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freneticfloetry · 2 days ago
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I know. I'm late. Who's shocked, at this point? The end of esta noche will be up this weekend (or before, if the odds are in my favor tomorrow). In the meantime, have a taste of the next thing in line (which I'm super excited about, actually), along with a shiny new header for 2025!
Thanks to @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @strandnreyes @bonheur-cafe @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @carlossreaders and @heartstringsduet for the tags today. 😘
"Do you think this was his way of breaking the news that he doesn't want to live with me anymore?" Snorting, she snags the last strip of bacon from his plate. "Yeah, you've officially lost me." "Think about it. The guys he hooks up with, he doesn't even stay to see sunrise." He draws his shoulders up to his ears and lets them drop back again. "Now he's just gonna, what, live with one for the rest of his life?" "The rest of — wow, okay." She puts both eyebrows up in that particular way that means she thinks he's pathetic but thinks actually saying so is too basic. "Alejandro, I say this with every shred of affection between us, plus the brunch you're now buying because you've made my brain hurt: there are literal lesbians who move slower than this." "Nora, I'm serious," he hisses, snatching what's left of his bacon back. "He's noped out of the last three showings. He gets cagey whenever I send a link to a listing. At this point, I can't even come anywhere near him with an open browser." But it's also Henry, who hates confrontation, who gets anxious about change, who can pluck endless poetry out of thin air but struggles with words that will hurt to hear. Alex shakes his head. Regardless of Nora's trash take, the rest of his life feels pretty damn accurate. In hindsight, he'd sort of figured that they'd find a place and move themselves in and just keep going like this forever — the same companionship and cohabitation that some might call co-dependence, with Henry fucking his way through every dude with Daddy Issues until either his looks or his trust fund ran out, and Alex secretly, silently, stupidly in love with him until the approximate heat death of the universe. He'd never considered that Henry might opt for a secret third thing: moving on with his life, without Alex in it. The bacon crumbles to bits in his hand. He bites into his lower lip, instead. "What if..." He stops. Swallows hard. Starts again. "Nora, what if he just fucked me goodbye?"
Y’all were quick this week! Tagging in @never-blooms @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @lemonlyman-dotcom @orchidscript @ladytessa74 @three-drink-amy @herefortarlos @carlos-tk @welcometololaland and @alrightbuckaroo.
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lunatasticdinoface · 1 year ago
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the exact same issues were present in denmark until like 2019 (and still are, to be honest)
forced sterilization for trans people ended in 2014.
there was outcry for trans healthcare reform, as it was linked to the psychiatric sector until 2019, but all the psychiatrists asked the same insane questions of "did you play with dolls or action men as a kid" "did you like rollercoasters as a kid" "did you ever fantasize about having sex with your own mother" stuff like that.
these psychiatrists work at sexologisk klinik. (sexological clinic)
in 2019, they reformed it to be under the medical sector instead. moved the clinic to another building, center for kønsidentitet. (center for gender identity)
so doctors run it now, but you still have to speak to psychiatrists for a year or two before you start treatment. so they need to borrow some psychiatrists from somewhere
in their infinite logic, they brought over the same psychiatrists from sexologisk klinik. the ones who were awful at their jobs in the best case, or maliciously transphobic in the worst case. because, after all, on paper, they were the current foremost experts on treating trans people.
so the reform essentially just moved the building over a few hundred meters.
i'd like to take you on the journey a trans person goes through:
you schedule an appointment with your doctor. if you do not say the right things, they can reject you because you didn't fulfil the criteria for referral. if you have been in any psychiatric treatment within the past 6 months you are not eligible at all.
you wait 6+ months for your appointment at center for kønsidentitet
you finally go in and talk to a person. you are not yet admitted for any treatment, this is just establishing a baseline of what you want. in this room, you are sat next to a clearly visible monitor that shows your deadname and assigned gender.
the person asks you some obviously important questions: how do you feel wearing gender-affirming clothes? how do you feel about your body image? how long have you felt this way? what treatments are you looking for from us? which name would you like to go by?
the last one really should have been asked -before- you go in, and there is an official guideline somewhere that says they should ask this, and refer to you only by your chosen name, but they do not
they also ask less obviously important questions: how often do you masturbate? would getting genital surgery affect how often you masturbate? are you able to masturbate to completion? what is your sexuality? are you sure of your sexuality? how are you sure of your sexuality? how many friends do you have? online friends do not count. have you told your family yet? why haven't you changed your legal name and gender yet?
i was told that, if you have not yet come out to your family, this is a significant factor in whether you can get admitted to treatment. because abusive families don't exist, right?
anyway, you're sent home after like 40 minutes of this. you are told that they will have a group meeting with doctors and psychiatrists where they will decide whether to go ahead with treatment for you.
the person you were talking to promises you that they will tell your side of the story at this meeting. but they often only write down the answers to their checklist of questions, not any extra details, so they risk forgetting most of the things you said, as the meeting is several weeks after your appointment. maybe months.
you are not invited to this meeting.
if the person forgets any important details, or does not speak in your support, it can affect whether you get admitted for treatment. you won't know if this happens, because you are not there
finally, you most likely get your rejection letter. it will cite vague and typically wrong things. and it'll deadname you one last time for good measure.
that's the journey of a trans person going through the trans healthcare system here.
my friend mentioned at her appointment, that she had known she was trans for over 10 years. she was rejected, because they did not want to risk treating an "episodic case of gender dysphoria". like it was just her brain going "oopsie doopsie we're trans for this month".
how'd they come to that conclusion? who fucking knows! you're not invited to the meeting to defend yourself from misrepresentation.
another friend of mine showed me her rejection letter. it deadnamed not only her, but another patient at the clinic. i share it here, censored, with her permission:
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that's right, she got a copy-pasted response with ANOTHER PATIENT'S NAME on it.
(also, notice that they used the "episodic" term again, at the end of the second paragraph.)
anyway, icing on the cake:
you cannot appeal this decision. you cannot legally re-apply for treatment for a YEAR after this rejection. nevermind the fact that the rejection will likely leave you critically depressed and in need of either extensive therapy or anti-depressants. which forces another 6 months wait time to start psychiatric treamtent. and then forces 6 ADDITIONAL months wait time to even TRY re-applying for gender-affirming treatment.
so you're looking at a 1½ to 2 year minimum before you can try again.
you're locked into a brutally vicious loop of "you're too broken for us to treat you, currently," and "you're not broken enough that we want to waste time treating you"
and if you've got an existing mental disability, like autism? your chances plummet even further.
honestly, it's a matter of time before someone throws a molotov cocktail into that place and i would not blame them. several of the employees there genuinely deserve prison sentences. but there are no laws that say they are committing a crime.
my sources are anecdotal and i have no hard evidence. believe me or not. here's how people (patients) rate the place, if that matters to you:
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and here are the closest things i can get to independent sources. they're from amnesty international, in cooperation with local trans communities.
(i know amnesty caught some flak recently, but these are among the only groups i can find that are actually politically fighting for trans rights here.)
(danish language only, 2016): amnesty criticizes the current treatment of trans people and recommends removing (most) psychiatric screenings: https://www.ft.dk/samling/20161/almdel/SUU/bilag/322/1758066.pdf
(danish language only, 2014): amnesty shares the experience of several trans people who were admitted to treatment: https://amnesty.dk/wp-content/uploads/media/2263/amnesty-transkoennedes-adgang-til-sundhed.pdf
some key points from the second link: none of the patients felt safe to be honest with their psychiatrist or doctor. none of the patients felt that the questions they were asked were fair or relevant. all of the patients felt that their boundaries and rights were violated.
sorry for the infodump but i have genuinely lost sleep from thinking about these things. not many things make me actually furious, but this always will.
most enlightened, most happy countries in the world, my fuckin ass.
(if i made any mistakes in the post i won't go back and fix them, i can't think about this anymore right now)
wish you guys would hate norway for the intense medical transphobia the way you hated swedes for not feeding people. we couldnt get a legal gender marker change without forced sterilisation until 2016. theres 1 board in 1 hospital in the whole country that's allowed to give HRT and they go by 1950s gender roles (i.e. if you're a trans man who wears nail polish, or a trans woman who wears pants, or you're gay, you're denied), and there's a minimum of a full year of psychological evaluations before any treatment is given (they ask helpful and relevant questions like "did you play with cars or dolls as a child" and "do you think about your parents when you masturbate"). anyway burn down rikshospitalet
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coridallasmultipass · 1 year ago
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(Sorry in advance for censoring my text, Tumblr is weird about banned words and I'm mad my last post has been invisible. Sorry if you've seen my last post before it went invisible.) So, I guess the Tumblr purity hammer unalived the post I made last week about having a FREE BRO STRIDER COSPLAY BL0W/. JOB GIF SET on my Only Fans. It's FREE, but I'm gonna put a price tag on it in a few days. So. This is the last chance to view it while it's free! Adult people only please/you just need a free OF account to see it. Only Fans dott c0m slash xoxoCori (I'll put the actual post link in the replies). Not e%plicit preview under the cut:
Kn1ves aren't allowed on OF so this is the outtake. The rest is e%plicit POV of a Br0-./job. There's no kn1ves or weird sh1t in the actual content.
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akattawo · 11 days ago
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Real shit
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focusonkayjay · 1 month ago
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right here, yet so far away | oneshot
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: exes to lovers, ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, angst, smut, fluff
Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)
Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything)
A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks. P.S i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.
//
“But baby… please just…” Jungkook’s voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.
“Jungkook, stop it.” you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.
“But baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good… just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you can’t just... leave like this.”
He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But there’s no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.
“Don’t you understand?” you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “I’m tired of you, Jungkook. I’m tired of us.” His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t… you don’t mean that.”
“I do.” you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. “I mean every word of it. I’m done with you. This whole relationship… it’s not going anywhere. It’s a waste of time, and I just… I can’t, Jungkook. We have to break up.”
His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve… or at least, what you’re determined to show him.
“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
You stare at him blankly. "Because I don’t love you anymore.” you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.
It’s always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.
He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.
For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesn’t move.
Four months. It’s been four months since you walked away, and he still doesn’t understand why.
He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He can’t get rid of the way you looked at him… like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didn’t love him anymore.
He still doesn’t have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didn’t want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he can’t escape.
Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.
He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, he’d tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.
His company wasn’t just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.
Though Jungkook wasn’t keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.
You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.
It wasn’t just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.
He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldn’t explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldn’t look away.
It wasn’t until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.
Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind words, immediately making him feel at ease.
He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.
Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost.
He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.
Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.
He knows he can’t linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he can’t afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.
The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt, but it’s enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.
Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but he’s learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. He’s the CEO and his company can’t afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, there’s a bigger picture to focus on.
//
You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. They’re adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.
As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.
It’s the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.
You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.
"Break up with him."
Junghyun's voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.
"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother, and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.
You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkook’s apartment one morning. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.
"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isn’t in love... he’s just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "You’re nothing but a distraction."
You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.
Junghyun didn’t flinch. "I’m completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. You’re a kindergarten teacher, Y/n. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."
His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever you’re trying to pull, it won’t work."
Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? He’s smitten, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last. You’ll only hold him back."
You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.
You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.
“Hanyung Hospital.” Junghyun’s voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadn’t found.
“Isn’t that where your brother is admitted?” His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didn’t need to see to recognize.
Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.
Junghyun’s smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. “Guess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.
Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.
"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.
You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard he’s been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.
Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.
“Maybe I should make sure this coma lasts forever—”
"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.
"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."
You forced yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to spill over. But deep down, you knew exactly what this man was doing. And it felt like a threat too enormous to escape.
Junghyun’s smirk only deepened, his silence more unsettling than words. It was as though he reveled in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.
Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkook’s family wielded wasn’t just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.
For all you knew, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you started to think that was your chilling reality.
You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you could muster, but the unease in your chest lingered. You felt trapped, cornered by an enemy who knew just where to strike to hurt you the most.
"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighed, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."
His words struck like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You felt your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You felt suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.
Your gaze dropped to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbled, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.
You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself composed.
"I'll break up with him." you whispered finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slipped down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settled in.
Junghyun stepped down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You didn’t move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision had physically anchored you.
He stopped in front of you, and you felt his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escaped him, sending shivers down your spine.
"Now that was easy, wasn’t it?" he mocked, patting your head like you were a child who had just followed orders. Your jaw tightened, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remained silent.
"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun said, his voice low and taunting as he stepped closer.
You didn’t respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.
He smirked at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believed you to be. The force was slight, but it felt heavier, laden with the weight of everything he’d taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.
The chilly breeze cut through the quiet, and you felt it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world could be.
"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.
You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.
You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.
You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasn’t a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.
The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?
Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.
All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.
//
Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.
The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.
“Mr. Jeon.” Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. “We’re finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.” he says, his tone calm but purposeful.
“It’s part of our ‘Healthy Futures’ program.” Eunwoo continues, “Where we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.”
Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. “Good. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. I’ll review the activity plans later today.”
Eunwoo presses on. “We’re also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.”
Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.
“I’ll check my schedule.” he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he can’t quite shake.
As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.
“Your schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. “It’s literally the weekend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “I know, but I just don’t feel like going.” he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.
Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkook’s, his tone light but persistent. “The kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s your responsibility.”
Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing there’s no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. “Fine.” he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. “But... you’re coming with me.”
“Of course.” Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. “I go wherever my boss goes.”
Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. “You’re insufferable.” he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. “It’s part of the job.” he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.
//
The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.
You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.
“You’re early today.” she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. “I just missed Beomgyu.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Go ahead.” she says, motioning towards the elevator.
You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brother’s room is.
The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. It’s been four long years, and he hasn’t moved an inch.
You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.
“Hey, Gyu.” you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. “I’m here.”
No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, it’s as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.
As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "It’s getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.
"No matter what I do... I just... I just can’t stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyu’s hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if it’s your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.
Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.
Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.
You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.
He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyu’s vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkook’s presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.
And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, you’ll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasn’t wrapped in layers of regret.
Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.
You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.
//
After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brother’s side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.
You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.
The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.
Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. You’re lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.
You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.
“Oh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?” Namjoon’s voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. “I was just visiting Beomgyu.” you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.
“Ah...” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“No, not at all.” you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. “I was just about to leave anyway. What’s up?” There’s a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. “I wanted to check if you’re coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.”
The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place that’s come to feel like a second home. “Of course I’ll be there.” you reply without hesitation.
“That's great!!” Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. “Mrs. Lee mentioned there’s going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though I’m not really sure what it’s about.”
You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. “A workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it's about.” you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.
Namjoon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.” he says. “See you Joonie... Bye.” you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.
As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.
It’s not just a building, it’s a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.
Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasn’t just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, it’s become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.
It’s a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.
More than that, it’s helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness you’re not ready to confront fully yet.
Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why you’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.
Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.
There’s a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.
The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... it’s a part of your healing, too.
//
Saturday
"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.
Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and you’d eagerly offered. But luck hadn’t been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what should’ve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.
As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.
“No way...” you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. “This is… Jungkook’s workshop?”
You stand frozen, trying to process what you’re seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.
You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one you’ve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.
“Fuck.” you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.
Your mind races with questions you’re not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?
You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of children’s laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you can’t just leave.
Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension you’re carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.
“I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I don’t know him.” you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.
//
As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesn’t take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Y/N…” he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. “I had no idea this was going to be his workshop.” The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.
You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?” you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.
Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s trying to cushion the blow. “Unfortunately…” he starts, his tone apologetic. “He’s here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. “This is so, so, so not fair.” you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.
“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. “You’re going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you don’t know him and I’m sure he won’t approach you… I hope.” he adds with a small, uncertain smile.
You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoon’s logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I haven’t seen him in four months, Joon.” you admit, your voice shaky. “And now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?”
Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but I know you’ve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.”
You nod slowly, though you’re far from convinced. This isn’t a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkook’s presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.
You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.
Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. There’s no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. It’s high time you start helping out. After all, you’re already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever you’re needed.
//
Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.
As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. He’s dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and it’s no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.
“This program is called 'Healthy Futures'.” he starts, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... it’s not just important now, but it’ll help you for years to come.”
He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. “Today, we’ll talk about nutrition, and we’ll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. You’ll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.”
The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkook’s ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.
You watch as he crouches down to a child’s level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.
You can’t help but smile, even if it’s bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.
Namjoon nudges you gently. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. “Yeah.” you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. “I’m fine.” you say.
//
As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort he’s poured into making this workshop meaningful. “Alright, kids, now it’s time for the fun part...” he announces with a grin.
“My team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.
The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkook’s smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.
As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.
Jungkook lips part a watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling. She's… here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.
He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jimin’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Mr. Jeon, shall we?” he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.
But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. You’re standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.
The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.
The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.
“Are you... are you okay?” His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.
You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way he’s looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.
“I uhhh... I’m fine.” you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesn’t let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to lose the contact.
Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. “Y/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.
“I’m fine.” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you.
Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. “Mr. Jeon, should we...” he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.
For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadn’t prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.
He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.
But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.
//
Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkook’s presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall you’d carefully built around yourself.
The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanage’s small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.
Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.
Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadn’t changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth you’d once found comfort in.
And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldn’t let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. You’re so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.
“Y/n.”
Your body tenses instantly. You don’t turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if it’s some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.
“You… won’t even look at me?” Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.
“Y/n…” His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. It’s not just a name... it’s a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you can’t.
You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul you’ve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that you’re the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to face him.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. “What?” The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.
Jungkook’s gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But there’s something different too, a guardedness that wasn’t there before, a distance he doesn’t know how to bridge.
“How… how have you been? It’s been a while.” he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.
“I’m fine.” The words come quickly, too quickly, as if you’re desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You don’t meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like you’re afraid of what he might see.
Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You can’t do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you don’t feel the same pull towards him that you always have... it’s too much.
Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.
“Wait.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. It’s almost unbearable... how much harder this is than you’d expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions you’ve fought tirelessly to suppress.
Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you can’t bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.
“Let me go, Jungkook.” you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.
“I didn’t expect to see you here…” he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite place. He’s ignoring your plea, but there’s no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I’m volunteering.” you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. “And I need to go.” you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.
This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You don’t dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you don’t stop. You can’t.
You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.
Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But it���s futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.
A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.
“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions you’ve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... it’s all too much.
You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.
//
The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. You’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.
Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.
By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.
“You did great today.” he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.
Finally, you decide it’s time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.
Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve you’ll get tonight.
As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.
You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.
As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but it’s the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.
Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.
“Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.
“Y/n, it’s late. Let me drop you home.” Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what you’ve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.
Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. “Y/n, please…” His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. “Just go, Jungkook.” you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.
Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ll just drop you home. Please, it’s not safe this late.” he persists, his determination unwavering.
You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesn’t back down so easily.
The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.
“Y/n.” he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.
The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You don’t turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.
Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if he’s been chasing you, though he hasn’t. “Please.” he says, his voice raw and pleading. “Just let me drop you home. That’s literally all I’m asking.”
His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isn’t arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.
You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.
Jungkook quietly gets back into the driver’s seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.
As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.
The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. “So… how have you been?” he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
You don't answer. You don’t move. You don’t flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.
“Y/n…” he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.
He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in four months... and now you’re here, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.
“You’re right here.” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But why do you feel so far away?”
Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Are you really not going to talk to me… at all?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.
Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.
He’s done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.
“You know what…” Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you don’t move, don’t react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that he’s no longer heading towards your neighborhood.
“I can’t do this anymore.” he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.
“Jungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!” you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. “We need to talk.” he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if there’s nothing else in the world but his determination.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. “Jungkook, turn the car around.” you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.
But he doesn’t listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... he’s heading in the direction towards his place.
“Jungkook…” you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.
He doesn’t answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he’s trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.
You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what he’s so desperate to say.
After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesn’t waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.
Before you can even process what’s happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.
“Come with me.” he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation he’s forced you into.
“Jungkook…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but there’s an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.
You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. He’s desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s barely holding himself together. “Jungkook, I...” you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.
“Just… please.” he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. “I just wanna talk.... Please.”
His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain he’s been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesn’t give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.
You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.
As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like he’s searching for something he’s desperate to find.
“Y/n.” he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.
You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.
“Y/n, please.” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “Just talk to me.”
Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. You’re cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.
Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.
“Just leave me alone.” you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.
Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.
“Y/n…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.
“You can’t do this, Jungkook.” you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. “After everything I did to cut you off… you can’t just... just pull me back like this.”
Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I don’t even understand why you left?”
His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. You’re both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.
The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkook’s gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.
His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. It’s desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.
Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears don’t stop.
Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.
“I... I’m sorry.” he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. “I shouldn’t have—”
Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions you’ve been holding back crashes into him.
Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but it’s real. It’s the connection you’ve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid you’ll slip away again.
The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions you’ve tried so hard to suppress.
Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each other’s clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.
The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. It’s like you’ve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you can’t help but devour each other.
You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.
Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.
The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.
“Fuck...” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.
He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.
"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he can’t say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.
"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.
"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.
“I…” his voice trails, and you can tell he’s struggling to find the right words. “I fucking missed you.” he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.
You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. “Kook…” you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.
You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like he’s trying to apologize for everything that’s happened between you, even when it's not his fault.
Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You can’t stop yourself, you can’t resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, it’s too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and he’s giving you all the affection you’ve been craving for these past four dreadful months.
His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure he’s sending through your body.
“Fuck.” you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.
You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. “Fuck… please... please Kook... don’t stop.” you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.
Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.
You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.
He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.
Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.
“Fuck...” he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.
“I... I need you baby....” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.
With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.
Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought he’d never have you like this again, that he’d lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.
You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. “I love you...” you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.
As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.
His movements are filled with need and longing, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.
You’re lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.
“Oh god....” you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. He’s chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.
He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.
Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. “I’m...I'm coming...” you cry, your nails digging into his skin.
Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get to have you again.
You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you can’t do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.
“Fuck baby...” he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.
Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he can’t put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.
He never imagined he’d hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought he’d lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.
He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.
The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.
A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.
He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.
//
Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.
The realization that he’s on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.
He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.
Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But there’s no answer.
Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but you’re nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.
Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?
Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.
His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driver’s seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.
The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesn’t care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.
He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He can’t let that go. He won’t.
The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing you’re out there but not by his side, terrifies him. It’s a kind of pain he doesn’t think he can survive twice.
As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how you’ll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.
Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. There’s no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.
He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.
He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.
As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, it’s as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen you.
He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure you’re okay.
You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize he’s found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.
You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.
You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldn’t give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.
Jungkook’s eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You left.” he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.
“Why... why did you leave?” His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he can’t control.
