiped Jaewoo's tear-stained cheeks with his thumb.
"In the bathroom." He pointed to the door that was still left ajar. Jaehyun pulled away from the tight embrace he held Jaewoo in and rushed in the direction his son pointed to.
"Y/N..." He found you in the bathroom, still leaning over the toilet bowl. Your pale complexion frightened Jaehyun. For someone with skin that glows so perfectly, a shade of a tinge of whiteness wasn't a good sight to see. "Y/N!"
"W-Why are you panicking so much?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the bathtub while you wiped your mouth clean with toilet paper.
"Y/N, we need to go see the doctor," Jaehyun announced anxiously as he grabbed you by the wrist and tried to drag you out. "You could have a serious illness or something. Who knows?! Jaewoo heard you being sick..."
"Calm down." Your voice remained calm, and it immediately made Jaehyun stop and stare. A smile etched on your face before your hand took over his and gently laid it flat on your belly. "We don't need to visit a doctor, sweetie."
Jaehyun blinked twice, unable to process what was happening. You laughed, thinking how it was cute to see him be confused.
"Jae...sweetie, you do the math. Our son heard me throwing up in the bathroom and panicked over nothing. It isn't because I'm sick...no." Your other hand came up to cup Jaehyun's jaw before continuing, "I'm just having a baby."
Jaehyun gasped when everything fell into place, the pieces that were once broken together had made a bigger and clearer picture for him to understand the situation better. "Holy fuck...you mean, that you-"
"Yeah." You bit your lower lip and grinned as you saw your husband's mouth gaping. "Surprise?"
"Baby, oh my gosh." He immediately hugged you close, his arms wrapping around you while pulling you flush against his chest. He could not describe the happiness he felt when he found out about your pregnancy.
"I was going to tell you but I guess your son ruined it with his screaming." You teased, your arms circled Jaehyun, and returned the hug.
"In his defense, he probably thought his mommy was sick. Isn't that right, buddy?"
You and Jaehyun withdrew the hug when you heard small footsteps approach the bathroom. With curious eyes, Jaewoo stood a little bit away from the two of you and looked up with tears in his eyes. Jaehyun broke into laughter, grinning before reaching out for the toddler and scooped him in his arms.
"Is Mommy sick? She's very sick isn't she?!" Jaewoo cried as he hugged the sides of Jaehyun's face. "I'm scared, daddy."
"Mommy is not sick, Jaewoo." Jaehyun comforted his son. "Mommy is just..."
"Jaewoo, do you want to be a big brother?" You asked, leading your little family into the living room.
Jaewoo is still teary as he rubbed his face on the side of his father's neck and listened attentively to his mother's question. "Mmhmm." He mumbled, nodding. Jaehyun places Jaewoo in the middle of the couch and your son automatically wraps his small arms around you when you sat down. Jaehyun settles on the other end and keeps one of his hands wrapped around yours, his thumb grazing your ring finger gently.
"Mommy is having another baby." You gently tell Jaewoo. You pointed at your belly. "The baby is growing inside of mommy's tummy."
"But why were you sick, mommy?" Jaewoo inquired innocently.
"Mommy ate something and the baby didn't like it. Mommy didn't know that the baby didn't like the food." You explained in a gentle tone.
"So, you threw it out?" Jaewoo tilted his head, asking. "You shouldn't have eaten it then, mommy."
"Next time I'll ask the baby what they want to eat." You nodded in response.
"And the baby is fine now?"
"Yup, the baby is perfectly fine now." You replied with a smile.
"Pinky swear?" Jaewoo smiled cheekily as he put his tiny finger on yours.
"Yup, we'll all be fine." You brushed some strands of your son's hair away and rested a hand on your stomach.
"Mommy, can I help watch the baby?" Jaewoo asks. You glance up at Jaehyun, meeting your husband's soft and loving gaze.
"Do you promise to help look after your baby brother or sister?" Jaehyun continues. Jaewoo nods fervently, excited at the idea of having someone smaller to protect and dote on.
"Mommy and daddy would really appreciate the help, baby," you tell him, smoothing down his hair once more. "Are you excited?"
"Yes, mommy. I am!" Jaewoo claps, wiggling his small body as he bounces on the couch. You could tell how enthusiastic he is to be the 'big' brother of the new baby, his tiny smile, the way he spoke.
Jaehyun leaned over his son's head, making a funny face that caused his son to fall back laughing. Then, he planted a kiss on his head, looking up at you with the fondest expression ever. His palm cupped your cheek, giving you a soft smooch.
"Thank you, Y/N."
"For what, Mr Jeong?"
"For marrying me, giving birth to our son, and being my forever companion. Thank you for always standing by my side."
“I love you Jaehyun.” You clutch his hand.
“I love you too.” Jaehyun gently taps the tip of your nose, kissing the side of your forehead while placing an arm behind you and Jaewoo. Your family's laughter resounded across the quiet residence, warm and wholesome.
#kvanity#ksmutsociety#nct#nct 127#nct dojaejung#nct stories#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jaehyun#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader
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hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid
pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader
summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.
warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used
author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)
word count → 5.2k
When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.
You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.
Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.
The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.
What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.
You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.
But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.
“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”
Oh. That’s right.
His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.
You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.
The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.
When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.
With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.
With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.
You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.
Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.
And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.
You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.
You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.
Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.
It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.
So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.
But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.
You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.
You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.
“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”
You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.
“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.
“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.
“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.
“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”
Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.
“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”
“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”
You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.
“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”
He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.
“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”
The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.
You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.
So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.
“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”
Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.
The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.
Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.
You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.
Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.
You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.
What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.
With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”
You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.
The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.
You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.
You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.
“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”
You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.
“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”
The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.
“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”
The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.
You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.
“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”
As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.
“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"
“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”
You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.
“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”
“Oh.”
Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.
You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.
You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.
You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader
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