You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you can’t escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.
"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.
"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"
He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... it’s been hell, Y/n. I’ve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I don’t know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."
You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I don’t even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.
"I don’t know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, I’m just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."
Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."
He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Don’t tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know that’s not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if he’s clinging to any shred of hope that there’s something he’s missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.
“I can feel it, Y/n.” he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. “I know you love me. You can’t just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.” He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. “So don’t tell me that’s it. Don’t tell me you just decided it was over.”
"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like there’s no hope left.
The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didn’t think were possible. His pain, the hurt you’ve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.
"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.
As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.
His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, you’re not alone.
Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.
The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why you’re in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.
"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe he’s never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.
His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"
His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. He’s not sure if he’s crying for the both of you or if he’s just so lost in your pain that it feels like it’s his own. "I can’t lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I can’t fix it if I don’t understand."
His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation he’s feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.
Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.
With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.
It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.
Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.
His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you don’t seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.
"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but it’s still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."
His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.
"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.
You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.
You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.
Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My car’s parked right outside your house, so let’s go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.
//
You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.
You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.
Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.
Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face what’s on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.
There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.
He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.
Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.
You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.
You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.
But right now, there’s no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, you’ve never felt more alive.
“I missed you.” you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like you’re afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. He’s real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.
Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if you’re this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.
"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."
His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."
Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.
He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.
But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.
“Who’s... that?” Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyu’s gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, you can’t help but smile.
“That’s Jungkook.” you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. There’s something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkook’s smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.
Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. “Ms. Choi.” the doctor greets with a warm smile. “Congratulations. It’s wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, we’ll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.”
You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. “Of course... thank you, doctor.” you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”
Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. “Don’t disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.” he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.
You glance at Jungkook, who’s scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Behave.” you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.
As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.
You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.
Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."
Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. “Junghyun? My brother?” he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.
“Four months ago... he came to the kindergarten.” you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.
The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.
By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkook’s body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, “That motherfucker…”
His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. He’s angry... angrier than you’ve ever seen him but you know it’s not directed at you. It’s the thought of his brother’s cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.
"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where he’s headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.
He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He won’t be able to do anything. I’ll make sure... I’ll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."
You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he can’t talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.
"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."
Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.
//
Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didn’t expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings you—"
His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process what’s happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesn’t let him regain his footing.
With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyun’s head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.
"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "That’s for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while I’m here."
Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."
But Jungkook doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, you’ll regret it."
Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."
Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dad’s going to be proud when he hears what you’ve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.
Junghyun’s smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think he’ll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "You’re the pathetic one, hyung."
He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know what’s really pathetic? That you thought I wouldn’t find out. That you thought I’d just let it slide."
Junghyun’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you don’t..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You won’t just have Dad to deal with. You’ll have me."
Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.
//
As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.
You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.
He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.
You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.
His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.
As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You can’t help but wonder how he’s handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.
"So, where’s your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until he’s leaning casually against the kitchen counter.
"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I don’t even get a proper introduction?"
You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "I’ll introduce you when the time’s... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The time’s right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.
Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.
You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.
You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.
Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.
"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You should’ve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."
A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! That’s not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isn’t the answer."
His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."
You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.
Jungkook’s expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. You’ll both be safe. I promise."
His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.
You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."
A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.
"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.
"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."
After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.
It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.
Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.
"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyu’s voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. “But, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.”
You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. “He’d absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.
You groan, covering your face in Jungkook’s chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Gyu, you’re unbelievable.” you mumble, your voice muffled.
Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.” he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.
Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. “I like him.” he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t encourage him.” you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.
“Come on.” Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go… we can't have your brother starving.” he says.
You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.
Beomgyu’s playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought you’d lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.
In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words can’t, filling your heart with a quiet peace.
For the first time in months, you’re not just surviving... you’re actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.
—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
my masterlist <3
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alexiroflife · 6 months ago
Text
"first day"
fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off
Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door
to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of
WC: 1,701
Warning(s): none
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.
His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"
"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."
"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.
"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."
"Not at all, actually," you agree.
Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"
"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."
"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.
"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.
"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."
"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.
"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."
"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."
"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.
"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."
Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.
"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"
"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."
"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"
"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."
"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.
"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.
"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.
"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.
"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.
"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.
"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."
"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."
"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."
Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"
"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."
The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."
"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."
Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.
"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."
The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"
"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."
"But-"
"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.
"Yes, ma'am."
Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"
"We done, now?"
"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."
Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.
Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.
He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."
You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."
"I know. I will," he nods.
"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."
"I won't."
"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."
"I'll try."
You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.
"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.
"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"
"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."
"Please do."
Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."
"Don't speed, Toji."
"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.
"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.
"See ya, doll."
"Bye, mum."
The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.
You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.
You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.
Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.
"Yep."
Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.
Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."
"I'm gonna cry."
The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"
"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."
"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."
"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."
"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."
"You're being for real?"
"Of course I am."
You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."
"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"
"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."
He smirks. "Will do, doll."
6K notes · View notes
spicybutterfly · 2 months ago
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Please Don't Eat Me!
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What do you do when your longtime boyfriend turns into a werewolf right in front of you? Take off running of course!
❥ Pairing: werewolf!Jungkook x girlfriend!Reader ❥ Genre: fluff, angst, smut ❥ AUs: werewolf!au, college!au, established relationship!au ❥ Rating: M (18+)  ❥ Word Count: 12.3k  ❥ Warning/Tags: heavy angst, explicit language, explicit smut (way more than I intended), bratty reader, soft dom Jungkook, whiny Jungkook, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), fingering, male masturbation, missionary, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation  ❥ A/N: This was supposed to be posted on Halloween…oops. ;)
*Disclaimer all characters and events portrayed in my works are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.*
Copyright © 2024 Spicybutterfly
All Rights Reserved.
Thank you for reading!♡ 
The unexpected shrill chiming of your doorbell made you jump where you stood. Startled, you dropped the tube of a pretty pink lip gloss you’d just finished applying. It hit the tile floor beneath you with a firm smack before rolling away underneath the counter. 
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, bending down as far as you could to feel the floor for your lipgloss tube. Your black, skin-tight shorts didn’t allow for much movement. Neither did your long-sleeve, baby-blue top. 
“A-ha!” You cheered victoriously as your fingers grazed the plastic tube. Thankfully the cap was already twisted closed, so there wasn’t a sticky mess everywhere. Swiftly, you grabbed the lipgloss. 
Just as you were standing back up into your previous position you felt two large hands work their way into the waistband of your shorts pulling you flush against a solid, muscled chest. You shrieked, jumping again, this time in excitement. Instantly, you recognized that firm chest anywhere.
You watched through the mirror as Jungkook began to stamp feather-light kisses along the side of your neck, nosing at your skin in between. Goosebumps bloomed all over your body from the ticklish gesture. He finished off his task with a big wet kiss on the apple of your cheek. 
No one would expect such soft gestures from your boyish boyfriend. Standing at nearly six feet tall, routinely dressed in all black, with a sleeve of tattoos and both ears adorned in piercings; Jungkook was the epitome of hardcore. That is on the outside at least.
No one was a bigger softie than your boyfriend. Your favorite nickname for him was ‘Koo’ for a reason. He was your big sensitive baby. 
You loved how he was never ashamed to show how much he loved you. He wasn’t the type to shy away from affection no matter where you were or who was around. There was no such thing as personal space when you were with Jungkook. 
“Koo,” you whined, doing your best to not mess up your makeup as you wiped away the wetness on your cheek. 
A mock gasp left your boyfriend's lips. He frowned, pulling his hands from your shorts to wrap his arms around your middle. “I thought you loved my kisses.” 
After putting down the tissue in your hands, you turned to face him. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you pecked away the pout on his lips. “I do love your kisses,” you grinned at his dissatisfied face. “Just not when they’re gross and wet.” 
His big doe eyes stared at you with a gaze so intense it had your body radiating with warmth. You remember when you first started dating you could barely even look at him. But not anymore. Gone were the days when you shied away from him, too timid and inexperienced to return his gaze. Instead, you peered right back at him, hoping he could feel the same love and yearning you had for him as he did you. 
“Hey,” he breathed, his big brown eyes drinking you in. “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too.” 
It has been a few days since the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend. To many that would seem like nothing, but to you, it felt like an eternity.
 Since you two had started dating, being away from each other was an uncommon occurrence. 
You two had met through extraordinary circumstances. To make a long story short, he hit you in the face with a volleyball during gym class. You’d sustained a nasty nosebleed as a result. 
He was nearly in tears as he babbled out a flurry of apologies to you, but all you could focus on was how his muscles flexed underneath his gym shirt. You’d promised to forgive him if he’d carry you to the nurse’s office, and take you out for bubble tea after school. You’ve been inseparable since. 
With your nails, you scratched lightly at the nape of his neck - his favorite spot. Jungkook hummed in response, relishing in the feeling. You felt his arms unravel from around your middle, his hands making their way towards your hips. Effortlessly he lifted you from the ground, placing you on the bathroom counter behind you. You yelped as your skin made contact with the cold granite. Jungkook didn’t even give you a second to react before he fit his body between your legs, leaning down and slotting his lips together with yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you let yourself sink into the feeling. 
Before Jungkook, kissing was always a subpar experience for you. You wouldn’t say you hated it, but it was certainly not your favorite. You don’t miss the icky feeling of having a wet tongue unexpectedly shoved down your throat, your breasts roughly fondled (you’ve always had sensitive nipples), or your lips bitten to the point where blood was drawn. Like during a game of Spin the Bottle in seventh grade when your neighbor, Tony bit your bottom lip so hard it was bruised for the next two weeks. No one wanted to sit next to you at lunch. Damn you, Tony.
The buildup that came from kissing Jungkook was your favorite. There was just something so intimate about the way he always took his time with you. Like a dessert that needed to be savored because you just couldn’t get enough of it. 
Today though was different. Today he was fervent. 
Your hand traveled from his neck to his hair, your fingers gently tugging at the dark brown locks. Jungkook moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer so that your fronts were pressed together. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you pulled him in closer until you could feel the thickness of his bulge against your core. Your slick panties stuck uncomfortably to your sensitive skin. 
Your mouth opened in a sigh at the feeling of his thick bulge nestled against your heat. Jungkook used this opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. You welcomed him instantly as the wet muscle caressed your own, begging for any sort of attention. Playing along with him, they embraced each other, dancing together in a routine that was all too familiar to the both of you. 
Pulling away with a gasp, you gulped down a few deep breaths of air. Gently you pushed your needy boyfriend away by his chest as he tried to chase your lips. His eyes were focused but somehow also dazed. As if in a trance, he attached his lips to your sweet spot between your ear and shoulder. 
“Koo,” you whined, your hands gripping the front of his button-down shirt. The cotton fabric bunched in your palms. You jerked as he began to mouth at the smooth skin. Your breath quickened as his teeth raked over the sensitive area. God how you wanted him to just pull his dick out and have his way with you right here. Unfortunately though, you already made a commitment to be somewhere and you’d be damned if the world didn't get to see how good you looked in this costume. 
“Baby we can't,” you gasped. “We’re already late.” You doubt Jungkook heard a single word you said. Instead, he took the time to languidly suck your skin into his mouth. With your eyes rolling back, your mouth gaped open around a silent moan. The thumping between your legs was too insistent to ignore. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to ease some of the pressure. 
After a minute Jungkook pulled away, finally satisfied with his work. His lips were slightly swollen from his ministrations. Out of breath, you slumped against the mirror behind you with a thump. The new bruise forming on your neck was tender in the best way. 
“There,” he whispered breathlessly. “Now we’re ready to leave.”
──•◦❥•◦──
Why the hell hadn’t you worn a jacket? Or even a cardigan at least. The thin material of your top did nothing to shield you from the nippy October weather. You cursed yourself for not grabbing something to put on your arms. 
 After being dropped off by your Uber, you and Jungkook decided to wait outside for your friends to arrive. They were supposed to only be a few minutes behind you, but obviously, that wasn’t the case because you’d been standing out in the cold for nearly fifteen minutes. God only knows what the hell they were getting into.
Gripping Jungkook's arm, you shivered as another gush of wind rushed through. Your boyfriend leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead. “Cold?”
You nodded, nestling up into his warm body. He gladly accepted you, wrapping his arms around your body. Instantly, you melted into his warmth. “Freezing,” you corrected, the chattering of your teeth subsiding. “Baby, let's just wait for them inside. Who knows how long it’s gonna take for them to get here.”
“Hobi just texted, he said they’re about two minutes away.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I guess I’ll just suffer.” 
Jungkook’s body shook as he laughed above you. “It’s not so bad. At least you’ve got your own personal space heater.” You smiled, leaning your head down to rest against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat eased your nerves. Honestly, if you were sitting down you could probably fall asleep, which was a cherished rarity these days. After taking a gap year, you forgot about how taxing the school workload could be. A healthy work, home, and school life balance was nonexistent to you.
Frowning, something dawned on you. You peered up at Jungkook. He stood unaffected to the cold, watching as his fellow peers stumbled out of their cars towards the house. You flinched at the presence of another chilly breeze. Jungkook didn’t move an inch.  
“How are you not cold?”
 Looking down at his phone, Jungkook typed something out before pocketing the device. He shrugged. “I’m wearing pants.” 
“But you’re wearing short sleeves.” Jungkook watched as an orange maple tree leaf fell gracefully before you. It joined a pile of fallen leaves undisturbed on the ground. “I’m also wearing socks.” 
You sputtered. “Wha- Jungkook, that doesn't even make any sen-.” Just then a loud beep of a car horn interrupted you. You let out a shriek as you jumped, snapping your head towards the obnoxious sound. You were ready to flip them off before you saw the driver behind the wheel. 
Your annoyance melted away at the sight of  Hoseok’s impish grin. In the passenger’s seat was Lila, your best friend, and Hoseok’s girlfriends. She had her arm sticking out of the window, beaming as she waved at you. As soon as they parked you both made your way towards them.
“Hii,” Lila squealed, trotting towards you. With your arms wide open, you captured her in a hug, both of you squeezing tight. 
“What took you so long”, you pouted, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I was dying out here.” 
“I’m sorry,” she winced, pulling down her purple mini-dress. “I swear we were on the way, but then Hobi lost the ascot for his costume so we had to improvise. Speaking of,” she smiled as she did a 360 spin. She stopped with one hand on her hip and the other flinging a chunk of orange hair over her shoulder. 
“What do you think? Do I look like Daphne?”
 Your best friend was already gorgeous, but she looked stunning in her getup. Her usual long jet-black hair was now a muted orange. You assumed it to be a wig because it wasn’t that color when you two were on Facetime a couple of hours ago. There was a purple headband tucked neatly at the top of her head. The mini dress she was sporting did wonders for her modelesque physique. You always told her she could be a Victoria Secret’s angel. 
“You look so hot!” 
Smiling, she struck a pose, pointing the toe of her purple platform heel. “Thank you! You don’t look too bad yourself Officer Judy Hoops,” she smirked. 
You waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, this old thing?” Turning around, you wiggled your hips from side to side, making the cute little bunny tail shake behind you. “Found it in my closet.”
“Those too?” Smiling, she bit her bottom lip pointing towards Jungkook. He stood a few feet away conversing with Hobi. You assumed she was talking about the fox ears perched on his head. His costume was simple yet so effective. Who knew a green button-down shirt and a pair of khaki pants would make you want to drop your panties at any moment? You didn’t have a furry kink (that you were aware of) but damn he was the hottest Nick Wilde you’d ever seen.
“We borrowed those from my mom.”
 Laughing, your friend shook her head. “How the hell did you get them to wear those? It took until today for Hobi to agree to Fred.” She pouted, “Your boyfriend is better than mine.” 
You would never say this out loud but you agree. Not that you have anything against Hobi. He was one of your closest friends and you loved him dearly but your boyfriend was just better (this was completely unbiased of course).  
You rubbed your hands up and down your chilled arms. “It took a lot of convincing for him to dress up with me,” you lied through your teeth.
“Oh please,” your friend waved a dismissive hand. You have that boy wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything you asked.”
“Good,” you smirked. “That’s how I like 'em.” You were only joking though. The whole town knew you were just as whipped for Jungkook as he was for you.
You shivered at the feeling of a swift passing breeze. “Please let’s go inside, I'm freezing.” 
“Agreed,” she asserted. “Plus I can’t wait to see what their kitchen looks like. I heard they have marble countertops!” With your eyebrows raised you nodded, unable to contain the corners of your mouth curving upwards. You didn’t really care about the kitchen, you just needed to get out of this cold and into some heat.
You both made your way over to where the boys were standing. Lila greeted her boyfriend with a kiss on the cheek. Her pink lipgloss left a shiny stain on his skin. He smiled down at her, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.
“Hobi, why don’t you love me as much as Jungkook loves _____,” she pouted.  His eyes widened as his mouth dropped open. 
“Huh?!”
You slipped yourself underneath your boyfriend’s arms, instantly engulfed once again by his warmth. “Ready,” he asked, his warm breath tickling the apple of your cheek. 
You hummed, “If we’re out here any longer I think my nipples are gonna turn into ice cubes.” 
Jungkook smirked. “We can’t have that now can we?”  His thumb traced soft circles onto the exposed skin between your shirt and shorts. Languidly, you shook your head, peeking up at him. “Maybe you could find a way to warm them up?” 
You blamed your horniness on Jungkook, he just had that effect on you.
He licked his lip. “I’m sure I could find a way.”
“Alright people,” Hobi called, breaking you out of your little moment. “ Let’s get fucked up!!” 
──•◦❥•◦──
“Not so fast, baby.” Your boyfriend gently pried the purple-tinted shot glass away from your eager lips.
“You're going to make yourself sick,” he chided, bringing a delicate thumb to wipe away the ticklish trail of vodka dribbling down the side of your chin. 
You swallowed down the rest of the clear liquid, accepting the familiar burn that followed. Immediately your face scrunched up in distaste. Though vodka was your drink of choice you’d never get used to that burning taste. 
Jungkook placed the glass on a nearby table. He chuckled at your grimace, leaning down to brush a kiss on the tip of your nose. “That’s what you get,” he grinned. “Where’d you even get that from?”
“Lila,” you sang, licking away any remnants of alcohol on your lips. 
“Figures.”
Sticking your tongue out at him, you lightly pushed at his shoulder. “Whatever,” you muttered, swinging your body to the beat of the song. The floors beneath you vibrated with how hard the bass blared through the speakers. The playlist they had going wasn’t really your cup of tea. It reminded you of something they’d play in at a Renaissance Fair. You hadn’t recognized a single song in the couple hours you’d been here. But that didn’t bother you,  you were raised in a household that could get down to anything. 
Swaying your hips from side to side, you gripped the tie around your boyfriend’s neck. Your vision was slightly fuzzy around the edges, no doubt from the several shots and one full drink you’d inhaled once you’d arrived.
“Dance with me?” You purred before taking a step towards your boyfriend. You stumbled, seemingly tripping over an imaginary object, nearly falling face-first to the ground.
“Woah,” Jungkook grasped your hips, steadying your involuntarily swaying body. Your fingers grasped his arms tightly. In your chest, your heart thumped as they made contact with the veins in his arm. God, he was so hot. 
“I think that’s enough for you for tonight.” 
Your eyes widened, slightly glassy. “But m’ not even drunk!” 
He hummed unconvinced. “Yeah, but it won’t take you long to get there.” Jungkook pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the notification on the screen. “We have to leave soon anyway. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
A frown adorned your features before your tipsy mind could even think of stopping it. “You do?” This was news to you. “Where are you going?”
He avoided your eyes, opting to stare at the bunny ears perched on top of your head. He shrugged. “Somewhere. It’s no biggie.”
“Can I come too?” You hated how needy you sounded. You weren’t a clingy girlfriend at all. If anything, Jungkook was the clingy one. It's just for the past few weeks you’ve barely spent any time together and whatever time you did spend as a couple you were the one to initiate it. Just like tonight. Getting him to wear matching costumes might not have taken a lot of convincing sure, but getting him to come to this party did. He really put up a fight to not come here with you, only finally agreeing when you mentioned you would come with one of your guy friends. Possessive little shit. 
Jungkook reached out a hand to caress your chin. “Not this time, baby. I’m sorry.” 
You shook your head. “No, it's fine,” you assured, fingering the blue tie resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes. “We can leave now if you're ready. I think I’ve had enough for tonight.” Your gaze remained downcast as you swallowed away the lump in your throat. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was frowning. 
“You sure, baby? We can stay a little longer. I know you really wanted t-.” Before he could finish you shook your head once more, pushing his hand away from your face. 
“I’m kinda tired anyway.” 
You knew you didn't believe you. He damn near knows you better than you know yourself. You just weren’t in the mood for another argument. Lately, it seems as if that’s all you two ever did. Flirt, argue, fuck, argue some more, fuck again, and then right back to flirting.
You pulled your hands away from him. “Let me just say bye to Lila.” You didn’t wait for him to respond, instead, you left him standing there in search of your friend.
 Begrudgingly, you made your way through the sea of sweaty bodies, scanning the crowd for anyone sporting a purple mini-dress. Smoke emerging from the hidden fog machine made it difficult to see clearly. The tipsy crowd surrounding you cheered, as the intro of a familiar song began to play. ‘Listen to this track bitch!’ Of course they’d play the good music when you’re about to leave. 
Your journey was halted by a tall, burly body dressed in a football uniform stepping in front of you. You jerked, taking a step back to allow space between you two. The urge to roll your eyes consumed your whole being as soon as you recognized who it was. 
Elijah stood before you, with a cold beer clasped in his right hand. The arrogant asshole didn’t even bother to put on a proper costume.
 He yelled your name, grinning widely. You didn’t have time to react before he was wrapping himself around you in a one-sided hug. You cringed at the feeling of his sweaty body pressed against yours. His left hand rested dangerously low on your lower back. You pushed him away with a hand on his chest, separating yourself from him. 
“Hey, I didn’t know you would be here!” That was a lie. He’d heard you and Lila talking about attending this party earlier today in class. He’d even expressed how he’d be coming too, even though no one asked.
“I could’ve sworn you heard me say I was coming earlier.” Your mind wasn’t sober enough to care about sparing his feelings especially since he just wouldn’t take a hint. I mean, how many times do you have to reject someone for them to understand? 
“Oh, right,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I forgot.” You nodded, unamused. “Anyway, I’m glad to see you.” 
You couldn’t say the same.
“Like my costume?” He flexed his biceps, the muscle jumping at the action. There wasn’t a stirring in your belly like your boyfriend did it. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect. “Your football uniform doesn’t count as a costume.”
“Ehh, the ladies love it, so who cares.” What ladies was he referring to? You would never know.
 He tilted his head towards a group of people dancing, or as your grandmother would say, gyrating in the living room. “Wanna dance with me?” He shimmed from side to side, biting his bottom lip. You couldn’t decide if he was in pain or if he was trying to be sexy. You’d had enough of this conversation.
“Elijah, I have a boyfriend. You do know that, right?” 
He nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “What, your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” You scuffed. What a played-out line. 
“I have to go,” you deadpanned, moving around him. “So, I’ll see you later,” you heard him call behind you.
You didn’t bother to turn around. “You won’t!”
 If you were in a bad mood before, you were certainly in an even worse one now. The audacity of him! When would he get it through his thick skull that you did not like him?! He better be thankful that you wouldn’t allow your boyfriend to beat him up. He’s been itching to do that ever since he found out about Elijah’s persistent crush on you. 
You weren’t surprised to find your bestfriend in the kitchen. The culinary student always seemed to wind up there whenever you were at some sort of event hosted at a house.
She stood at the counter, swaying he hips to the beat of the song as she made another biter-tasting drink. Because her back was facing the doorway she didn’t see you come in.
“Lila.”
“Hey,” she chirped, turning around. “You ready for an-,”. At the first sight of your facial expression she frowned, putting down the red solo cup and a bottle of Tequila. “What’s wrong?” 
“We’re leaving,” you rubbed your lips against each other. The motion was a bit dull as most of your lipgloss has either dried up or been licked away. “Apparently Jungkook  has somewhere to be.” 
Lila frowned, her eyebrows nearly touching. She tapped her phone awake. “At 2:30 in the morning?” You didn’t respond. “ _____, that’s sketchy.” 
“I know.” Your voice shook as you tried to explain. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought.
 “And he won’t even,” you took in a deep quivering breath. “He won’t even tell me where he’s going.” You blinked up at the ceiling, attempting to keep your tears at bay. “He always does this to me. Everything will be good and then out of nowhere, he gets distant. Then I don’t hear from him for days.”
 Your fingers picked at a stray hair on your sweater. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh honey,” your friend engulfed you in her arms. “How long has he been doing this?”
You pulled away, wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were now flowing from the corners of your eyes. “Since we’ve been dating.” 
Your friend gasped at your admission. “_____, it’s been three years!” 
“I know!” Bringing both hands up to cover your face you groaned aloud. Certainly, no one could hear you with how loud the music was. 
How ridiculous this whole situation must seem- crying over your boyfriend in a stranger’s kitchen dressed as a police officer bunny with Kendrick Lamar blaring over the speakers all while barely sober enough to stand. Gotta love being in your early twenties. 
“So then he needs to fucking explain himself! Or at least tell you where he’s going.” 
“I-,” Before you could finish your phone vibrated from your back pocket. Pulling it out you down at the device. You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at the contact name on the screen. “I should probably go.” You turned the phone around, showing your friend the screen of Jungkook calling you. 
She scuffed as you shoved your phone back into your pocket. Lila pulled you into another hug. “Please keep me updated. Don’t let him walk all over you like this. You need to stand up for yourself.” 
Oh trust, this was definitely going to be addressed and it would most likely lead to another stupid argument. 
You found Jungkook standing exactly where you left him. His jaw was clenched, both hands resting in his pockets. With the way they bulged, you could tell they were clenched into fists. What was his problem?
His eyes were fixed on you the entire time, never looking away. Jungkook exhaled before speaking. “Why do you smell just like him?”
“Huh? Like who?”
“Elijah,” he asserted.
“How do you even know what he smells like?” 
“Doesn’t matter. Is that what took you so long?” Wait was he seriously mad at you right now? “Why are you being so rude to me?” 
Jungkook didn’t respond. He stuck his hand out for you to take. “We should go. Our Uber is outside.” You didn’t spare him a single glance as you walked right past him towards the front door, him hot on your heels.
──•◦❥•◦──
Thank god this Uber had a functioning heater. You swear you were starting to feel the beginnings of hypothermia biting at your toes.  You’d never take a jacket for granted again.
The atmosphere inside of the car was awkward and stuffy. Though not because of the heater or the Uber driver’s questionable taste in podcasts. Without a doubt, he was certainly an attendee of those anti-women’s rights rallies that are always held downtown. A major downside of living in a small, religious town. He wasn’t getting rated five stars. 
Neither Jungkook nor you have spoken a word to each other since you left the party. There was nothing left for you to say to him. Jungkook remained firm on not giving you any details about his plans. No matter how much you probed for the answers he remained vague. 
So you gave him the silent treatment. 
You knew it was juvenile but you couldn't help but feel that maybe he deserved it. After all, why should you respond to anything if he can’t even answer a simple question? Maybe now he would know how it feels to be ignored. 
Beside you Jungkook sighed deeply, breaking the awkward momentary silence in the car. You heard him shifting in his seat, his knee brushed against yours as he turned his body towards you. You could feel him staring at the side of your face but you were still too pissed off to even acknowledge him.
 He placed his hand on your knee, caressing the exposed skin. “I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you earlier. I was wrong and you didn’t deserve that. I’m also sorry we had to leave early, I promise I’ll make it up to you, baby.”
Whatever. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you continued scrolling through reels on Instagram. You stopped on a video tutorial of how to wax your brows at home. You were long overdue for a maintenance day. 
“Are you seriously not going to talk to me?” Silently, you skimmed through the comments. 
From the front seat, your driver cleared his throat. You would feel bad for making him uncomfortable in his own car if it wasn’t for the bullshit, misogynistic podcast playing in the background. Just because the volume was low doesn't mean you couldn’t hear it.  
You ignored your boyfriend as he called your name. Jungkook scuffed, shaking his head. “Unfuckingbelievable,” he growled. 
Your neck nearly snapped with how fast you turned towards him. If Jungkook was a stranger, the look on his face would have scared you. His eyebrows were pulled together into something furious, and the way his lips were downturned almost appeared…painful. You’ve never seen him look so angry before. But you knew your boyfriend and you knew he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you. So your attitude remained. 
“Is there something you need to get off your chest?” 
The tension in his brows loosened. Restlessly his tongue probed the inside of his cheek, replacing the frown. The anger in his features was still present, just not as intense as before. 
Subconsciously your eyes followed the indentation. Something stirred inside you. You might be furious but you weren’t blind. He looked sexy as hell when he did that. 
“You are such a fucking child sometimes,” he hissed. Reaching up, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, snatching off the fox ears in the process. 
You frowned, scuffing. “Excuse me?” 
“You know, I am so sick of your shit!” Jungkook's voice rang out within the car. Stunned you gasped. You’ve had arguments before but Jungkook has never talked to you like that. He’s never even raised his voice at you. Where was all of this coming from?
“Throwing a fucking tantrum because I didn’t tell you where I’m going. What, do you need an alert for when I’m taking a shit now too? Would that satisfy you? Newsflash _____, I don’t need to tell you everything about my life. You’re not my fucking mother.” 
A heavy silence hung in the air.
The car halted at a red light. The tires screeched loudly at the sudden stop. The both of you jerked forward in the backseat. Instinctively you reached your hand out to prevent your face from smacking into the passenger’s seat in front of you. At the same time, Jungkook's arm shot out across your frame, halting you from moving any further. Your eyes burned with unshed tears. With your phone gripped in your hand, you gnawed at your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling or any unwanted sounds from escaping. 
A quick look through the car windows showed you were a short distance away from your house. To your right, you recognized the trail that led into a small densely packed forest. You’d taken this trial countless times before as a shortcut from your house, to the inner city, and back. Only that was in the daytime when it was bright and sunny and there were people out. Now it was ten minutes till three in the morning. You’d seen not one single person out on the streets since you made it back to the outskirts of your town. You were for damn sure there was no one in the forest either. 
At least you hoped. 
Against your better judgment, you pulled the lock back on the car door before throwing it open. 
“Um, ma’am?!” You heard your Uber driver yell as Jungkook called after you right before you slammed the car door shut. Your body was instantly overtaken by the cold again. Why the fuck didn’t you wear a jacket?! 
The sound of your shoes smacking against the pavement as you trudged across the quiet street, was booming. You approached the eerie trail with a quickness, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t follow behind you. That hope was quickly diminished however when the slamming of a door and a car speeding off came from behind you. You marched further into the thick forest, following the worn dirt trail. The dull street light at the start of the trail only offered a few meters of illumination. During the day you didn’t need to worry about how you would see as the sun was always out. Now replaced by the moon, darkness loomed over the tall trees and thick shrubbery that bordered the trail. 
 Crunching leaves filled the silence around you as Jungkook finally caught up with you. “Are you insane? That was so ridiculous?!” 
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Jungkook gripped your hand, turning your body to face him. That nasty glare was present on his face again. Your heart skipped a beat. 
You snatched your hand away, “Don’t fucking touch me!” 
You turned to complete your walk back, but you weren’t done. Your anger was back in full force and you demanded answers. Facing him fully again, you pointed an accusatory finger at him. “How dare you? How dare you fucking speak to me that way, Jungkook?! All because I asked you a question? A question that I as your girlfriend deserve an answer to.”
He chuckled bitterly, rolling his eyes. “Cut the theatrics, _____. I’m over it.” He checked the time on his phone again. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”
You scuffed, shaking your head. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you.” Was he insane? With the way he was acting, he was lucky you didn’t dump his sorry ass right there. 
His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. Bringing both hands up, he gripped his brown locks so hard you thought he would tear his hair out. 
“Why do you have to make things so difficult?” He groaned out bent over at the waist. Jungkook stood up straight again, staring you dead in the eyes. A cold chill ran down your spine. “Let’s. Go. I have somewhere to be.” 
“Where?” You were standing toe to toe with him.
“It doesn't matter, we need to go. Now.”
“No!”
“I’m serious, _____ we-.”
“Fuck you Jungkook, I’m not going!” Too focused on being stubborn, you missed the way Jungkook’s body twitched involuntarily. With his eyes closed he sucked in a deep breath. “Baby, you have to g-.” Another twitch. “No! I’m not going until you tell me.”
He called your name again. “Baby, please you need to- you have to-” 
“I’m not! Where are y-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You jumped, and your eyes widened in shock. The distant squawk of crows flying away echoed in the background. Stunned, you watched silently as Jungkook collapsed to his knees, panting. Both of his hands gripped the ground in front of him, his knuckles white with how tight he was holding on. You flinch as what sounded like bones snapping filled the chilly air. Piercing groans and gasps of pain escape Jungkook's open mouth. His body twitched and jerked in various directions. 
The feeling of your heart hammering in your chest made you feel nauseous. What the fuck was going on?!
With one final gasp of air, he stopped, and you were once more surrounded by that haunting stillness. You wrapped your arms around yourself again. You didn’t even notice the cold anymore. 
You took a cautious step towards your panting boyfriend. “Koo,” you called, your voice trembling. You took a few more crunching steps until you were right in front of him. “Baby? Are you okay?”
Slowly he lifted his head, revealing himself to you. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat. With eyes as wide as saucers, you brought both of your hands up to cover your mouth.
Long, sharp fangs replaced the canine teeth in his upper and lower jaws. His beautiful, brown boba eyes - one of your favorite parts about him- were gone, in its place were piercing deep golden eyes that were locked on you. Thick dark brown fur began penetrating through his skin, covering the rest of his blemish-free face to the rest of his body. Gone was your boyfriend as you knew him, in his place was something inhuman!
In a steady voice, a cross between human and ferocious, he whispered out  a gravely, “Run.”
You didn’t have time to think or to even scream in terror. Before your mind could even register you were fleeing down the dirt path towards your house. Your feet pounded the uneven ground beneath you. The light from the streetlight has now completely faded. The only illumination came from above you, the brilliant face of the moon exposed. Jungkook screamed out once more, a thundering shout before it ended in what sounded to you like a wolf’s howl. 
The heavy thumping of footsteps picked up from behind you. What sounded like two eerily turned into four, running at a speed that was inexplicably fast. You heard the beast growl right behind you. It was so hot on your tail that you felt like it could reach out and grab you at any moment. Just up ahead you could see the end of the trail. You could cry in relief.
Your comfort was only short-lived. Before you could take another step forward, the front of your right shoe got caught on a sizable rock. It felt like your world was moving in slow motion as you were totally knocked off balance. Reaching both arms out in front of you, you braced yourself for your inevitable fall. Your body hit the solid ground with a hard smack, your right ankle twisting painfully in the process. You were so close. You were almost free.
Only then did you scream. 
Clutching your right ankle, you gasped down deep breaths of air. Sharp pain traveled hotly throughout your body. “Fuck,” you wailed, your vision blurry with tears. The blood rushing in your ears made it hard to hear anything, the world around you almost wholly muffled. The presence of a wolf was unknown to you until you heard it huff out an exhale. The horrifying creature stood at least eight feet tall on all fours. It was covered entirely in thick burnt umber fur. Drool leaked from its opened mouth, like gooey honey oozing off of a honey dipper. Its piercing golden eyes were trained solely on you. The creature slowly made its way towards you. 
You gasped, scooting backward on your feet and hands until the pain in your ankle was unbearable. The burning in your lungs was incessant with each breath you sucked down. Before you, the wolf huffed another exhale. He was so close now you could feel its warm breath tickling your face. Its teeth were bared like it was ready to bite. Leaning its head down, his long snout nosed its way between your neck and shoulder. Pushing your head up, it sniffed harshly at your skin. You closed your eyes, just waiting for the moment it decided to attack. 
“Plea-se,” you begged, your voice cracking at the end. You heaved as your entire body trembled in fear. “Please don’t- don’t hurt me.”
The wolf leaned away from you. There seemed to be a glint of recognition in his eyes. You had to be losing your mind. 
He huffed again, sitting back on his hind legs. You wanted to scream as it released another deafening howl. Then, just like magic, it was gone as if it was never there in the first place. 
Your boyfriend sat naked in its place. A look of horror was written all over his face. He brought both hands up to cradle your face. You jumped at the sudden action. For a split second, he looked slightly wounded but then the concern was back. 
 “Baby! Are you okay?!” Gently his thumbs whipped away the tears staining your cheeks. Each of your hands wrapped around his wrists. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?!” He checked you frantically, looking for any signs of injuries. You were speechless, the only thing you could do was heave breathlessly into the cool open air. 
“Baby please,” he pleaded. “Say something, breath!” There was a steady ringing in your ears. Jungkook’s mouth was closing and opening as if he was speaking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything. Everything was silent. The corners of your vision were obscured by an approaching darkness. You blinked rapidly to try and keep yourself alert until it consumed you completely.
──•◦❥•◦──
Drowsily, your eyes blinked open. Your vision was still fuzzy around the edges as you took in your surroundings. The room was dark but familiar. It didn’t take you long to realize that you were inside your bedroom. Somehow you must have made it home. You looked down at yourself. And changed clothes? Except your bra was still on. It was uncomfortably snug on your skin. There was a reason you never slept with a bra on. With ease you unhooked the clasp, placing it on the bed beside you.
You threw the thick blankets and duvet completely off of you, body all too warm now. There was an incessant pounding in your head. Groaning, you brought your hand up to clutch at the aching spot. There was a dull ache in your right ankle.
“Baby,” a delicate voice called from the corner of your room. It was Jungkook. “Are you awake?” Suddenly, the memories of what happened came rushing back to you. 
Your boyfriend turned into a fucking werewolf right in front of you and nearly attacked you. 
With a hammering heart, you scooted backward until your back came in contact with your headboard. He approached the side of the bed you were on cautiously, sitting down gently in the open space in front of you. His big brown orbs were back but were now swimming with sadness at the sight of you drawing your knees into yourself. 
He nibbled at his bottom lip. “There’s some pain reliever and a glass of water on your nightstand.”
 A moment passed before you reached for the pill bottle and water. You didn’t take your eyes off of Jungkook the entire time. He looked disheveled. His previously neat hair was a mess like he’d been running his fingers through it constantly. His eyes were glossy and red-rimmed. You doubt he’d gotten any sleep. Gone was his Nick Wilde costume. You assumed it was destroyed during the transformation. He was now sporting a plain black tee and matching sweats. 
You didn’t realize how parched you were until you were gulping down the rest of the room-temperature water. A few dribbles of water escaped your lips, trailing down your chin. With the back of your hand, you wiped your mouth, catching your breath. Jungkook took the empty glass from you, placing it back on the nightstand. For a while, the room was still. Neither of you decided to break the silence first. To be honest, you didn’t know what to say.
“Are you afraid of me?” 
The immediate short answer was no. There wasn’t anything in this world that could make you afraid of your boyfriend. He was the absolute love of your life. You knew he would never do anything to hurt you intentionally.
You were however afraid of what he was capable of. He was a literal werewolf! If he wanted to he could tear you into pieces. What if he didn’t recognize it was you? What would have happened then? You couldn’t help those questions swimming through your mind. “I don’t know.” His head dropped down as his eyes closed. 
It was silent for another moment. “Since when?” 
Jungkook shook his head confused. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. 
You continued. “Since when don’t we tell each other everything?” You swallowed thickly, referring to earlier in the night. You couldn’t help the emotion that trembled through your voice. “Why would you keep this from me, Jungkook? For so long.” 
He looked away from you. His eyes danced around the room before he responded. “I don’t know, I just-. I wanted to keep you safe.”
You couldn’t help the fury building inside of you. “You call that keeping me safe! You almost killed me!” Using both of your arms you gestured towards your bedroom window. 
“What!” 
Jungkook shook his head frantically. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. Baby, I would never! I knew it was you. Please believe me I would never hurt.” His eyes pleaded with yours, begging for you to believe him. And you wanted to so badly, but he’d already hurt you just not physically.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” He shook his head. “I was trying to leave. I was- I was going to drop you home and then I-I was…” he trailed off looking everywhere except at you.
“You were going to shift,” you finished for him. Wordlessly he nodded. 
The room was silent again with the occasional squeak from your ceiling fan. In front of you, Jungkook sighed.
 “You know,” you started, your boyfriend looking up at you. “This whole time I thought that I did something wrong.” You scrunched a chunk of your duvet beneath your fingertips. “I just couldn't understand what was wrong. I mean you were so hot and cold with me, it was jarring.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I thought that maybe you were getting tired of me or something…maybe even seeing someone else.” Sighing, you slowly released a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding. 
It felt amazing to finally get that off your chest, to finally express how you were truly feeling, and to have him listen. 
Your gaze was trained downward. You weren’t looking at anything specifically, you just wanted to avoid his eyes - something you hadn’t done in years. 
Jungkook gasped quietly. “_____, I would never,” he pleaded, his eyes borrowing into yours. 
Rapidly you nodded your head. “I know,” you sniffled. “I just…I didn’t know what to think. You left me in the dark Jungkook.”
 Firmly, he grasped both of your hands in his. “Baby, look at me.” Your gaze remained downcast. He gently squeezed your hands in his, urging you to look at him. “Please.” When your eyes met his, your breath nearly hitched. He was looking at you with a soft longing. The pure adoration for you swimming in his eyes was undeniable. Gone was the anger and frustration. This was your Jungkook.
“I would never-,” he shook his head. “I could never. Baby, you mean everything to me. You are my entire world.” Gently with his thumbs, he wiped away your salty tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I scared you and I’m so sorry if you ever felt I didn’t love you because that is the furthest thing from the truth. You are the love of my life; the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am so infatuated with you that I don’t know how to live without you.” 
The tears blurring your vision threatened to spill as you listened to the words of your boyfriend. “Please understand that none of this is your fault. This is all because of me. I failed to communicate with you properly and I’m sorry. _____, I’m sorry.” Jungkook stared at you, desperately waiting for you to respond with something, anything. 
You said nothing. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, bringing his lips to meet yours. You believed him—of course you did—and hoped he could feel everything you wanted to say. 
 You pulled away with a faint smack. “Is this okay?” you whispered, desperately searching his eyes for an answer. Taking a page from your book, he remained silent, swifty reattaching his lips to yours. His usually pillowy-soft lips were slightly chapped but still felt like heaven against yours. Immediately, all the stress and worries began to wash away.
He responded eagerly to the kiss, scooting closer to you and wrapping his arms around your middle. Effortlessly, he pulled you into his firm lap. Your hands curled into his cotton shirt instinctively. 
You pulled your hands from his shirt to tangle one in his hair, the other scratching gently at the nape of his neck. Jungkook sighed against your mouth, his breath tickling your chin. His mouth moved against yours tenderly, 
For a moment, you two savored the kiss, basking in each other's warmth and presence. Content sighs and soft moans escaped the both of you filling the air around you. 
Your mind was blank and fuzzy; filled with nothing but Jungkook. The way he smelled- clean with a slight hint of cologne, how gently he was kissing you, how much he loved you, the way his body fit perfectly against your own. 
The kiss was so innocent, soft, and gentle, yet your panties grew slicker with each second that passed. Beneath you, you could feel that your boyfriend was just as affected. He had been grinding his semi against you for several minutes now, pressing your damp panties into your sensitive, eager bud. It was so delicate, you were sure he had to be doing it subconsciously. 
Slowly you pulled away, opening your eyes. As he gazed at you, the dreamy look in his eyes sent pleasant tingles throughout your body. How this boy still managed to give you butterflies after years of being together is beyond you. 
“Koo,” you whispered, finger curling around a lock of his luscious hair. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his kiss-swollen lips. Slowly you ran a thumb over his bottom lip as you bit your own. 
“Hmm?” His hands continued their journey up and down your sides. Mind still clouded with all things Jungkook, it took a moment for your brain to formulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence.
 “I want you.”
His breath hitched as his hands stopped momentarily. You could see his features darken right before you. A glint of mischievousness shone in his eyes. With an arched brow, his hands continued their journey. “Yeah? Are you sure that’s what you want, pretty?” 
You shuttered at the nickname. “Please,” you begged, all shame and self-respect now completely thrown out the window. “I want you to fuck me.”
You took his hands into yours, guiding them to your supple breasts. He wasted no time, instantly fondling the squishy mounds in his large palms. You sighed as his thumbs deliberately brushed against your hardened nipples, begging to be released from the confines of your cotton shirt.
 You purred, “I need you, baby. Don’t you want me too?” 
The look in his eyes was damn near feral. “Always,” he rasped, pinching the stiffened peaks between his thumb and pointer fingers. You gasped, your brows pinching together in pleasure. “I always want you. Fuck, I can never get enough of you.” He pressed his mouth upon yours, pulling you into a searing kiss. Teasingly, he pulled away leaving you to chase after his lips.
 “Koo,” you whined, gripping his shirt to reconnect your lips. He tsked, capturing both of your wrists into his grasp.
 “Don’t be greedy,” he tutted, leaning down to kiss away the pout on your lips. “I always give you what you need.” He let go of your wrists, and with his other hand, you felt him tug at the bottom of your t-shirt. “Take this off.” 
Without a second wasted you peeled the fabric from your body, casually tossing it somewhere beyond your line of sight. With your bare chest now exposed to the cool temperature in your bedroom, goosebumps blossomed all over your skin. 
Jungkook leaned down to nose between the valley of your breasts. You giggled as he sniffed at your skin, brushing his hair away from his face “You’re such a weirdo.” 
You felt him smile against you. “Can’t help it, literally,” he chuckled inhaling deeply. “Plus you always smell so fucking good.” You hummed, fingers raking through his hair. It must be a part of his wolfie instincts.
 Your eyes fluttered shut as he began to pepper kisses all around your breasts, always just missing where you needed him the most. Once he was satisfied with his work, Jungkook finally wrapped his lips around your awaiting nipple. Your mouth dropped open around a moan as your head lulled back. He groaned at the feeling of your hand tightening in his hair. His skilled fingers tweaked your other nipple, ensuring it received the same amount of attention.
“Fuck, Koo,” you shivered, your free hand reaching down to grip his length. He always took such good care of you, you wanted to make him feel good too. Now completely erect, it stood at its full potential, tenting his sweatpants. He was rock hard and so damn thick you couldn’t wrap your hand around him completely. Even through the material of his sweatpants, you could feel the prominent veins running along his shaft. He certainly wasn’t wearing any underwear. Your mouth watered. 
Jungkook scowled, just as if he had eaten something delicious, groaning around a mouth full of your breast. He released your nipple with a wet pop. “Feels good baby,” he rasped. 
Within the next second your back collided with the plushness of your mattress. You shrieked, hands shooting out to steady yourself. 
“Can’t wait to be inside you,” Jungkook smirked from above you. He then pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Slowly, your eyes raked over your boyfriend, taking a moment to fully appreciate the view before you. You never thought you had a type, but god Jungkook was everything you never knew you needed in a man. 
Tiny sporadic beads of sweat gathered along his skin. They looked like diamonds dancing in the moonlight that peeked through your curtains. His body always ran warmer and after the events of tonight, you understand why. His sleeve of tattoos decorated his skin beautifully, a far better accessory than any piece of jewelry could ever be. Concealing a moan behind a bitten lip, you watched as the muscles in his beefy arms jumped as he pulled down his sweatpants, freeing his length. Your pussy fluttered at the sight; it was just as beautiful as the rest of him. 
The first time you and Jungkook had sex you were afraid he wouldn’t fit inside of you. He was so long and thick it almost seemed unreal. Though with the proper prep, you were able to take him, and let's just say no one had ever made you cum from just penetration before.
His dick rested on his tummy, standing tall and flushed. He was so hard it almost looked painful. His mushroom tip glistened with pre-cum. You desperately wanted to swallow it all up.
 You sat up on your elbows, your own eyes clouded with lust. “May I have a taste?”  
You almost moaned aloud as Jungkook gripped his dick in his hand, giving himself two long strokes making sure to flick his wrist at the tip. You caught a glimpse of his beautiful scowl before his head dropped forward, his abs flexing in pleasure. 
“Fuck,” you heard him chuckle breathly giving himself one final squeeze. He shook his head. Slowly he lifted his head, his wavy bangs falling over his eyes. Your heart lurched in your chest. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, settling in front of your open legs.
“Me first,” he smirked and you knew you were fucked. 
No one in the world could eat pussy like your boyfriend. He was the definition of an eater, always so eager to deliver the most pleasure possible. Sometimes you thought he enjoyed it more than you did. 
After delivering one successful orgasm to you with his mouth, he had you teetering on the edge of another. 
The echos of his efforts bounced off of the walls around you. He worked his fingers diligently inside of you, alternating between thrusting and scissoring them apart. The soppy sounds flowing from your cunt had you flushed all over. But you were far too close to cumming to be embarrassed. Languidly he swirled his tongue around your clit whilst both of his digits massaged your inner walls thoroughly. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, sending another gush of your arousal to coat his hand. Unshed tears began to gather along your lash line. 
“Jungkook,” you mewled wetly, eyes slamming shut as your back arched off of your bed. You licked at your lips, now dry from how hard you breathed through your open mouth. “Koo, baby I’m so close!” Jungkook moaned around you, sending a delicious stream of vibrations through your pussy. 
A steady smacking rhythm from below you caught your attention. It sounded wet and sloppy. Was he…? You gasped looking down to confirm your wicked thoughts. Through your blurry vision, you were rewarded with the sight of Jungkook fisting his veiny cock to the same rhythm he was fingering you. With each upward stroke, a trail of pre-cum dribbled from his tip onto his fingers. Oh how bad you wanted them in your mouth.
His tongue laved up slowly through your folds, the wet muscle flicking at your clit gently in the end. “So fucking good,” he muttered against you, almost to himself. Just as he reached down to fondle his balls, he sucked your clit wholly into his mouth.
Your hips canted up, pushing yourself further into the pleasure. Firmly holding you down, he croaked his fingers up, directly massaging the spongy area that had you seeing stars. Still attached to you, Jungkook groaned as your fingers tangled tighter in his hair. He pulled away from your pussy, his reddened lips and chin glistened with your arousal. “That feels good, pretty?” 
You nodded rapidly, as your breath hiccuped. “Uh-huhh~! Gonna make me come, baby.”
“Yeah?” His wrist was now snapping against you, fingers curling with precision to repeatedly stroke against your g-spot. “Make a mess for me baby. Show me how beautiful you are when you come.”
There was an incessant pressure building and building in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as your face scrunched in pleasure. Your back bowed as Jungkook delivered one last stroke against that spot, so good that it sent you right over the edge.  Your walls fluttered around him, sucking his fingers in with a vice grip.
You came with a strangled shout, a slurred mess of what was supposed to be his name as your toes curled in the bedsheets. “Fuck! Koo-uhn!”
But he wasn’t done with you yet. His insatiable hunger couldn’t be sated until you were writhing, gasping for breath underneath him. He wanted you to be so dizzy with pleasure that you couldn’t remember your own name. He wanted to ruin you. He wanted it- no he needed it. He needed it so fucking bad. 
Somehow, he sucked at you harder, pushing your hips into the bed. Your body trembled, completely helpless to the overstimulation you were receiving. Inside, his fingers didn’t slow their pace, still plunging into your sopping cunt. His tongue, soaked with his saliva and your essence, rubbed figure eights into your aching clit. You hiccuped out moan after babbled moan, no longer able to properly articulate a single word.
 “One more pretty, give me one more. Please? Can you do that for me?” This man was trying to kill you. You were literally being eaten alive by your boyfriend, the irony. 
Like ferocious waves crashing onto a sandy beach, your orgasm wracked through you. The air was completely knocked out of your lungs. You were unable to make a single sound, as your mouth fell open. You thought you must’ve looked like a mad woman with your eyes rolled back and your back arched completely off of your bed. Though to Jungkook, you couldn't look more beautiful. With your hair fanned out around, heavy breasts jiggling as you gasped for breath, your skin glimmering from a thin sheen of sweat, the blissed-out expression on your face - you were a sight to be marveled at.
 Jungkook didn’t pull away until you were whimpering, pushing at his head, as you feebly scooted away from him. Gulping breaths of air, you slumped onto your mattress, now slightly damp with sweat. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as you stared up in a daze at your bedroom ceiling. 
Gently, he pulled his fingers from your thumping core, slowly dragging them up through your folds in the process. He popped his fingers into his mouth, his tongue licking away your arousal coated on his digits. With a lewd smacking sound he pulled them from his mouth. He positioned his body over you, fitting himself in between your open legs. You shivered as the head of his dick nudged your pussy.
“Good girl,” he whispered, caressing your thighs down to your butt. “Was that okay? It wasn’t too much was it?” You hummed, still sated from your three succeeding orgasms. “M’ good baby,” you exhaled, your breath starting to even out. “That was amazing.” 
Jungkook smiled and your heart fluttered. “Yeah?” He squeezed a handful of your right cheek. Without warning, his hand collided with the fatty meat of your ass, a loud smack resounding in the room. “Love this ass.” You yelped, flinching at the sudden brisk pain. His hand stroked over the sore spot. “You should let me eat that too.” Your eyes widened. You weren’t completely opposed to that idea. 
“Mmm, you’re a munch.” Jungkook snorted, leaning over to peck your lips twice. “Only for you though.” 
“Damn right.”
You opened your eyes to gaze up at him. He looked at peace. There was a faint trace of a smile on his lips. His orbs were scanning you, drinking you in. 
“Still want this dick?” 
You nodded, caressing over his chest and neck. Your hand fell as he stood on his knees hovering over your body. You bit your bottom lip as he reached down to squeeze the base of his dick. He huffed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before reopening. 
“Yes, please. I need it, baby. Can’t wait any longer.” You were not too proud to beg. If your boyfriend didn’t get inside of you soon you were going to lose your mind. Future you will certainly cringe at how needy you were being though. 
He guided his tip through your dripping core, slowly dragging up and down and then back up again to circle your achy clit. 
You hissed as your legs fell open wider. “Are you sure?” with a free hand he pushed away the hair falling over his face. “I would think three orgasms is enough, no?” There was a pleased smirk on his face. He was enjoying this little game of teasing you. 
“Koo,” you whined, hooking your legs over his hips to draw him in closer. Your breath hitched as his tip caught on your entrance.
“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “How can I deny you when you beg so nicely?”
 Smoothly he slid into you inch after gratifying inch. He filled you to the brim, the stretch was so good you could come on the spot. Your walls avidly accepted him, sucking him in without much resistance at all. You could feel every thick, prominent vein running along his cock. Your brows pinched together as your head fell back onto your pillow.
“Fuck,” Jungkook drawled out as your warm pussy gripped him tight. “How do you always feel so fucking good, hmm?” Sinful moans rolled freely from his tongue, the heat and wetness of your cunt had his head reeling. He was teetering on the edge of an orgasm without even getting to properly fuck you yet. 
You squirmed underneath him, before canting your hips up to grind on his dick. “Jungkook,” you huffed, frustration clear in your voice. He raised his eyebrow, letting you work yourself on his cock for a moment. Without a single word, he slid out of you almost completely, tip barely still snug in your walls. You almost complained at the absence of him until he slid back into your pussy filling you deeper than before. You could cry in relief.
“Fuck,” you yelped, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to before they settled on his shoulders. 
“My greedy baby,” he purred, voice dripping with lust. He gave you two more long strokes. You gasped into the open air. “You just needed to be fucked right? All you needed was this dick?” You nodded, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “I need it, baby please.”
 “Don’t worry pretty,” his smirk was sinful, almost devilish. “I’ll give you what you want.” The two of you fell into a heated, frantic rhythm, incredibly desperate to feel one another. The wet smacking sounds of your bodies colliding could only be described as sonorous. Above you, you watched as Jungkook worked his hips into you expertly, never failing to hit every sensitive spot you didn’t even know existed inside you. You were so worked up, that you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your peak again.
 Tiny beads of sweat were beginning to run down the sides of his face from his excursion. His scowl was present again, mouth wide open to allow unabashed moans to fall freely from his lips. He always moaned so sweetly. 
He hit you at an angle so deep, that you both moaned in response. “Uhn, Koo! Love the way you fuck me, baby,” you trembled in his hold. 
“I love it more baby,” he grunted, grinding his hips into yours.
Grabbing your hand into his, he brought it up to his lips to kiss the back of it. Halting his movements for a brief second, he leaned down to capture your lips between his, drawing you into a filthy kiss. His hips picked up again as your lips slid against each other, panting into each other’s mouths rather than kissing. When he pulled away there was a string of saliva connecting you both. 
He gasped, closing his eyes at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. “I love you so much, baby. God, I can’t get enough of you.” Your heart swelled in your chest. How could he still be so sweet while pounding you into oblivion? 
“I love you too baby,” you gasped. “Love you so fucking much!” 
“M’ not gonna last,” Jungkook whined, fingers digging into your hips. You weren’t surprised, while you were three orgasms in Jungkook hadn’t relieved himself once.
He positioned your legs over his shoulders being careful of your ankle, driving his cock into you deeper. His heavy balls slapped lewdly against your ass. You yelped, your breath hitching as the thick head brushed over your g-spot. “Fu-Koo! Right there!”
He swiveled his hips, his cock rubbing over the spongy area, that had shivers running down your spine. You could feel your arousal leaking from where you were connected, trailing down your ass. It gathered into a filthy pool of sweat and arousal beneath you. There was no saving these bedsheets. 
“Want you to come again, pretty. Need to see you come again.” You were so sensitive- too sensitive, you weren’t sure you could even come again. But you wanted to so badly, you wanted to be good for Jungkook.
Jungkook licked the pad of his thumb, and brought it down between your bodies, rubbing figure eight into your bundle of nerves. You were so wet it slipped a couple of times before he could get into a perfect rhythm. He was now snapping into at a pace so maddening you could barely breathe. That heavy tension in the pit of your tummy returned building and building as he fucked you quicker and deeper. Your eyes began to burn with unshed tears. 
“Baby, m’ so close! Gon-ah! Gonna come,” your words slurred together. 
Jungkook chuckled huskily above you, his breath hitting your face at the same pace he was fucking you. “So damn pretty. Come for me again baby.” He turned his neck to peck kisses into your sweaty calf. “Cream all over this dick.” 
It didn’t take much for you to come again, just a gentle brush of fingertips across your nipples had you reeling. Your back arched as you froze, your vision blurring. There was a loud ringing in your ears. A gush of release rushed out of you once, twice, and then a third time. It felt euphoric. 
You screamed, your spent walls spasming around your boyfriend. “Fuck Jungkook, fuck!” You collapsed onto your bed; your bones feeling like jell-o. You laid there motionless as the ringing subsided in your ears.
Jungkook groaned from above you. “Look at that, baby.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Still blissed out, you struggled to open your eyes. Finally looking down at what your boyfriend was referring to you gasped. There was a sizeable wet stain on your mattress, right under your ass. Your thighs and Jungkook's groin were also wet. Too wet to be sweat. 
He smirked, “You made a mess.” 
You felt yourself flush, unable to respond. Your mouth opened and closed, and then opened again in search of a response. 
 Jungkook chuckled above you, snatching you up in his arms. “You’re so damn hot,” he growled, sitting you on his cock. You winced slightly, overstimulation running through you. Sensitive but still good.
Fervently, he thrusted up into you, trapping you within his hold. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head down onto his shoulder. The damp skin was salty as you scraped your teeth across the area, your fingers tangled in his hair. Jungkook shivered as he grounded his hips into yours. He panted wetly beside your ear, airy moans and whines trembling out of his mouth. He was so, so close. 
You were too exhausted to say anything, instead stamping wet kisses across his neck to his throat, letting him have his way with you.
Still sensitive from your intense orgasm, your pussy clenched tight. “Ah!” He cried out, bouncing you harder on his dick to meet his thrusts. 
“Are you close, Koo,” you purred, biting his earlobe while your nails grazed his neck.
He cried out as his eyes shut. “Pussy’s too fucking good.” 
“Cum for me baby. Want it inside me.” You clenched your hand in his hair, pulling his locks, forcing his head back.
He gripped you tighter, thrusting deep. A broken wail of your name tumbles from his lips as he cums. You swear you could feel him swell inside you. He whines high in your ear as thick ropes of his semi-transparent seed paint your walls. You hum detaching yourself from his throat. He now sported a mark matching your own. Leaning down, you slotted your lips together with his, kissing him slow and deep. 
──•◦❥•◦──
Encased in your boyfriend’s arms, you felt warm in all the best ways. After fucking the daylights out of you, you cleaned off together, washing away all the vulgarity of your previous activities. Though Jungkook did most of the work as you were so drained you could barely stand up.
When you finally tumbled into bed, all clean and comfortable, Jungkook entertained any questions you had about his ability. No matter how ridiculous or nonsensical they seemed.
You'd found out that he was born a werewolf - the first time he'd shifted was his thirteenth birthday. He would be considered an alpha in the werewolf hierarchy, though he wasn't the pack leader, that was his father. Unlike what is commonly believed, werewolf mates weren't predestined, they were able to choose their mates themselves. That one made your heart beat a little faster.
From behind, Jungkook kissed your naked shoulder. You hummed, still gazing at your hand clasped together with his. You could barely keep your eyes open, the urge to sleep overtaking your body by the minute. You had another question though.
“When you shifted in front of me it seemed…” You searched for a word. “Involuntary. How come?” 
“Usually when I shift it is voluntarily, completely up to me.” You nodded still listening. “The only time it’s not voluntary is when there’s a full moon. Like tonight. Heightened emotions also make it more difficult to suppress it.” 
“Ohh,” you muttered. That made sense. “That’s why it seemed painful? You were trying to avoid it?” 
“Mhmm.”
 It was silent for a moment. There was one more question burning in your mind.
“Koo?” 
He hummed in acknowledgment. “I have another question.”
“Sure baby.”
“When you um,” you cleared your throat. You felt Jungkook move behind you, sitting up to gaze at your face. “When you uh, came. How come it wasn’t…,” you trailed off, too embarrassed to finish. 
“How come it wasn’t what, sweetheart?” You could hear the smile in his voice. 
“How come it wasn’t you know, a lot. Like it the stories.” You’d always read that whenever werewolves ejaculated it was a substantial amount, but when your boyfriend did, it was average. Granted, those were fanfictions and this was real life. 
It was silent. When you turned to face him, you were greeted with his smug grin. “What stories might that be?”
“St~op,” you whined, swatting at his chest. He chuckled capturing his hand in yours, kissing it twice.  
“Well, if you must know, you little minx,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “That only happens when I’m in my rut and I’m assuming you know what that means since you’ve read the stories.”
You hummed. “So I’m guessing that whole knot thing is to amp up the stories too right?” You tried to hide the relief in your voice. Jungkook settled back against your pillows making himself comfortable. “Oh no. That part’s very real.”
Your eyes widened. “What?!” 
──•◦❥•◦──
Thank you for reading!♡ 
Copyright © 2024 Spicybutterfly
All rights reserved.
Distribution, copying, reposting, or translating of any kind is not permitted. I will take legal action against those who attempt to steal my work.
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distort1xn · 2 months ago
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okay, so, i need to talk more about The CaitVi Scene in episode 8.
i’ve been rewatching it on loop. not because i’m weird about it, but because it’s animated. why is that important? because the animators had to make deliberate choices to draw each and every frame in that scene. none of it was by accident. there’s interesting little bits to see, like:
if you keep an eye on the kissing, you can see them using tongue.
cait is extremely gentle with vi, while vi is rough with cait (usually, everyone is rough with vi and gentle with cait – so, cait decides to show vi she doesn’t always have to expect punches, and vi shows cait she knows cait isn’t some breakable little porcelain doll).
when vi undoes the clasp on cait’s pants, you can see cait has a little mole on her tummy.
when they show vi’s back, you can see each and every muscle ripple beneath her tattoo.
even vi’s bare chest isn’t shown to be soft – she’s a woman precisely because she’s so deeply caring and loving, and she doesn’t need curves and softness to represent that.
caitlyn is every bit the ‘piltover princess’ everyone thinks she is, with perfect proportions and a stunning physique.
if you keep a good eye when vi is going down on cait, cait doesn’t wax her coochie bald. she clearly maintains it, but it’s not bald.
at the same time, vi maintains eye contact with cait the entire time, like making sure cait feels good is the only thing she cares about.
when cait pulls away to tell vi about her seeing someone else during their time apart, you can see vi breathless and dazed at the loss in the split second before the ‘camera’ pans to cait.
they both giggle when vi fights with cait’s pants’ clasp.
after cait tells vi about maddie and they kiss again, they ‘come up for air’ and smile at each other.
cait takes her shirt off first to indicate she’s not afraid or ashamed to be with vi and, by extension, a zaunite anymore. she also takes off vi’s vest as a first indication of how she plans to be gentle and caring with vi from then on.
vi can’t seem to get cait close enough to her, constantly tugging and pawing at her. this drives cait wild and she fights to keep up to show vi she wouldn’t want to be anywhere and with anyone else.
arcane best show ever, etc, and so forth.
[p.s. if anyone wants to add to this and/or discuss this more in the reblogs/comments/tags, please do. i’m so curious about everyone else’s interpretations!]
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dyaz-stories · 1 year ago
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your imprint's on my soul || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader
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summary: When Hyun-Su's monster shows up at your door, he teases you and implies that Hyun-Su wants more with you than what you've shared before so, when Hyun-Su wakes up, you decide to act on that.
word count: 4.1k
warnings & tags: canon-typical angst, fluff, smut, explicit consent, dry-humping, thigh-riding if you squint, handjob (male receiving), they're both virgins and are both painfully awkward, this is very soft tbh
first one-shot · previous one-shot
This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.
A/N: sooo, we've reached the first smutty installment for this series, though this feels so tame and so soft I don't even know if it deserves that name. It's what felt right to me for the development of their relationship and what I think makes sense for their characters! I hope you'll enjoy it!
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Hyun-Su always knocks. It doesn’t matter that you’ve told him he didn’t have to anymore, doesn’t matter that you’ve offered to give him a key. He still knocks, a soft rap against your door that you’ve learned to recognize from anywhere you are in the house — it’s probably the first time ever that you are truly thankful for the terrible soundproofing in there. When Hyun-Su isn’t there, you spend your time waiting to hear it again, whether consciously or not.
So when you hear something brutally hitting your door, the sound echoing through your silent house, it doesn’t cross your mind that it could be him.
You stumble through the house to grab your bat, heart beating so fast it’s threatening to fall out of your chest. Whether it’s a monster or a desperate survivor trying to get in, you need to be ready to defend yourself.
You’re slowly approaching the door when whoever — or whatever — is outside hits the door twice more.
“C’mon now, I haven’t got all day.”
You still. You recognize the voice instantly, of course you do, but what you don’t recognize is the tone, or even how loud it is, for that matter.
“Hyun-Su?” you call out quietly.
It’s not the smartest decision, because if it’s not him, it lets whatever’s out there know you’re here, but you can’t see yourself leaving him outside.
“You could say that,” the voice answers, and it’s still obviously Hyun-Su, and it’s still wrong, somehow.
But, after a couple seconds of further hesitation, you decide to open the door anyway. You’ve heard it before, that tone, you think, even if it’s blurry now. Plus, you cannot bear the thought of letting Hyun-Su out there, if it really is him. You tighten your hold on your bat, and carefully open the door.
The second you do, Hyun-Su walks in like he owns the place. It is so unlike him that you get ready to swing, but he spots you and grabs it from your hand easily, using his pull on it to get you closer to him, his other hand coming to your waist to stabilize you with a gentleness that contrasts with the abruptness of his movement. Once he does, he shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.
“All that for me?” he asks, glancing at the bat.
You don’t bother to answer him. You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.
When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.
“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”
Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.
“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.
Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.
He lets out a brief laugh at your words.
“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”
He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.
“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”
That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms. You curse the monstrous part of him under your breath, but you know, deep down, that it’s less about that and more about the fact that he’s leaving you with your whole body practically vibrating with feelings and desires you’ve been having more and more as of late.
Your relationship with Hyun-Su is good. It’s great. It makes you happy, so much happier than you thought would ever be possible after the world ended.
But you’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been a— yearning, a longing for more. Something you haven’t put precise words on, something that is almost fully new to you, because though you had fooled around with the boyfriend you briefly had at the beginning of college, the two of you had never gotten really far. You suspect it’s even more foreign to Hyun-Su.
You do know you have an effect on him, you’re not blind. You know how he can get when he loses himself in you, when he finally lets go of all the weight he carries on his shoulders. You, however, also know how embarrassed he gets when his body reacts to you in ways he can’t fully control. You’re just not sure he’s ready for taking the relationship further and, if you’re being honest, the fear of rejection has kept you from bringing up the subject.
Except that after this conversation, the monster’s words are swirling in your mind, and you can no longer pretend that the desire that makes your pulse quicken isn’t there.
Now’s not the time for that, though. You do your best to carry Hyun-Su to the couch, something you doubt you could have done before the Apocalypse forced you to put on some muscle, cover him with a blanket, just in case, because his sweater is starting to have more holes than fabric, and sit by his side so his head rests on your lap. All that’s left to do now, is to wait for him to wake up.
It’s fine, though.
You’re used to waiting for him.
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Hyun-Su opens his eyes, and at first, he just feels warm and good and safe. For once in his life, nothing hurts. Your hand’s in his hair, fingers brushing against his scalp pleasantly every now and then and—
And he doesn’t remember coming to your place or seeing you.
He jumps up, eyes surveying the apartment, which looks the same it always does, then you when he turns around. All he sees there is mild confusion.
“Did you have a bad dream?” you ask.
“Did you see him?” he asks in reply.
You frown for a second, before understanding passes on your face, and Hyun-Su feels the blood draining from his face.
Last time, the monster had been with you for a couple minutes, at most. This time…
He hadn’t thought he would come here. He’d been far away, when the group of humans had gotten attacked. Intervening had been the right thing to do, he’d thought — until he’d started getting shot at. The words they’d hurled at him, he’d all heard before, during a time of his life he wished he could forget. With his attention split between the monsters still trying to get past him on one side, and the arrows and bullets coming from the other side, the monster had managed to take over.
And maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fought it as hard as he should have.
He had never thought you’d get caught in the crossfire.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Are you— Are you—”
Hurt. Angry. Disgusted.
“I’m fine,” you answer him. You don’t hesitate to reach out to gently touch his face, and your smile is so sincere it’s almost blinding. “Nothing happened.”
He leans into your touch, unable to stop himself, and though he still feels the need to protest, it gets easier to believe you each time you reassure him you don’t despise him.
“It didn’t do anything to you?” he asks, voice low and quiet.
You shake your head, but he can’t miss the way you glance away briefly, avoiding his eyes at first.
“He didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, and he can tell it’s true, but—
“What did it do?” There’s urgency in his voice, panic even. He grabs your arms to look into your eyes, the window to the soul, they say, but he cannot read into you, no matter how much he searches.
“Nothing,” you say, but again, he can tell that there’s more to it, and he doesn’t let go, until you cave in. “He just said something.”
“What did he say?” Hyun-Su presses on. Fear is invading his every bone, wrapping its vines around his heart and squeezing it.
“Nothing important,” you insist, but it only makes him more desperate, because if you don’t want to tell him, it must be something bad, must be something deep and dark and twisted, must be something that could make you hate him. When he doesn’t let up, you sigh. “He just said to ask you something.”
Hyun-Su’s mind goes quiet.
“Ask me what?”
His mouth is dry, his lips move painfully.
“Just— He said, I should ask you what you want to— to do to me.”
It’s like a bomb just went off.
Hyun-Su lets go of you. It feels as if his whole face is burning. Shame and embarrassment overtake him, and suddenly he can’t look at you anymore, just wants to run out the door, but his body is refusing to move. He’s stuck in place like a rabbit in headlights.
“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, whipping his head in the other direction, since that all he can do.
“So, you, um, you… are thinking about it?” you ask, your voice piercing straight through his heart.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“No, no, I’m, uh—”
You grab his hand, scooting closer to him on the couch, until your knees touch his. And it grounds him. Slowly, reason starts to creep back up from under all the thoughts, and he hears the eagerness in your question.
“J-just so we’re on the same page,” you say, as he slowly turns his head to look at you once more, “you’re thinking about… having sex. With me.”
It’s precious, how you lower your voice to say ‘sex’, and then frown in annoyance at yourself. Hyun-Su still wants to tear his hand from yours, run away before you can tell him how much of a freak, of a monster you think he is. But he can’t.
He thinks he’d rather you rip his heart out, as long as you do it with your bare hands, than to live without your touch ever again.
Slowly, he nods. His face and ears are tingling, and he’s sure he’s bright red by now.
“I shouldn’t,” he mumbles. You’ve given him so much already. So much he hadn’t dared to hope for in years. He shouldn’t ask for even more. He doesn’t deserve more.
But your hands tighten around his. Your mouth opens, closes, your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you hesitate and fidget nervously.
“No, you, uh, you should,” you stutter before catching yourself, closing your eyes like you don’t want to see what’s in front of you before you take a leap of faith. “I mean— I think about it. About you.”
A light buzz starts again in his ears.
“I didn’t know,” you keep mumbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure that you—” Your gaze goes from his hand to the floor, everywhere so you don’t have to look at him. “That you wanted me. So I’m— It’s, uh, it’s good to know.”
“I want you,” Hyun-Su blurts out without thinking, and of course then you look at him, with wide, pretty eyes, and if he wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face could burst into flames any second. “I hate that I can’t—” His eyes fall on your legs, with the dress you’re wearing riding up on your thighs. “—touch you.” If he wasn’t so scared, if he was braver… “I just…” A whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t,” you say patiently. “I trust you.”
“But I don’t,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. “You’re so— fragile. If I lost control for a second…”
He sees you hesitate. He expects you to tell him, again, that he wouldn’t lose control, maybe that the monster inside him wouldn’t hurt you. Thing is, you might be right, but it doesn’t matter how unlikely it is. That’s not a risk he can take.
“Okay,” you say instead. “Okay. But what if— what if I was the one touching you?”
He almost wishes you hadn’t said it, with how badly he immediately wants it.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says. His throat is dry. His whole body is aching for you.
“And if I want to?” You tilt your head, all pretty, and oh, how can he deny you anything?
“Please,” he whispers.
Your lips part and your breath seems to stutter, before you lean in and kiss him, and it’s like he’s finally come home. It starts off soft, slow, no different from any kiss the two of you have shared in the past weeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek.
Hyun-Su melts. He parts his lips to welcome in your tongue, lets you take the lead and set the pace for the kiss without thinking about it twice.
Then he feels you move. It’s barely there at first, your hand that’s not on his face coming to rest on his shoulder, and all that is known territory. Even if your fingers actually touch his skin there, because of the numerous holes in his clothing, he can handle that.
His eyes snap open again, though, when you move your leg over his so you can come sit in his lap, straddling him. You notice immediately.
“Is that okay? We can stop—”
“No, I—”
He doesn’t want you to stop. He wants more with you, so bad, and though he would never say it out loud, he’s desperate for you to show him that you’re not disgusted in him. Every time you kiss him, every time you touch him, every time you take his hand and lead him in bed with you, he comes closer to truly believing it.
But, ah, with this last conversation, even if it’s not the first time he’s had you in his lap, he feels— heated. He can feel himself growing hard, and he’s still embarrassed at the thought that you can feel him. Despite what he said, his hands are on your waist, holding tight. He doesn’t remember if he chose to do that.
After all, his desire for you aligns with what the monster wants so closely that he’s— scared. He’s so scared of losing control. But you’re looking at him so lovingly, and he wants you so bad… Can he be selfish? Just this once?
“Don’t stop,” he almost begs, and seeing how eagerly you nod in reply is like an explosion of warmth in his chest.
Your lips crash against his again, harder, with more purpose. Your fingers card through his hair, and the feeling of your light pull on them goes straight to his core, more enjoyable than he thinks it should be, though he’s in no position to linger on it, not when the next thing you do is to experimentally roll your hips on top of him.
From your perspective, it’s a clumsy movement, one you’re unsure of. From his, it’s a rush of pure pleasure when you rub against his hard cock, one that makes him openly moan, his mouth falling open enough that he breaks the kiss. The second he realizes what kind of noise came out of him, he raises his hand to cover his mouth, cheeks turning crimson.
He’s not daring to look at you, not at first anyway, until he feels your lips brushing against his fingers, pressing soft kisses against his hand.
“Still good?” you ask.
And he is, but he’s not trusting his voice all that much for now, so he just nods. A smile dances on your lips as you kiss down his jaw.
“Also,” you add, “I’m not— I don’t have much— experience, in all, uh, that. So you should— you should let me know. What feels good. What doesn’t.”
“That felt good,” he admits quietly, and your smile turns into a grin against his skin.
“I could tell.”
What you don’t say is how hot you found both the sound and the thought that you could affect him like that, how badly you want to press your legs together so you can alleviate the ache you’re feeling down there, how you’re worried you actually want him even more than he wants you.
Instead of saying all that — it would make you feel so naked and so vulnerable, and disarm you completely, which doesn’t seem like a good idea for now —, you start trailing your kisses down his neck. There’s one spot there that makes him whimper, more discreetly than before, but you latch onto it all the same, tongue coming out to flick against the skin, pulling on it softly between your teeth. He writhes and whines under you, and when his cock rubs against you just right, you gasp against him.
You’re delighted to see reddish skin when you pull away. He’ll heal, and there will be no trace of it by morning, but there’s something satisfying about it — and the glassy look he gives you, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess on the back of the couch, with that proud mark right above his collarbone… is purely sinful.
Your fingers hook in his hoodie.
“Can I?” you ask.
He’d go to the moon and back for you.
He nods.
You pull it over his head, struggle a little when it gets caught in his hair, then manage to pull him free and kiss him again with a giggle. It’s sweet. You’re still wearing your dress, but it’s the first time he feels your hands directly on his skin all the same, and even if his body’s burning up, your touch sets him ablaze.
You explore his body with hungry eyes and hands, follow the shape of his pectorals, then move down to his abs. You trace the muscles, slowly, and as you move down, closer to his crotch, he can no longer suppress a shiver. You still for a second, and he watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to keep moving, so badly wanting you to keep going. Finally, your fingers brush against the button of his jeans. Silently, meeting his eyes, you ask for his permission. He swallows, nods again.
He’s nervous, almost painfully so, but he notices that your fingers are shaking as you have to try three times to get it open, and it reassures him, in some ways. It reminds him that, for all the issues he has, this is new for the both of you. There are no expectations to meet, just the two of you discovering, together, what works for you.
Once the button isn’t in the way, you, very carefully, move your hand under his jeans, but over his boxers. The second he feels your hand hesitantly closing over his cock, even through the fabric, he throws his head back, trying his best not to moan again and only half-succeeding.
You watch his reactions closely as you keep touching him, slipping your hand under the boxers after a few seconds. This time he does moan, a high-pitched noise that you take to mean you’re doing something right — even if you have no idea what you’re doing. How tight should your grip be? How fast should you move? Should you be saying something? Should he be saying something?
His cock is rock hard between your fingers, harder than you’d have expected; larger, too. It seems to have been that way for a while, maybe since you’ve started kissing, based on how wet with precum it is. You tighten your grip around it a little, then slide your hand down, slowly, down to the base. He moans again, and you feel him twitch between your fingers.
“Um,” you mumble, “I, uh, I don’t really know— is that— is there anything I should—”
Hyun-Su’s looks up at you, flushed and panting. One of his hands comes to your thigh, and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. You don’t think he even notices though. You’re dripping wet yourself, but for now you just want to make him feel good. If things go well, if he stays open to this sort of things, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with that… later. At the moment, all you want is to show him that pleasure doesn’t have to lead to anything negative.
“J-just, keep going,” he mumbles. “You can, ah, you can go a little faster, if you…”
The rest of his words gets lost in the next moan as you follow his advice, moving your hand up and down his cock, the wetness helping the movement. Despite yourself, you rock your hips against his leg, the pressure of it between your legs feeling so delicious, you can’t deny it to yourself at the moment.
Under you, Hyun-Su is lost in pleasure. Your rhythm is hesitant, you’re not holding him quite as tight as he’d like, but oh, your hand is soft and gentle, and it still feels so much better than his own. The fact that you’re all pressed against him, your breath against his neck, your scent filling him, it’s all much more than what he had imagined — because, yes, in shameful moments, he’d pictured this kind of scenes, but they had never felt as good, pleasure running through his veins and flooding his body.
Any time he indulged in them, though, he came faster than usual, and now, with the real thing, he realizes too late how quickly he is approaching his climax.
“Wait,” he hears himself mumble, “I’ll—”
But he’s already coming, and the strength of the orgasm leaves him breathless as he humps against your hand, trying to make it last longer.
“Oh,” is all you comment, and even through the haze, embarrassment spreads through him as he realizes that there’s cum on your hand and on his stomach. At least he cannot turn any redder now.
“Sorry,”  he mumbles, “sorry, I—”
“No, I— I thought that was pretty hot, actually,” you say, giving him a smile, and thank fuck you’ve taken his hand off him, because he wouldn’t want to have to explain why that’s making him twitch again. “I’ll just— you probably want to get cleaned up.”
“I’m— Yeah, but—” He glances down at your body. He felt you rocking against him earlier, even if he wasn’t exactly in the right mind to say something about it. “Don’t you— Don’t you want to, uh…”
“Ah, I’m fine, I just— I just wanted to make you feel good for now.”
And just as he thought his heart rate might go back to normal at some point, there it is, spiking again.
“We can do that— some other time. If you’d like to.”
There is nothing he wouldn’t give to you.
“I would. I would like that.”
Your smile is a promise for more, your kiss is sweet, and for the first time in forever, Hyun-Su forgets about the monster.
He’s in your arms, and it’s all that matters.
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i’ve been trying to figure out what to put here. i already feel like i’m kinda begging for comment on my posts, which i don’t like doing, but i figured i’d try to explain at least once what i’ve been feeling lately — plus i'm starting a new job on Monday and i don't know how much time i'll have to write after that. truth is, the lack of interactions i’ve been getting on here, on these stories, has been kind of depressing to me. i know people are reading them, considering the amount of notes, and it’s hard not to question whether it’s my writing that’s not good enough to make people want to leave a comment, or if it's just how fandom is now and in that case it just might not be for me anymore. i mean, i write for myself first, but i post because i want to share with others, i want to see their reactions, know how my writing makes them feel… and lately it just feels like i’m screaming in the void and nothing else. it’s been hard to stay motivated honestly. so, yeah. you don’t have to leave a comment, especially if you didn’t like it, i get it, i’m not trying to guilt-trip you. i just. feel the need to explain this at least once, in case it changes someone’s mind, and if it doesn't, i'll know i tried. if you've ever commented, reblogged with tags, sent an ask, know that i'm so thankful for you and you truly keep me going.
next one-shot
2K notes · View notes
soobnny · 7 months ago
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dating him | lee know
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❝ come over, the cats miss you ❞
chan | LEE KNOW | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin
if he wasn’t a menace before (impossible btw), he sure as hell is now
this man is relentless
teasing as his love language
just loves riling you up bc he thinks ur reactions are so cute
and he smirks a lot too
if he wasn’t so damn attractive, u would’ve wiped that smirk off his face !!!!!
“wait min, i got a text”
“nice to know you have friends”
u hate him 😭😭😭😭😭
he’s such a little shit that he’s even rilling u up during ur dates
like
laser tag games where he kisses you to distract you before taking you out
HE’S SO MEAN
he’d push you against the wall with a sly smirk and you think you won’t fall for it again, but you do
every single time
u should’ve known better
this is lee “resident cheater in all possible games” minho
anyways
he is also an ass lover ❤️❤️❤️
i’m sorry but u cannot go into a relationship with him without expecting him to always have his hand on ur ass in some way
so in short
the trope is giving u thought he was out of ur league but he’s actually a weirdo
so now u’re dating the Weird Kid
(u wouldn’t want it any other way)
his other love language is acts of service
i said in my chan one that minho also gives Chief Hong from hometown cha3
like tell me i’m wrong
man wife #2
he is ur personal handyman
he’s just good at everything
will most probably only do it for u tho
seungmin: hyung can u fix my sink
minho: no
seungmin catching strays 😂😂
you: babe—
minho: what do you need me to do now
he says it in fake annoyance too
but he’s got his tools in his hand already ready to do whatever u want
obsessed i tell u
he drives u around too
if you have an event, a party, a project, anywhere you need to be
he’ll drive u there
he always makes time
AND he picks you up too like shut up
it could be a party that finishes at 2am and he’s just waiting for your call to pick you up
sometimes, you tell him he can just sleep early bc your friend will give you a ride home
when you get home, look … he’s still awake
he’s been waiting for you to come home this whole time to make sure you’re safe
BUT he doesn’t say anything
the moment he sees you’re alive and breathing (and doesn’t need taking care of), he’s on his way to the bedroom to sleep
when u look around, he’s done the chores already
he just does things to lessen the load that u might have u know
if u’re so stressed with anything, he’d silently clean up ur room or bring u food
so u don’t have to think about that anymore
also the best chef in town btw
he likes cooking together
and by cooking together i mean like he does all the work and u just stay there and keep him company
he can’t risk ur clumsy ass injuring urself
comforts u thru his cooking too
would baby u and feed u when u’re sad
his favorite dates with u are quiet, homemade dinners
just likes being with u and u only
away from everyone else
as niki would say, i don’t like anyone except sometimes you
it’s in moments like those that he just unwinds and shows u his softer sides
he’s honestly just so gentle and soft
he looks at u with stars in his eyes
ugh such an attentive listener too
sometimes u think he isn’t listening, but he’s got it all memorized
“yeah u mentioned it on our date 3 months ago”
like damn
anyways, moving on
his pet names for u give olden times
honey, darling, jagi
but also loser, idiot, stupid girl (endearingly)
so u two are giving me old married couple
u’d both wake up early and have coffee or tea together and just talk abt anything
also this is far into the future but like
sneak peek at minho as ur husband
i think u two would be the type to have a garden
like gardening would be ur little hobby
he grows fruits and vegetables
u beg to grow flowers
OK BACK TO BOYFRIEND MINHO
randomly sending selfies thru the day
THOSE selfies
u know what i’m talking abt
forces u to send selfies back
(ur photos are all saved and hidden in his phone but he will never tell u that)
oh u’ve also become his cats’ mom btw
one of ur favorite errands to do is going grocery shopping for his cats
u’d always end up buying them a gift
“u’re the reason my cats are spoiled”
SUUUUUUURE minho suuuuuuure
cat fashion shows
like dress to IMPRESS
(btw idk why but i feel like u could force him to play roblox with u)
he also uses his cats to lure u to visit him btw
“soonie misses u, u’re being a bad mother”
it’s just him who misses u let’s be real
and if ur favorite thing to do with him is cat shopping, his is walking by the han river with you
he loves walking
esp when it’s with you
just a peaceful walk tbh like yall don’t even have to say anything
tho sometimes when he’s feeling playful, he’d suddenly play tag with you
ends with both of u just sitting by the river and looking at the lights and the stars and holding hands or maybe ur head on his shoulder
damn wish that were me fr
when u go home, u watch some variant of a trashy reality tv show together
u’ve basically seen it all
but if anyone were to ask u what happened in those shows, yall wouldn’t know
u two were too busy just making out instead of paying attention
or falling asleep
old married couple i’m telling u
expect to also be dragged into his camping
when he has particularly long days off, he’d propose going camping together
ah, the beauty of warm bonfires and quiet conversations
he’d take good care of you the whole time
like yessss do your job as a man and fix up this entire camping site
and he does
tho, aside from camping, he’d also suggest hiking to take in the view of the mountains and the pretty sky
u’d wake up early on both occasions just to watch the sun rise
in contrast to these very productive activities, sometimes minho also just loves lazy sundays where you just cuddle for the entirety of the day
what more could he want
u and his cats with him
that’s honestly just the dream
good luck cat mom
have fun acting like an old married couple with lee know
he is the dream man
nonchalant to anyone else except u
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note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy
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420days · 3 months ago
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OH BABY! | ROMAN REIGNS
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“Girl, you in here stressing my brother out?” Roman’s sister, Gina asked as she walked into the couple’s bedroom where Tati was sitting on the bed with attitude all over her face.
“No, I just don’t want to go.” Her face and tone immediately softened when she came into the room. Roman’s sister was like the big sister she never had and always looked out for her.
Whenever her and Roman would get into it she would vent to her.
Whenever she needed advice she could call her.
Whenever she just needed to cry she would call her becasue she knew she would be there.
Roman knew the only way she was attending this baby shower was if he called his sister to come and talk with her.
Through the pregnancy she has been feeling nothing but insecure due to the changes in her body. Her face got chubbier, her nose was always swollen, and not to mention she gained some much weight from the twins she was carrying.
She wasn’t feeling anything like herself and hated leaving the house unless she absolutely had to. Roman did all that he could to make her feel better about her self which worked most of the time but today she was being extra stubborn.
“Well why not? You don’t wanna celebrate my nieces?” She stood over her and rubbed her big belly.
“Sister, I look a mess. My hair isn’t even done.”
“That’s nothing. We can fix your hair real cute and I know you have a pretty ass dress. Come on and get up.” She tapped her thigh.
Rolling her eyes she stood up from the bed and made her way into her beauty room where her stuff for the baby shower was already set up.
“Now, how were you doing your hair?”
“I was gonna do a cute side part with layers but I don’t even know anymore cause that’s a lot. The wig isn’t even on yet.” She sighed in frustration.
“Girl, just give me the wig.”
The two of them sat in silence as she installed the honey blonde wig exactly the way Tati wanted it. It didn’t take much for her to get it done and Tati was already feeling better once she looked in the mirror.
“Ugh, I’m hungry now. Is he mad at me?” She asked at she looked in the mirror at her sister in law.
“Mad? No. You just had my poor baby brother stressed out. He called me like ‘can you please come get your sister” She laughed.
Picking her phone up from the vanity she sent him a message telling him she was hungry. In a matter of seconds he responded saying he would bring her something up. After a few minutes he walked into the room and handed her the food he made.
“Thank you my baby.” She ran her hand over her husband’s beard and tried to butter him up. She knew he was slightly annoyed with her from earlier even if he didn’t want to show it.
“You’re welcome. You look pretty.” He glanced over at her and admired the glow she had. It was much different from the way she looked this morning.
“Thank you, I’m sorry for being a brat earlier. I’ll make it up to you later… hopefully” Tati giggled as he rubbed small circles into her big stomach
“Don’t worry about it baby.” He kissed her lips.
“Y’all better not be disturbing my nieces while y’all are being grown and nasty.” Gina spoke up.
“They’re in the way anyways. I mean we don’t do anything that would affect them. We do other things.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Ew girl! I don’t wanna hear that.” She sucked her teeth and the three of them busted out laughing.
“You’re wearing these heels?”
“I’m gonna wear them when we go in but best believe I’ll be wearing these anywhere else.” Tati held up furry white slides that showed her freshly painted toes.
“Yeah cause my brother was gonna be on you about those too.” She mumbled and Tati glanced over at Roman who just shook his head at her.
“You ready to go?”
“Mmh, let’s go.” She nodded her head.
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tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @yeaiamme2
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andvys · 1 year ago
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 4
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Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of drugs, allusions to homophobia
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve finds himself yearning for your attention.
Word count: 7k+
A/N: @nemesis729 I had to put in one of your ideas/suggestions! thank you for the inspiration <3
series masterlist
-
Let go. Just let go. Let her go. He has been repeating those words in his head since, well, since he left you. He can’t understand what it is that just pulls him back to you all the time. Whether it’s all in his head or not. He keeps coming back to you and it irritates him because why does this keep happening? 
He left you because he didn’t love you, he left you because he fell in love with her but why isn’t it enough? Why isn’t his love for the other girl enough for him to finally push you out of his mind and out of his life? You seemingly had no problem doing it with him. You pushed him out of your life already so why can’t he do the same? 
The conversation with Billy only left him feeling more irritated. 
Shouldn’t he feel peace, knowing that you aren’t hurting anymore? Shouldn’t he be content with his life now that he finally got what he wanted? 
He doesn’t feel at peace and he doesn’t feel content and it causes anger to rise up in him because why? 
Why, why, why… 
Maybe it’s a good thing that he couldn’t find you anywhere after the conversation with Billy. He looked for you but you were nowhere to be found. He wanted to talk to you about the essay, despite you telling him that you’d call after school. He most certainly would have talked about something else, something that would make things even worse between the two of you. 
The tiny voice in his head that kept telling him to let go, eventually got to him. He gave up on trying to find you and he went to find his girlfriend instead. He took her out for a late lunch at Benny’s Burgers and then brought her to the book shop she loves so much before he ‘begrudgingly’ canceled their movie night– Nancy didn’t seem to mind it that much, saying that she would rather work on her project anyways. After he had dropped her off at her house, he went home, walked into his empty house and waited for your phone call. 
But you never called. 
-
“Is it just me or does Steve seem different?” 
Heather looks at you through the mirror, annoyance flashing in her eyes in an instant at the mention of your ex boyfriend. She lowers the dress that she was holding against her body and sighs. 
“Different how?” She asks as she hangs it back on the rack before she reaches for the purple one, the one you claimed as your favorite. 
You shrug, “I don’t know, it’s just, he seems less– nevermind.” 
Chrissy raises her eyebrows at you, “no, no.. keep going.” 
You blush a little, regretting bringing him up. You look around the bustling store, Heather isn’t the only one looking for a dress for the winter formal next week, a few girls from school are around as well. In fact, Carol Perkins is here too, currently holding up a baby blue dress, just the sight of her makes you want to throw up. 
You never liked her or her boyfriend. Steve had always been friends with Tommy. Carol only came along when she started dating the unfriendly jock. When you had only been friends with Steve, you never hung out with them, you didn’t like them and you didn’t get along with them, not even when you started dating Steve and you were forced to tag along. You always hated the way Steve behaved when he was with them, he always turned into someone else, he let them influence him into doing things that he normally wouldn’t do. They always laughed behind his back, they used him for money and for popularity. You tried showing him that they weren’t real friends but he didn’t believe you or maybe he just didn’t care about what you thought of them. 
She must’ve changed his mind after only one month of dating, he dropped his friends. She got through to him after only one fucking month. 
“He wants to work on the stupid essay with me– he never did that before, he always convinced me to write them for him, even when I wasn’t part of them and now he wants to write it himself and he started reading Pride and Prejudice, willingly!” 
“That’s because he’s already crawling back to you,” Heather mumbles, “they always do that.”
Chrissy nods.
“Not that I’d ever take him back but I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Then what is the case, y/n?” 
You shrug and look down, “I let go of things so I’m not holding onto him or what we used to have if you think that. I don’t want him anymore, not after what he did. It’s just, I’m starting to realize that he truly never loved me. He never changed for me. It’s not that I asked much of him, I just wanted him to drop his toxic friends and for him to start doing better in school so we could go to college together, I just wanted what’s best for him but he never cared about what I wanted. Yet, he cares about what she wants. He dropped his friends for her right away, he started doing better in school for her. That’s what you do when you love someone, you do better for them,” you pause, looking down, you play with the hem of your cheer skirt, “you are willing to change for the right person… So, I guess she is the right one for him. I never was.”
Heather and Chrissy share a look, one of pity. Both girls know that you have let go of your first love but the pain and the heartbreak is still fresh. Steve had always been there, all your life, he had been by your side. He was your friend and then he was more than that, you were hopelessly in love, blinded by it to see how bad he was treating you or how he never even deserved to have a chance with you. 
Neither of them can imagine the pain you are still going through– he was the one for you. 
“I don’t think that she is the right one for him, I think that he’s a blind fool, that’s what he is,” Chrissy says. 
Heather raises her brows, “he’s a real fucking clown, that’s what he is. He dropped the hottest girl there is because he set his eyes on some shiny new toy that’s no one touched before and now he is already crawling back. Not even two months in and he’s already back in your bedroom.”
You scrunch your face up at her words, raising your head, “don’t say it like that, makes it sound like we hooked up.”
“You wouldn’t, right?” Chrissy asks as she stares at you with big eyes, “h-hook up with him or, I don’t know.. kiss him?”
You instantly shake your head, “no! It’s bad enough that I have to do this stupid assignment with him. I don’t ever want him near me again, King Steve is dead to me– besides, he has her now so..”
“Yeah and he cheated on you with her,” Heather says with disgust in her eyes, “he’ll do it again– or, she will do it.” 
“Oh and she will.” 
At the sound of her voice, you all share a look of annoyance. Heather rolls her eyes, she throws the dress over her forearm, putting her other hand on her hip as she looks at the redhead.
You and Chrissy turn your heads to look at Carol, who as always, is chewing her gum and twirling her hair as her eyes flicker back and forth between the three of you. 
“I’m sorry but who invited you into this conversation?” You ask, giving her a false smile. 
“Oh, I just thought that you’d be interested in hearing about what I had to say but hey–”
“Tell us,” Chrissy says. 
Carol tilts her head, laughing a little. 
The cashier behind the counter raises her head, finally tearing her eyes away from the magazine she’s been staring at for the past forty minutes, she looks between you all, mumbling something under her breath that you can’t make out, the Christmas music is too loud. 
“Nancy has a new friend– Jonathan Byers.” 
“And?” Heather shrugs. 
“Well, they seem to be getting really cozy with each other. She is canceling date nights just to hang out with him and Steve is an idiot, I mean he always was so he is kinda blind to the whole thing but when Tommy made a comment about it, he blew up on us, he left us stranded on some parking lot–”
“We don’t wanna hear your sob story about why King Steve stopped being your friend, Carol.” 
She looks down at you where you are sitting on the couch, eyes flashing with irritation but the grin remains on her lips. 
“Well, all I’m gonna say is, their relationship isn’t going to last. Weirdly enough, she started being a little distant ever since he deflowered her. Wouldn’t it be funny if that’s all she wanted him for?” She giggles, giving you a pitiful look, “for sex? I mean, getting to have your first time with King Steve must be really special, right?” 
Irritation sparks inside of you but you don’t show it. A smile tugs at your lips and you shrug, “not really, Carol. There is nothing special about a man, ever.”
Your friends chuckle at your words. 
Carol lets a small laugh leave her lips, though it’s more sarcastic. 
“So, who knows, maybe she stole him from you to hop on his dick, maybe she has a thing for wanting things that she can’t have– although, she did get what she wanted,” she snorts, “but Nancy’s eyes are on the little freak and his eyes, well,” she pauses, smirking at you as she eyes you up and down, “they are elsewhere too,” she chuckles. 
Carol walks past you and Chrissy, staring at the dress in Heather’s hands, she touches the silk material with her fingertips before she brushes past her. 
“If I were you, I’d get him back, y/n.” 
You want to scoff and roll your eyes but that’s exactly what she wants from you. You tilt your head and raise your brows at her. 
She glances back at you over her shoulder, “I mean, losing your boyfriend to some loser is pathetic, especially for someone like you, y/n. I mean, the queen of Hawkins High losing to some little nerd?” She laughs.
You lean back against the couch and cross your arms over your chest. You couldn’t care less about your stupid title. 
Heather squints her eyes at Carol and steps closer to her, “you know what’s pathetic?” She asks, not giving her the chance to respond, “drooling over some guy who isn’t your boyfriend and walking around trying to stir shit up.” 
“Yeah, she moved on if you haven’t noticed,” Chrissy mumbles from beside you. 
Carol turns around, she looks at you before she eyes your friend, “with who? You?” She laughs. 
An exasperated sigh leaves your lips. The smugness on her face, the everlasting smirk and the amusement in her eyes is so irritating to you. 
You fail to notice the blush on Chrissy’s cheeks or the embarrassment in her eyes. Carol smirks, she notices the look on her face and so does Heather who narrows her eyes, glaring at Carol and eying Chrissy slowly. 
“I know what you are, Chrissy–”
“Don’t you have better things to do?” Heather interrupts her, “go and find yourself a dress, it’ll take you some time,” she says, eyeing the redhead up and down. 
Chrissy squirms in her seat, she begins to twist the ring on her finger. You frown when you notice it, knowing that it’s a nervous habit of hers. Carol’s words confuse you a little but you don’t think too much into them. She leaves after giving all of you her judgmental looks. 
Heather turns back to you both the moment Carol is out of eyesight. Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head, “I swear to god, she is everywhere– are you okay?” She asks you. 
You nod, “yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, plastering a smile on your face. 
Both of them look at you skeptically but instead of questioning you, they quickly change the topic, knowing that you desperately need the distraction. 
“You know what you should do? You should pick out the hottest dress,” Heather smirks as she looks through all the dresses, “show up at the snowball and make him see what he lost.” 
A smile tugs at your lips. 
“Yeah and make him regret everything,” Chrissy smiles, nudging your shoulder.
You giggle, shaking your head, “I don’t even have a date.” 
Heather laughs, waving you off, “I know a few guys who would be happy to take you to the dance.” 
“Yeah, me too..” Chrissy mumbles. 
You shake your head at them and get up, walking towards Heather, you reach for the dress in her hands, “how about we make you two look hot. I don’t feel like going anyways, so…” 
Heather sighs, her shoulders slump, “come on, we’ve been talking about this since the summer.”
“Yeah. We talked about our matching dresses,” Chrissy says as she gets up as well, “we can still find a pretty one for you, y/n.”
“And a date.”
You truthfully don’t care about the dance anymore, you only wanted to go there because of Steve, the thought of him picking out a tie that matches your dress and him inviting you for a slow dance seemed so perfect and romantic for you back then, now it’s just something that no longer matters to you. You don’t feel like going to the dance with someone who couldn’t care less about you and the thought of sitting at a lone table while your friends have the time of their lives makes you want to slam your head against the wall. 
Shaking your head, “no, there’s no one I’d wanna go with.” 
“Are you sure about that?” Heather mumbles as she squints her eyes at you. 
Furrowing your brows, you chuckle, “uh yeah, I am sure.”
Chrissy eyes Heather with a curious expression, “what do you know?”
“Nothing,” you snort, “she knows nothing, Chris.”
Heather smirks. 
“Is this about Billy Hargrove ‘cause if so, ew?” Chrissy mumbles, clearly not liking the idea of you going out with Billy. 
“Not Billy,” she smirks and turns around, “although he did tell me something very interesting,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 
Sighing, you turn away from your friends and chuckle, “you didn’t hear anything, Heather.” 
“Oh yeah?” She asks, “and what about the stoner you’ve been hanging out with?” 
Chrissy gasps, “what stoner!” 
“There is no stoner!”
-
Steve’s back aches when he wakes up, a groan falls from his lips, he opens his eyes, feeling a little disoriented when he looks around the living room. He fell asleep on the loveseat his mom always relaxes in when she reads one of her favorite novels. Rubbing his eyes, he frowns a little. Your book is lying on his chest, he must have fallen asleep while reading it– while he was waiting for your phone call. 
The phone call that never came. 
He waited and waited but you never called. Time wouldn’t pass, no matter what he did, it just didn’t pass while he waited for you to call him. Eventually, he reached for the book in his backpack and continued reading it, though his eyes kept straying away to the telephone. 
His thoughts kept going back to you just like they do now. 
What did you do last night? 
Where were you last night? 
Who were you with last night?
Why didn’t you call? 
Using a bookmark, he puts it in between the pages that he has to reread again. He closes it and puts it down. He feels a little irritated. What is this radio silence? You promised to call, you broke it, the promise. You were never one to break promises. 
He canceled his date with Nancy just for you, so you could both work on the essay, together. 
Frowning in annoyance, he walks towards the telephone, grabbing the receiver, he dials your number, still remembering it. But just like he suspected, you don’t pick up the phone. He calls you once, twice and a third time until he finally gives up. 
Why won’t you pick up? 
Sighing, he slams the receiver back into place. He runs his fingers through his messy hair and shakes his head as he makes his way into the kitchen to brew some coffee. His mind is occupied by you. Not her. You are not the girl he should be thinking about. He should be thinking about her, he should be planning a date or think about the right Christmas present he should get her, instead he thinks about you. It’s always you. 
The morning goes by and so does the afternoon. He takes a shower, he cleans his room, he reads, he starts writing the essay, he even cooks and still no call from you. 
By the time the evening rolls around, he is fuming. What is more important than an essay? You were never one to abandon school work, it was always your first priority. What changed?
He grabs his textbook, his coat and his car keys before he makes his way out of the house. Only as he steps out into the cold, does he notice the blanket of white enveloping the streets of Hawkins. Snowflakes are falling from the sky, the silence is almost eerie. 
The snow always reminds him of you, the way he kissed you for the first time after removing the snowflake from your lashes. 
He sighs, shaking the thought of the way your lips felt when they touched his for the very first time. He makes his way towards his car, removing the snow off the windshield before he gets inside. Throwing his textbook on the passenger seat, he rubs his hand together to warm them up a little before he starts his car. 
It’s only a five minute drive to your house, yet, tonight it feels longer than that. He doesn’t know why. 
He parks his car behind yours, which is luckily the only one in your driveway. But the house is dark, no lights are on. He doubts that you are home, he still gets out of his car.  Locking it, he puts the keys in his pocket. The snow crunches beneath his shoes. The cold air stings his cheeks a little. 
He rings your doorbell twice, the way he always used to do. 
You don’t open. 
He knocks and rings the doorbell again. 
Still you don’t open. 
Where are you? 
It’s on Monday when he finally sees you again. You are standing by your car, holding your backpack against your hip, rummaging through it. Your hair keeps falling in front of your face, you are muttering something under your breath. 
Steve approaches you with a frown.
You don’t notice him coming, only as he stops in front of you, accidentally kicking some snow towards you. 
“Where have you been all weekend?!” He asks, throwing his hands up. 
Raising your brows, you stop rummaging through your bag and lift your head to look at him. The stressed expression on his face makes you want to laugh. He has dark circles under his eyes, his hair is a little messy but that might be because of the wind. 
“I’m sorry?” You chuckle. 
His hazel eyes flash with confusion, he shakes his head a little, “where have you been?” 
“How’s that any of your business?” You mumble as you zip your backpack shut and pull the strap over your shoulder, brushing past him, he instantly follows you. 
“I– we were supposed to work together, remember?” He exclaims, staring at you in disbelief, “I waited for you all night on Friday, I showed up on Saturday night and you weren’t there!” 
You notice the curious eyes on you– not his but the ones of the students when you walk into the school with him hot on your heels. 
“I was busy.” 
“With what?” Steve asks, furrowing his brows, “I know school is your first priority, since when do you put anything else before it?” 
You shrug, looking over your shoulder to glance at him, “since I changed my priorities.” 
“And what are those?” 
“Those are none of your business, Steve.”
He follows you to your locker.
“We lost three days, y/n! We could have made some progress!” 
You squint your eyes and turn to look at him, he looks stressed. 
“Do you think I wanna work with you?” You mumble, “I got better things to do.” 
Steve shuts his mouth. Sighing, he leans against the locker next to yours and takes a moment to look at you. You abandoned your cheer uniform yet again. Your hair is open, you are wearing a sweater that looks way too big on you and a plaid skirt. He can smell your perfume, it’s not the same one anymore. 
“Like what? Hanging out with stoners?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. 
“We got five days to work on this stupid essay, I can write it in one day!” You exclaim, not bothering to answer his question that he so desperately wants. 
You don’t look at him directly and you don’t tell him what he wants to hear, yet again. 
“I don’t wanna work on it on the last day!” 
Rolling your eyes, you shut your locker and put your hand on your hip, facing him again. 
“You know what, fine,” you sigh. You narrow your eyes at the redhead who walks past you, already wearing a smug look on her face when she looks between you and Steve. 
“Where do you wanna meet up today?” You ask with a bored expression on your face.
Steve blinks. For a moment, he stays quiet and he looks at you, he looks into your eyes, desperately trying to read them. What happened to you? You don’t seem like yourself, you seem different. He steps closer to you, your perfume isn’t the only thing he smells, there is a hint of smoke and weed lingering. He swallows, concern rushes through him. Your eyes are a little red rimmed, from crying or from smoking weed, he can’t tell. 
A part of him tells him to ask if you are okay, the other part tells him that it’s not his job to ask you this question, not anymore. 
“Hello?” You mumble, waving your hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts. 
“Uh, we could meet up at the coffee shop downtown?” He suggests. 
You nod, “yeah, sure. I’ll meet you there after school.” 
You don’t give him the chance to respond, you turn around and walk away before he can even utter a word. Steve frowns as he watches you leave. He might never get used to this, to the cold shoulder you are giving him. It’s been a long time since he had seen a side of you that he used to know, now you just seem like a stranger. You changed, it’s obvious you did. Every smallest thing about you is new to him. 
You used to be on time. Whenever he would pick you up for date nights or for school, you would already sit on your porch steps waiting for him with an excited smile on your face. He was the one who showed up late, now it’s you. 
It’s 5:25 pm when you finally walk into the coffee shop. I’ll meet you after school, you said. School ended two hours ago, he went straight to the coffee shop, he even chose your favorite spot and waited for you as he continually looked down at his watch. 
You look around and he has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, he is annoyed. When your eyes find him, you take a moment to look at him, he sees the way you look at him, even from afar. You look irritated and annoyed, just like he does, still, you make your way over to him. Pride and Prejudice is lying open on the table, you see the page number; 301. Surprise is what you feel when you stare at the number, you raise your brows. Did he actually read that much? 
“Hi,” you mumble. 
Taking your coat off and scarf off, you throw it on the bench before sliding into the little booth. 
“Yeah, hi,” he mutters angrily, “I waited for you for two hours!” 
Leaning back, you raise your head to look at him. His hazel eyes are filled with anger and annoyance, it’s almost amusing to you. 
“Why?” 
“What do you mean ‘why’?” He exclaims. 
His brows knit together and his cheeks grow red. 
“We didn’t make any plans–”
“You said we’d meet after school, y/n.”
“Yeah but I didn’t say when,” you smile, “I’m here now so relax, Steven.” 
“Where were you?” 
Where were you, Steve? You had asked him this question so many times, yet you never got an answer so why should you give him one? 
“I was busy doing stuff.” 
He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it, he clenches his jaw and turns away from you to look out the window. He deserves it, he knows he does. It had taken him some time to realize some things but ever since Nancy and a couple of kids had stepped into his life, he began to see things a little clearer. He began to realize that he mistreated you, though he is still in denial because the guilt is just too heavy. 
He stood you up. He showed up late. He was awful to you. Now you are doing the same thing to him and he knows he had it coming. Deep down, he knows it. But he feels the ugly burning in his chest, the one he only ever felt when he saw Billy flirting with you or any other guy. 
Where were you? Were you with Billy? With the Stoner?
“Did you actually read it?” 
He turns back to you, you look at him in curiosity. 
“Yeah.” 
“Seriously?” You ask, “301 pages?” 
He nods, “yes.” 
You are genuinely impressed. For someone who always hated reading, he is quick. What did she do to him that you couldn’t?
Giving him a lopsided smile, you raise your brows, “impressive. Do you like it?” 
“Yeah, I mean, there’s some good quotes in there. I just don’t like the slow burn.” 
“Really?” You ask, leaning your elbows on the table, you move closer, “I love the slow burn– what quotes do you like the most?” 
He blinks as he stares at you, this is the first time you talk to him ‘normally’. 
“Uh, I’ve written some down,” he mumbles, squinting his eyes as though he tries to remember, “I think it’s uh – ‘they walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt– a-and… uh–”
“And said, for attention to any other objects.” You mumble, finishing the quote for him. You refuse to look into his eyes but your heart is bleeding in your chest.
“Y-Yeah.” 
“What’s your favorite?” 
“We do not suffer by accident.” 
He sucks in a sharp breath. He can see the way you stare at your hands, awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. The silence between the two of you is loud and awkward. 
“It’s a good one.” 
“Yeah..” 
Steve feels the urge to reach out and take your hands in his, he doesn’t know why. When you look up at him and your eyes lock with his, his heart stops beating for a moment. He can’t read you, not anymore. He knows that you have built up high walls around you, not letting him see you anymore. It bothers him because he wants to see you so badly, he wants to know what you are thinking about, what you are feeling. If you still have feelings for him.. 
“Y/n–”
“I started working on it already!” You interrupt him, “do you wanna read what I have so far?” 
He sighs, shoulder slumping and his expression sinking for a moment. “Y-Yeah, I wanna read it.” 
“Okay,” you whisper as you slide the notebook towards him, “I uh, I’m gonna get myself something to drink.” 
“Yeah sure.”
You push yourself up and smooth down your skirt before you take the first step away from the table. Your emotions are in overdrive, you still feel so much anger for him but deep down, beneath all the layers of anger and pain is the yearning, the longing in your heart that you still feel for him despite the way he treated you.
You preferred the radio silence between you two in those weeks you have pretended that he stopped existing. It was much easier to deal with all of this when you stayed away from him but now you can’t. The thought of spending time with him, every day for the rest of this week makes you want to cry. 
Having to look at him and feel yourself still wanting him, makes you hate yourself. It fuels the anger and worsens the ache in your heart. It makes you want to run away. At one point you even think it’s worth dropping the essay and risking failing the class just because you don’t want to be around him but you would only make things worse for yourself. Steve Harrington isn’t worth the bad grade.  
You make it through the evening, dodging questions that aren’t related to the essay. You continue giving him the cold shoulder, only speaking up when needed. You want this to get over with quickly. 
The next day goes by similarly, Steve asks questions and you stay silent. He tries to find out more about who you spend time with. He asks about Billy and mentions the Stoner, Billy told him about but he gets nothing from you, absolutely nothing. 
Why should you tell him anything?
Why should you tell him who you spend time with? Why should you tell him where you have been all weekend? You don’t owe him anything. He is not a part of your life anymore, yet he keeps acting like he is, he keeps prying and throwing questions at you that he knows he will get no answers to. 
You don’t care how annoyed or frustrated he gets with you, he has no reason to even ask those questions. 
On Wednesday, Steve finds himself in your bedroom again. He is sitting on your carpet, staring at all the chaos in front of him. You kept criticizing his texts, crumbling up all the papers and throwing them on the ground. It’s been hours and hours of writing and rewriting, you barely made any progress. 
Now you are rewriting his part.
The dark denim jacket is still in your room. Maybe it’s just yours. At least he hopes it is. 
“Why don’t you like Mr. Darcy?” You break the silence. 
“He’s arrogant.” 
You snort, “you should meet yourself.” 
A little offended, Steve scrunches his face up, “what is that supposed to mean?” 
“It means that you are arrogant and you’re a dick,” you murmur under your breath, thinking that he won’t hear. 
But he did hear, he doesn’t speak up, though. He wants to hear what else you will say about him. After weeks of no reactions, no arguments, no anger directed at him, he is left wondering what you think of him. The past few days you have been calm but the energy surrounding you tonight is tense. 
“You are wealthy and arrogant like Mr. Darcy and you can be condescending sometimes. That’s something I never liked about you, the way you treated people who are less popular and liked than you are. You can be mean.”
“Mean?” He asks. 
You push yourself up on your knees and look down at him, “yeah, you were mean to me.”
He looks up at you, a strand of hair falls in front of his eyes, his lips are set in a frown. He doesn’t look angry or pissed, he looks curious.
“When?” 
You promised yourself that you wouldn’t do this, that you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing him that he got to you, that his actions hurt you. Another part of you doesn’t care, it’s all in the past, you don’t have to show him what you feel now, right? 
“All the time, Steve.” 
His face falls a little, his lips part, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t form any words, right now. He stares into your eyes, the tugging feeling in his chest returns. The urge to apologize the way he wanted to do two days ago comes back. 
You look at each other for a while. The only sound being the howling wind outside. The music stopped playing a while ago. You watch the way his eyes soften, the way they flash with sadness and regret, it makes your heart hurt. 
Your hand itches to reach out to him, to run your fingers through his hair and smooth it out, to touch his cheek and feel him again. He looks at you differently now. He talks to you differently now and it hurts. 
He is much more gentle and kind. It hurts to know that it’s her whom he changed for.
He grew up with you, he was your friend first, he was your lover first, he was your boyfriend first but you were never good enough for him. You see the way he is with her, even when everyone, including him, thinks that you don’t look at him anymore, you do. You secretly watch him. He touches her gently, he kisses her softly, he stares at her and smiles when she isn’t looking, he kisses her hand and carries her books, he wraps his arms around her waist and he gives her his jacket when she is cold. He loves her, he genuinely loves her.
You wonder if he knows how horrible she is, how cruel her words can be – but then again, his words were just as cruel when he spit them in your face before he shattered your heart into a million pieces. 
Now he looks at you with those eyes that you longed for when he was still yours. Soft eyes. Now, you can’t stand them. You don’t want him to look at you like that. 
You force yourself to look away from him. You stand up and pick up all the papers on your bed, throwing some of them in the trash. 
Steve watches you, not taking his eyes off of you yet. 
“But also, you’re kind of a clown, so you’re very far from being like Mr. Darcy.” 
Steve tilts his head up to look at you with a frown on his face, a laugh tumbles from his lips, “a clown?” 
“Yeah,” you smirk when you notice the offended look on his face, “they call you King Steve but you’re really just a clown who entertains all the girls.” 
“Uh–”
“Really, I know college isn’t on your list of things to do in life but maybe a circus would do for you.” 
“Look who’s being mean now,” he murmurs as he stands up. 
“I’m not being mean, I’m just being honest,” you say, “you’re a clown just like all the other douchebags on the basketball team. Honestly, I don’t know how it just occurred to me that you all look ridiculous running after one ball – but then again, you also do that with everything else in life, you all see one desirable woman and you are all running after her like a hungry pack of wolves.” 
Steve looks a little caught off guard, though he doesn’t look mad, not even in the slightest. If you had said these things to him two months ago, he would have gotten off on you. 
“Yet you still go for clowns like me?” 
You laugh, “oh you admit to being a clown?” 
He rolls his eyes at you. 
“No, I don’t go for clowns like you anymore, Steve. I think I learned my lesson. I’d never do that again.” 
Instantly, his eyes flicker to the denim jacket on your chair. So it certainly isn’t Billy’s. 
“So.. you didn’t sleep with Billy?” 
A look of disgust that you can’t fight off this time crosses your face and you shake your head, “what ever made you think that I want to fuck Billy Hargrove?” You ask. “In what world would I touch that man?” 
“Well, he told me.” 
You snort and shake your head in disbelief. 
“Billy says a lot of things that aren’t true.” Except for the one time he did tell you the truth. 
He won’t argue with that, he knows you’re right. Still, a part of him believed him. 
You walk towards him and bend down to pick up the crumpled paper balls on the ground. You also throw them in the trash. 
“Who’s the stoner you’ve been seeing?” He blurts out as his eyes stick to the jacket again, “is that his jacket?” 
A part of you wants to laugh in amusement, the other part of you is pissed at him for sounding so jealous. If you wouldn’t have figured it out by the tone in his voice, then you would have known by the look on his face. 
You know Steve like the back of your hand. Right now, he is jealous. Why? You have no idea. He never loved you, he never actually wanted you. He wanted to own you and that’s what he still does in his head. That’s why he keeps asking you all these questions, that’s why he lets Billy’s words get to him. That’s why he hates the thought of you being someone else’s.
You walk towards him with a smirk on your face, “none of your business, Harrington.” 
To know that it troubles him so much to the point that his cheeks glow red makes you feel satisfied. 
“Just tell me, please.”
You snort, “no way.”
He steps closer to you and looks down at you with pleading eyes. What the hell? 
“Why should I tell you?” 
“Because I wanna know,” he mumbles. He pokes at your waist, making you flinch. He knows that you are ticklish. He does it again but this time, you grab his finger. 
“Stop that!” 
He uses his other hand, poking the other side of your waist, hard enough for you to giggle. 
“S-Steve, stop!” You snap at him, trying to keep a straight face but when he does it again, you flinch and try to step back but he pulls his finger out of your grip and wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from escaping. 
“I’ll stop when you tell me,” he says. His eyes light up when you giggle again. You squirm in his arms, trying to push him away. 
You don’t know how it happens but for a minute, you get so lost in the moment. For a minute, you forget about everything that had happened, you forget about the heartbreak and the pain that he had put you through, you forget about how he had cheated on you, how he had lied to you, you forget about the things he spit in your face, you forget about how he never loved you. For a minute, you forget it all. 
What starts off with him poking your waist, ends with him tickling your sides and making you giggle and laugh as you step closer and closer to your bed. Steve is chuckling as he holds your squirming body against his. You try to fight him off but he is much stronger than you, you poke his sides but you don’t get much of a reaction out of him, if anything, it makes him hold you even tighter. 
Tears from laughter well up in your eyes, your stomach begins to hurt from it all. As you near the edge of your bed, you stumble backwards when the back of your knees hit the mattress. Instinctively, you hold onto him and pull him down with you. When your back hits the soft cushions and he lands on top of you and you feel his chest pressed against yours for the first time in a while, you know that this should have been the moment for you to snap out of it and push him away but you are still in the bliss of the moment. Right now, you are in the past where things are still good. 
You are still giggling and he is still chuckling. His nose bumps against yours and it only makes you laugh harder as you look into each other’s eyes. He lets go of your waist but he stays on top of you. His heart is racing, you can feel it. 
Yours is racing too – and then, it flutters when his hand reaches out to cup your cheek. His fingertips graze your skin and his eyes roam your face. His other hand, pushes your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. Steve is so lost in the moment, he admires you, your pretty eyes, your beautiful face, the feeling of your body against his, the racing of your heart. He finds himself moving closer to you. It only feels right to do it.
There is this feeling between the two of you. Neither of you can describe it but it only makes you yearn for more. It fills you with false hope knowing that it will crush you again, a moment later. 
While his smile lingers, yours falls quickly when you snap out of it and realize what is happening, right now. Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart stops beating and you freeze when you feel his lips brushing against yours.
Everything comes crumbling down, all the walls that you had built around you, all the strength you had found within yourself to push him out of your life, all the peace you have made with living a life without him. 
It all fell down and one minute is all it took.
next part
-
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richeeduvie · 6 months ago
Text
Birds of a Feather - PART ONE?
Darkish!Aaron Hotchner x Reader Sorry Lalo and Roman girlies I was on an Criminal Minds binge and I had to...and I also want to write more idkidk
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It's moments he's remembering, from when you joined the team to when Aaron realized there was feelings in him for you. It all comes down to use for the justification of things he's done. He will do.
The person he's become for you. For you. That three letter word is easier on the tongue than the word because. It's less of an excuse that way.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.
WARNING: Mentions of death, violence, things of a graphic nature. Criminal minds stuff. Jealous, possessive Hotchner. Entitled behavior. Toxic behavior and relationships. OC!Hotch sorta cause I don't think he'd turn into this crazy of a person, but reader's just that hot lol. More tags to come maybe cause Hotch is only going to get worse.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.
Aaron never thought that the person that would change him would be the woman who smiled too much. He never thought this change would come harshly - all for you, the one who joined the BAU's team 6 months ago.
The one who currently has the whole team looking for their retainer case, including him.
He's almost silent when his head hits the bottom of the jet table. But Aaron hears your giggle and he's sure he hears Rossi's smile.
"I don't think it's right for you to have the leader of this team on the floor to help you and then for you to laugh at him."
"Oh, lighten up on the kid, Hotch."
Aaron stays under the table, Rossi's not able to catch the stern, even sterner way he looks there at the older man's words.
"And I'm not understanding why you - on how we have let Rossi off the hook when it comes to finding your retainer case."
Aaron's voice stays leveled talking to you, never rising in tone or going low. It's him as he always is, but under the table with you. It's not different.
It's not different. The way the blood in his cheeks come warm, it's not different. And it has to be that way for a multitude of reasons.
"We've silently agreed it's because he's old. Or, that's what I assume. And I assume I'm right."
It's Spencer coming out from the bathroom, his voice dragging out the word 'old' factually, casual. Not unkind, just the way Spencer is - and it makes the team smile and scoff. Or both. Unless you're the team's leader, then Spencer's words only bring a simple, slight curve to the corners of his mouth.
And what was barely there in humor drops at the sight of you smiling at Spencer. Spencer's words. Not at Spencer. It's all innocent.
What it is shouldn't matter anyway.
It drops, Aaron ignores the uneven, heavy feeling around his chest to the point he doesn't know why it's there when he can't anymore.
You smile too much.
"I'm old, and when you're old, you'll take the word as an insult when it is, and you'll use your age as an advantage when it benefits you. I think if my bad knees were going to ever be beneficial, it'd be now."
"I'll take your word for it, Dave."
"I think it's a great show of a leader to do this for one of their members of the team. To put in the work to find something very valuable to me."
"...It's a retainer case."
You smile at Aaron. He doesn't blink, but his eyes are never wide. There's nothing to smile about.
"And it wasn't in the bathroom."
"I don't think it's anywhere on this plane, my love."
Derek sits back in his seat, almost slumped when he does. "I know this seems dorkish, I think Reid being my plane seat partner recently has been affecting me, but I'm in the mood for a board game. Sorry, Reid."
You can see Reid turn to Derek Morgan to J.J across from them, then back to Reid.
"What's so dorkish about board games?"
"Come on, man. When you hear the word board games, do you think of the word cool, do you imagine a cool person who constantly plays board games?"
"I think of them as a way to cheaply and effectively spend time with loved ones and friends while igniting competition and entertainment. My favorite is Clue if we're going for a more simple conversation, but there are many, especially more modern ones that require more strategy, have deeper narratives, or are particularly just beautiful in design. I'd have to see a list."
Derek smiles with teeth at J.J. She leans her head back and smiles without.
"I feel like the point I was trying to make was proven there."
"What point?"
Your smile never lets up. It doesn't make Hotch smile, but it makes him unable to turn away.
With you, he's beginning to have moments where he doesn't understand why he does the things that he does. It goes against everything he's ever learned. But, he's not about to profile himself to see if he can fix that. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe he'll be able to look away, and you'll stop being someone whose smile and eyes and tilt of the head makes him warm and nearly angry. You don't deserve that anger even if you don't know it's there.
"I think going up against Spencer in a boardgame is a losing game. But I kinda want to, now."
"...Let's get up."
You listen to him, taking his hand when he helps you rise on your feet.
"I think I'll take to the corner, do a cognitive interview on myself to see if I can remember where I put the fuc...damn thing."
"I've told you to watch your language."
You have a problem with swearing. You have the skill of making it sound bright, charming. It's unprofessional. Hotch doesn't know or care to see the way his group softens their banter to look at you and him.
"I just did, I feel proud of myself. But sorry."
He doesn't say anything, but he watches your throat bob.
"And it may be a retainer case with my retainer, but not just just, Mr. Hotchner. Mr. Hotchner, Sir. Mr-"
"Don't hurt yourself, kid."
Your smile turns to Rossi, Hotch tilts his head - moves his body into your line of sight a bit more.
You're talking to him right now, it's unprofessional to suddenly shift the conversation, especially when it's one you were having with your boss. An explanation, but you don't have to smile at him the way you do. Aaron will take what he can get.
"But it'll probably be less than a week and a half before my teeth start to shift. That's thousands of dollars down the drain, all those wire tightening appointments poor seven year old me had to go through will have been in vain."
"She's right. No matter how rigorous the medical process is to literally break the gums so your teeth can shift into a more aesthetically pleasing position, it's almost as if your mouth has memory to shift them back-"
"No need for the ortho lesson, Spence." Emily takes a sip of her coffee, it clearing down her throat. "I can say with experience and visual evidence that if you don't wear those little plastic molds of your teeth for the rest of your life, they'll punish you by moving back."
The black-haired agent bares her bottom teeth and its slight crookedness. J.J leans in, Spencer tilts his head.
"It looks nice, still."
"Did you start to wear them after you noticed them shifting?"
Emily takes another sip. "Hell no."
You and Hotch turn away from that conversation as you sit in your corner. Settling. He watches you settle.
"Or I could just get braces again. I don't know how many people would take a twenty-six year old with braces seriously in this field but...we'll see."
The silence settles with you for a bit, no one expects Hotch to say anything. Hotch doesn't expect himself to say anything.
"I've been thinking about getting Jack braces."
They certainly don't expect it's something so personal. Personal for him, suddenly personal. And they - Reid, Morgan, J.J, Prentiss, Rossi, they've seen how the stern, small-eyed stare of Aaron Hotchner gets even more...silently harsh at the sight of you. Garcia would agree if she was here. So for that personal comment to be brought upon you, the charming, all-too-bright newbie? They can't help but stare.
But Rossi, Dave - he's a step ahead, he could question a thing or two about what it could mean.
You look at Aaron. He doesn't look away. He can't. He wants to.
He wants to look away. He doesn't know if he does.
"Oh. Well, tell the little man it's worth it in the end...and that the ortho-guy is lying, you can eat as many chips and nuts as you want."
Aaron doesn't nod, but his eyes are enough. "I'll be sure to tell him."
He turns to go back to seat before he can catch another smile, not yours, anyway.
"What?"
Rossi takes to looking out the window, Aaron looks at...files, he'll focus on the lines and catch-up work. There's nothing to turn away from when you're behind him.
"I think she did really well on this case."
"You'd be right." There's a pause. "Is there anything else?"
"I think that'd be you to decide."
His eyes flicker up to the older man. It's that type of comment, that insinuation that would get anyone else reprimanded, whether or not they're in front of the rest of the team. But David Rossi is David Rossi, there's a reason why he's so bold now, fixing that reason is not anywhere near Hotch's list of priorities. He's too tired now, at least.
And yet, he's always the last to fall asleep on the plane ride home. He turns behind him just to check. In your time here, they've learned you're second to last.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.
Out of the line-up to pick someone new, readily skilled and able to fit in with the BAU, Aaron knew it would be you. From a completely platonic and professional perspective, you were it. You had to be, it's something he can admit. Your name didn't reach him by a resume or interview, but the moment he met you, Aaron knew you would be an asset to the team.
And maybe, from a more personalized perspective, he thought Reid would do well with someone younger with them for the work.
But to be twenty-six, that's three years between now and your graduation with a public college in New York - and in those three years, you did quite a lot. Impressive work for someone so young. Nothing of titles or accreditation, but when his team is called out to find the killer of three women and your profile is at the center of it, it calls into question as to whether or not Aaron should make use of your talents, to let that go unappreciated would've been a mistake. He remembers how the team agreed.
Girl Sherlock. Silly. Silly girl. He doesn't care when anyone is named, killer or hero - but you deserve a better one.
It was a killer with no name in Virginia, so they didn't have to go far for the investigation, but you did. You came in the day they did, papers and files in your hand. A coat too big for you to wear. You look like you couldn't handle the cold, even though he wouldn't agree that it was cold at all that day.
"H-hi. Hello. I never thought I would have the chance to bother the FBI, but I...fuck."
He remembers Morgan's brow rising, his was already raised.
"Sorry, I didn't think this would be nerve-wracki...."
You trailed off when your eyes caught Aaron. A nervous, young woman who obviously wasn't from Virginia. Someone who possibly has a problem with authority, you wouldn't have stuttered and stumbled as much as you did around him if that was the case.
Though, you've built familiarity between the both of you. He's allowed you to. So, if he looks back on it, not someone who has fear of authority, you wouldn't be so open to asking him to get on the floor of a jet if that was the case. You were just nervous the first time.
"I have reason to believe that whoever took the lives of these women in the past week is the Northwind Killer. And the Wyoming Skinner. And the Akron Phantom."
You, this nervous, young woman with scrambles of writings, news clippings. At first, you appeared like an obsessive fan of true crime, someone they would turn away with pity and second-hand embarrassment. But then, the way you spoke, the way you profiled. It was professional, investigative. You knew what you were doing and you've been doing it for a while.
It didn't help that you were beautiful. But he doesn't remember thinking that the first time he met you. Aaron thinks he's only realized it over time, or...now it's personalized - the way you look on his chest, it's no longer just a fact of your face.
It didn't help that the coat looked too big on you.
"You're Girl Sherlock."
Aaron saw the way you cringed at Reid's reveal.
"I never not feel like I'm twelve years old when someone calls me that. I've just turned twenty-six. But yeah, that's me." 
Prentiss’s head leaned up, then she nodded with her mouth parted. 
“Well, nice to meet you, Girl Sherlock. But considering that makes me feel like I’m twelve, I assume you want to be called your actual name? I’m Emily Prentiss. This is Spencer Reid, don’t be surprised he somehow knows you.” 
You smiled before you gave your name. 
He doesn’t know what to think of how much he likes your name, he would’ve named Jack that if he was born a girl. 
But, maybe Aaron never thought that, maybe he’s making himself into a fool. Aaron wouldn’t know why he’d do that when he doesn’t want anything to do with you outside of a professional matter. Where he can care for you professionally, maybe even to the point where you become close to him on the team, as he is with everyone else. 
Not someone to resent when he dreams about you instead of Haley at night. You wouldn’t deserve that, but Aaron Hotchner would hope he’s done some good enough in his life where you could leave him alone in his own head, where there would be a part of him that doesn’t allow this to turn into anything. 
But he should know by now, what he’s seen in his line of work - the dangers of what happens when you keep yourself convinced. But this wouldn’t be dangerous, it’d be right. This isn’t an unsub convincing himself that thoughts, fantasies of murder and wrongdoing are justified or something he’s entitled to, this is him convincing himself and rightly so that there’s nothing different about you. There is no bodily or mental reaction when it comes to you. Not then, not now. 
Aaron tilted his head at the smile growing brighter. The smile was warranted then. He couldn’t profile just how much you think it’s needed to smile and make others smile then. Aaron was too busy with the fact three women were dead and you were there to turn the case upside down. 
That and your four-pointed star earrings. Gold, old. Your neck held no jewelry. 
“How do you know her?”
“She’s a private investigator. She’s made a name for herself internet wise, although her work in criminal investigation is just…I think this is one of those moments where I am self-aware enough to stop myself from making a socially-inept mistake. It would be an odd experience for you if a stranger began to delineate your life story and career progression, wouldn’t it?” 
“On the nose, Spencer. But thanks for the introduction.” 
There was silence between you all until Rossi chimed in, because of course he would. “Well, Girl Sherlock?” 
There was no trailing off at the sight of Rossi, no. It was eyes widened. Hotch shared a look with Morgan, then Prentiss. 
“You’re David Rossi.” 
“You know me?” 
“It’s a fan club.” 
It’s something he almost whispered, nothing sarcastic or demeaning in voice, but it was a quip at the fact this was happening during a case. A bit humorous, because Aaron can admit it was, but mostly and barely frustrated. You were interesting, he wouldn’t blame the team for their attention shifting onto you. 
“And you’re Aaron Hotchner.” 
He blinked at that, he rolls his shoulders leaning forward remembering the way you said his name. 
“I’ve read a few articles about you.” 
Your mouth parted and Aaron knew what would’ve come out. 
I’m sorry about your wife. 
It wasn’t any question of what articles you read and it wasn’t any question that the team knew what they were too. The most recent ones would be the obvious answer. Haley, George Foyet. SSA Widower Aaron Hotchner, a man who was already closed off trying to break the walls down, for the sake of his team. His friendships - his son. 
“Yeah, hi. Again,” And again, you said your name. “I’m twenty-six. I live and work out of San Diego usually. I used to work at a private investigation agency, it was mostly figuring out if someone’s husband or wife was fuc…fooling around on them and I wanted more so I marketed myself…more. It got me more work, robberies with leads that went cold, missing persons - which were usually twenty-somethings running away from their families. But one day, almost three years ago, the mother of a boy who went missing seven years ago paid me money I did not deserve to help her. I tried my best.” 
“You found a boy who was missing for nearly a decade in a week, I would say your best is more than subpar.” 
The team looked from Reid to you. Aaron couldn’t believe it. 
He didn’t want to be cruel, to say it was luck - and he didn’t, which was good. He was proven wrong nearly after. 
“Did she choose you for a specific reason?” 
J.J crossed her arms. You shook your head. “She was a mother looking for anyone to help her when everyone else turned her away. I was there. After that, I got more cases. More serious cases. I almost went on Alprazolam which is so…not like me, I think? Sorry, but yeah. Murder cases, most of them older and unsolved ones.” 
“And most you solved.” 
You looked to the floor. “It was usually just things the police overlooked, missteps I could go back over. I don’t want to give myself credit where it’s not due but…yeah, I did nicely for a bit and that got around - got around enough to get some news articles thrown on me and the name Girl Sherlock.” 
“It was the New Yorker who honored her with that one. I would agree, there’s a better name somewhere.” 
“The New Yorker?” 
Emily’s brows curved. 
“It’s recent, for the most part. I was building rapport and promotion and it was alright until people were bringing me recent cases. These were family members and loved ones of victims or missing persons who were not waiting for the police to do their jobs, cases rejected by the FBI…sorry.” 
“I don’t think there’s any offense taken.” 
Morgan took a seat, crossed his arms too. You smiled at him, at Reid, Prentiss - J.J, you went down the line. 
All for your mouth and eyes to soften at him when you reach him. 
“There were these murders in Montana, which I’m sure Boy Wiki could tell you about.” 
Morgan nearly snorted, as well as Rossi. Reid blinked, head pulled back. There was that natural banter you had with them already, good-natured raillery that he accepts now. Aaron accepts it. He doesn’t resent the way you laugh with them. He doesn’t, because that'd make you different. 
That would mean he’s becoming worse of a person because of it. 
Maybe it’d be easier to accept what’s happening to him if what was happening to him at the sight and sound of you were things that were more conventional. Nothing like what he feels when he takes listening in on Reid or Morgan when he swears he can hear you laughing all the way outside of his office. Nothing like him wanting you to stay behind on every other case because it means you’d have to do your job like the rest of them, putting yourself in danger. 
Nothing like him thinking the person he hired only six months ago is incapable of doing this job, because then it means you’re helpless. You’re safe, as small as you are in a winter coat worn in the fall. 
It’s all happening too fast, and it needs to stop quickly. 
“Two pairs of parents from the same killer, that wasn’t my conclusion. Police knew it had to be the same man. I was investigating and another murder came, then another. They named him the Northwind Killer. This was a year ago. I was on it and then they stopped. Out of nowhere, I was trying to stay on it. Most of the murders I solved weren’t serial. I was lucky to get hired by someone whose daughter was the victim of the Wyoming Skinner.” You turned, Hotch watched the grip on your bag. “I shouldn’t say lucky, but it was in the sense that I knew this man was the same guy who committed the Northwind killings.” 
“Each victim had their back skinned. Not post-mortem.” 
“He didn’t do that in Montana, but I knew it was him.” 
“How so?” 
“I came in on the third victim each time, just like now. But I think it’s five. It’s always five victims in the end before he moves off to another state. Almost always, I may have not been FBI or of no legal authority but my presence in Wyoming brought enough attention that I think he was scared. Also…the police were doing their job well enough. He stopped at the fourth and didn’t kill for two months. On the dot, same in Montana. He started up again in Akron, Ohio. All of these are brunette women who end up lying face down, he kills five and moves on to a Northern state within two months. I know the signature is different every time, but I think that’s the point with him. Each state, he gets to try something new. Wyoming was skinning, Akron was decapitation. I just don’t know what it means.” 
You put your bag down. 
“Nobody called me for the Akron Phantom, I forced my way in. Same with here, but I think there are things with what I found in the other states that could help you here, maybe before they give him another stupid-ass name too.” 
“It’s not money you’re looking for? Cause we don’t have it.” 
It was the Police Chief you shook your head at. “No, Sir. Honestly? I’m too deep into this now. I know I have no legal jurisdiction or right to this case, I didn’t with Akron. I barely have time when people pay me, but I know I can help. I know this will help the families who’ve put their trust in me.” 
Aaron knew to say yes. There was nothing but things to benefit from if he said yes. You were legitimate according to the words of Reid. You sounded genuine. There was no reason to turn you away. 
“You’ll give a run-down on what you have for each killer?” 
“Yes, Sir. Mr. Hotchner. I can get everything laid out. It’ll take a second, I think I lost my hair clip on my way in. I don’t know how that happened.”
Aaron’s decided not to realize he wouldn’t have turned you away if there was every reason to.
219 notes · View notes
toruro · 2 years ago
Text
— ✧ exes and oh's
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pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.
tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk
fic playlist.
w/c. 15.8k+
a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell
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Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.
“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.
“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.
“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”
“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.
“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.
Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.
You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.
He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.
“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.
That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.
Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.
“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.
You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”
Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”
“Huh? Know what?”
“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”
“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”
“Okay but—”
“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”
And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.
Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.
You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.
As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.
Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.
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“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”
You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”
“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.
“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.
Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.
Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”
Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.
Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”
You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”
“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”
She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”
“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.
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Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.
You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.
He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.
Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—
No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.
Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.
Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.
Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.
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Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.
Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.
Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.
Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.
“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.
Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”
“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.
“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?” Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”
“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.
“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.
Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.
Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.
His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.
He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.
Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.
Fuck, he really needs to throw up.
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You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.
“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.
She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”
You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.
“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.
Your smile drops faster than you can blink.
Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.
Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.
You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.
“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”
It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.
Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.
Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.
Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.
“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.
“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”
He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.
“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.
Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.
Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.
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Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.
You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”
She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”
The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.
“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”
“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”
You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.
“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.
“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”
“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.
“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”
“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”
You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”
“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”
It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.
When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.
You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.
When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.
“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.
“What’s with that face?”
“Nothing! It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.
“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”
“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”
“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.
“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”
“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”
“Will you come to the next one?”
“That depends.”
“On?” he asks hopefully.
“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”
“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”
“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”
“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”
You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”
“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.
He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.
Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.
“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.
You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.
It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.
You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.
The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.
“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.
You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”
“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”
“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.
“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”
You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.
“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”
You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”
“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”
“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.
“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”
You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”
He says your name, and you turn away.
“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”
“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”
“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”
“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”
“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”
“Well if you would just listen—”
“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”
Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”
You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”
“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”
“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.
“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”
You don’t answer as you walk away.
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Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.
He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.
“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”
Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”
Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.
“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.
Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.
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Tonight is not your night.
Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.
After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.
Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.
It’s too much.
You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.
You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.
As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.
Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.
That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.
It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.
You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.
When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.
Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?
Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.
And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.
“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.
“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.
“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?
Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.
“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.
Do you trust Cheol? No.
Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.
Is this about Yejin? No.
Do you trust Cheol? No.
What is this about? I don’t know.
Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.
Can you trust Cheol? …
He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.
Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.
His eyes are soft as you look up at him.
Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.
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Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.
Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.
“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.
“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.
“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.
“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”
“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”
Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”
Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”
“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.
“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.
“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”
“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”
“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.
“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”
“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.
Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.
Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.
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Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”
Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.
“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”
“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.” “Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”
You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”
“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.
“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.
“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”
She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.
You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.
You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.
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“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.
“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”
“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.
What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.
It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.
You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.
Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.
Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.
You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.
“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.
“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”
“I love him,” she corrects you.
“Oh,” is all you manage out.
“You’re pathetic.”
That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.
You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.
You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.
That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.
That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.
Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.
You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.
At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.
It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.
Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.
You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”
There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.
Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.
Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.
You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.
“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.
“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.
“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.
“Hey, when do you get off?”
You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.
“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”
“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”
“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”
You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.
“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.
Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.
“Is that Seungcheol?”
“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.
“I thought you two didn’t talk.”
“Did Joshua tell you that?”
“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.
“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.
You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.
But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.
To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.
He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.
“She’s fine without you.”
“But—”
“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”
“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.
Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”
Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”
“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.
Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.
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You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.
“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.
Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.
“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.
“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.
“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”
You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.
“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”
You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.
“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”
“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.
“I’m sorry.”
You nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks hopefully.
“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”
“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.
“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”
“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”
“I work almost everyday.”
“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.
“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”
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You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.
Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.
You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.
It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.
You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.
Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.
“Iced latte with—”
“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.
“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.
“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.
You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”
“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.
“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”
You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.
“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”
“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”
“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”
“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”
“And what if he fucks up again?”
You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”
“They did, but that isn’t the point.”
“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”
Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.
Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.
You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.
“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.
The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.
“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 
“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.
Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”
“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”
You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”
You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.
There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.
Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.
He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”
“Oh.”
Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.
You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.
But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.
What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.
You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.
Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”
“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.
“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.
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“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”
“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”
“I remember that…” you say quietly.
“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”
“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”
“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”
“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.
“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”
He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.
You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.
“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.
Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.
Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.
And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.
“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”
You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”
“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.
“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”
He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”
“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.
Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.
“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.
“I know, I’m s—”
“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.
“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.
“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”
“You’re right, I know.”
“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.
“I do.”
Do you trust Cheol?
“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”
“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.
“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.
“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”
“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”
Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.” “Fine.”
“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.
“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.
“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”
“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”
Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.
“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.
“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.
“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”
“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”
“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.
“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”
You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”
Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.
He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.
It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.
“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”
You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.
“I’m still going to try.”
You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”
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You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.
“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.
“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.
As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—
The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.
Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.
“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”
“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.
“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.
“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.
“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”
You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.
“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”
You look down. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You believed her?”
“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”
“I said okay.”
“Is it okay?”
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”
“Huh?”
“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.
“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”
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That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”
You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.
“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.
“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.
“Thank you, I love it.”
“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”
“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”
“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”
“Special occasions being…?”
Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”
“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”
“Like two days ago.”
“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.
Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.
Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”
“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.
“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”
“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”
It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”
“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.
Which is how you end up here.
“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.
“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.
“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.
“Everything alright?”
He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.
You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?
Trust me, trust me.
Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.
So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.
One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.
Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.
With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking  your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.
“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.
“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.
His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.
Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.
“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.
“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.
Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.
All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.
Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.
There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.
Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.
“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.
“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.
Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.
It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.
“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.
“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.
It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.
When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.
And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.
All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”
Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.
“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”
And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.
You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.
This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.
Love.
There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.
Trust me, trust me.
I love you.
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a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!
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mypimpademia · 1 year ago
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— Passenger Princess
Izuku x Black! Fem! Reader
Synopsis: Headcanons of what it’s like to be Izuku’s passenger princess
TW: Slightly (but briefly) suggestive towards the end
Bakugo version here!
⇶ One of Izuku’s primary love languages is quality time, so you being his passenger princess is inevitable
⇶ He loves to be with you all the time, and he feels like running around town with you rather than by himself is the perfect way to spend his day
⇶ Riding around with Izuku is something you do at least once a week, normally over the weekend when he has to run errands
⇶ Shoots you a text first thing in the morning, telling you good morning and asking if you wanna come spend the day with him
⇶ He’s an early riser, usually waking up around 5 AM and starting his day with a good workout, so you don’t respond till hours later and he’s okay with that
⇶ He keeps his notification sound on just to make sure he doesn’t miss it when you text back, happily agreeing to come with him
⇶ Izuku immediately puts down whatever weight he’s lifting, or stops his push ups or sit ups, and replies in an instant, telling you he’ll be over in an hour
⇶ Finishes up his workout then takes a quick shower and gets dressed in some sweatpants and a random hoodie before heading out
⇶ You always tell him that he doesn’t have to, but Izuku was raised a gentleman and everytime he comes to pick you up, he’d much rather come to your apartment door to get you instead of just making you walk out to his car
⇶ Always thinks you look the prettiest in a casual outfit, and little to no make up. His heart melts everytime you greet him with a glossy lipped grin, smelling like your favorite perfume
⇶ Never fails to get a kiss from you, despite your protests and whines about how you just put on lip gloss
⇶ On top of quality time, Izuku is alllll about acts of service
⇶ Before you even go anywhere, he asks if you need anything from anywhere
⇶ Won’t take no for an answer, even if you truly don’t need anything
⇶ Takes you to breakfast before anything if you haven’t eaten yet, and pays for the both of you
⇶ Izuku then proceeds to take you anywhere either of you need/want to go
⇶ He may be the one driving, but he still follows whatever you want like a lost puppy
⇶ If you even slightly mention something about going to Target, the beauty supply, Sephora, Ulta, or even IKEA, you can bet that’s where you’ll end up next
⇶ He’s got zero self restraint, and although he’s grown out of letting people walk all over him, he’s still a people pleaser to an extent, and will try and make his loved ones happy by any means
⇶ Especially you.
⇶ Throws anything that you even glance at into the cart
⇶ Don’t even say “Aw, that’s cute,” to anything, because he’ll offer to buy it for you on the spot no matter the price
⇶ Because he grew up with a single mother who did what she could to make sure he lived well, Izuku can be hesitant to spend money
⇶ But that only applies to him spending money on himself and others spending on him
⇶ No matter how much he loves something, if that price tag isn’t pretty, he’s not getting it.
⇶ But when it comes to you? You could drag him into every luxury store on Earth, and he’d swipe his card on every item you ring up without even looking at the price.
⇶ You never make him spend crazy amounts on you of course, but he denies you everytime you try and deny him buying you things
“What? You don’t love me anymore?”
He was exaggerating, of course. He knows you love him, but he gets pouty when you don’t let him show affection the way he wants to.
“Don’t start with that, Zuku,” you rolled your eyes. “And put that back, you are not getting me that. I wouldn’t even buy that for myself for that kind of money.”
Izuku kissed his teeth in response. He could be so sassy sometimes, only he would get this riled up about not being allowed to buy someone a necklace.
“Okay? That’s you,” he argued. “I’d buy it for you, you know I will.”
Emphasis on the ‘I will’, and not ‘I would’. Izuku has always been the stubborn type, and not even you could change that about him.
“Izuku, absolutely not,” you shook your head at him.
He sighed, walking up behind you and placing the gold rope chain against your collarbone.
“C‘mon angel,” he whispered. “You were just talking about how beautiful this was and how you love it so much. Lemme buy it for you.”
He was sweet talking you now, and it was working. You hated it.
“Izu, baby,” you started, but he cut you off before you could protest again.
“You’d look so good with it,” he put the necklace on you, clasping it and turning you towards a mirror. “See? And I could get you a pendant for it, maybe put your initial on it.”
Izuku pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.
“Or even mine.”
Your face was burning up, and you huffed in defeat.
“…How much is it, again?” You asked.
Izuku smiled at you threw the mirror.
“Don’t worry about that, princess.”
⇶ If the man ever went bankrupt, it’d be because of you, but he wouldn’t even complain
⇶ As much as he loves to spoil you on your shopping trips, grocery shopping is his favorite
⇶ It feels so intimate and domestic, he seriously considers proposing to you then and there
⇶ Picking out veggies that look fresh, seeing which fruits are ripened to your liking, and buying extras of things just because they’re on a good sale
⇶ Groceries are always your last activity of the day, just because you always run around doing so much, Izuku doesn’t want to have fresh food sitting in his car for hours on end
⇶ But he always loves walking around with you from aisle to aisle looking for what you need and checking off the grocery list
⇶ Once again urges you to get anything you need or want, and still won’t take no for an answer
⇶ Sometimes, you just pick up a pack of gum or some candy at the register so he stops asking
⇶ Izuku never wants to leave you when the day is coming to an end, so you always go back to his place to put away groceries and cook some dinner together while he convinces you to stay the night
⇶ He’s lucky he’s a pretty boy that’s got a way with words, otherwise, all his sweet talking would never work
⇶ You already have everything you would need at his house. Shower supplies, your usually lotion and other moisturizers, clothes, and more bonnets than anyone needs
⇶ And of course there’s two of every bonnet, just so he can match you
⇶ After dinner, you take a shower together
⇶ Aside from Izuku not knowing how to keep his hands to himself when he offers to wash you, showering with him is relaxing and endearing
⇶ He holds you whole hot water runs over you both, fixes your shower cap so your hair doesn’t get wet, and lets you wash his face for him
⇶ On top of your matching bonnets, you have matching pjs as well, and a lot of your sets are hero themed, naturally
⇶ Izuku lights up a vanilla scented candle, then gets an assortment of snacks from the kitchen while you pick out a movie or a show to binge watch
⇶ And after a long, hard, and oh so draining day of sitting pretty in Izuku’s passenger seat while he buys you anything and everything, you fall asleep on the couch with him, curled under a blanket, and wrapped in his arms <3
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thisapplepielife · 5 months ago
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Written for @steddiesongfics.
Heat Waves
August Prompt: Heat Waves by Glass Animals (2020) | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: There's a Heat Wave in Hawkins, Eddie POV, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Pining, Voyeurism, Masturbation
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It's fucking hot. 
The fan is doing very little to keep up with this unbearable heat wave they're going through this summer. It's hotter than balls, and Eddie is absolutely certain it has something to do with the after effects of Vecna. Like cracking open the earth somehow unleashed the heat straight from hell itself. It's undeniable that this area of Indiana is ten or more degrees hotter this summer than the surrounding areas, and honestly, watching the meteorologists bend over backwards trying to explain the cause of it is often hilarious.
There is no explanation they are ever gonna come up with that makes any sense, but god bless 'em for continuing to try.
Eddie is laying in his bed, listening to music on his headphones, because the neighbors are far too eager to call the cops on him these days. So, Wayne gently suggested the headphones, and for Wayne, Eddie obliged. Tonight, it's just him and Iron Maiden, as he lays in his boxers, hair damp with sweat. Even now, in the middle of the night, the temperature inside the trailer is nothing short of miserable. 
The scars on his side are tight, and no matter how much lotion he rubs into them, he still worries that they are always gonna be this way. Feel this way. Look this way.
Just. Be this way.
At least no one will see him here in the dark.
Wayne's at work, Henderson's surely at home in bed, and Steve is gone for the night. 
Steve's here a lot, too much probably for Steve's sanity, but Eddie isn't about to shoo him away. No fucking way. But he doesn't blame him for not wanting to stay all night in a trailer with very little air movement. It's a hot box. 
The government is supposed to do better, this is allegedly just temporary, but Eddie knows better. They brushed them off into a trailer that's worse than the one that was ripped apart, and this is exactly where they'll stay.
He's sure of it.
Temporary his ass.
But he doesn't expect Steve to suffer through it, too. Not when he has a big empty house, with all that expensive central air.
Steve tried to get him to come back to his house, but Eddie hasn't done that since his parents showed up unannounced on weekend and freaked the fuck out that Eddie Munson, Murderer, was on their couch.
Assholes.
It's a goddamn miracle that Steve isn't one, at least not anymore. Maybe not ever. Eddie isn't sure. Not now. He always thought King Steve was the asshole, but maybe, just maybe, Eddie was the asshole. Maybe they both were, in different ways. Eddie can't decide what's true.
Eddie thinks about Steve all the time. Sometimes he's all Eddie thinks about. He shouldn't. He knows that. They're friends, and that's a miracle in itself. Even if Steve did have an interest in guys, Eddie's sure he's not Steve's type. Especially not now that he's damaged goods.
The fan blows across his body, back and forth, and his one remaining nipple comes to attention with the breeze. Eddie isn't even sure why. It's not cold in here, but he still rubs his thumb across it.
It feels good, and he doesn't take for granted that he can feel anything at all there. Not now.
His dick stirs, and it's too fucking hot for that. Unless he wants to go take a cool shower, and he really doesn't want to move from right where he is. Not tonight.
But his cock hardens, trapped against his thigh, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock upwards. Wrapping his hand around it loosely. Jacking slowly, eyes closed. He doesn't intend to take this anywhere, not really, but if he can just show it a little half-assed attention, maybe it'll settle down.
Lazy stroke, after lazy pull, and before he knows it, he's edging himself towards a slow, easy orgasm, even if his hand is way too fucking dry, and this wasn't how he intended on this going.
But it feels good, so he keeps it up. Loose grip, slow strokes. He prefers not to rub any additional skin off of his body, thanks. He's lost enough, as is.
He thinks about Steve. How it'd feel if it was his hand instead, breathing out his name, "Steve."
And that's when he hears it, a whine.
Eddie's eyes snap open, and Steve is standing in the shadows of the doorway.
He's a mirage. The heat wave faking him out.
But he's not shimmering. He's not moving an inch. Eddie can barely see him at all, just the familiar outline.
"Steve?" Eddie finally chokes out, voice scared, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.
"Yeah," Steve says, "it's me. Sorry. I was staring."
Eddie laughs. He was staring. Eddie wasn't gonna mention it, but if he wants to bring it up, that's fine.
"Never seen a man jerking it before?" Eddie asks, not pulling his hand out of his boxers. His dick is still hard, and very interested in the man in front of him.
Steve licks his lips, and Eddie's dick jumps against his palm, "Yeah. Sure. Just. Not you."
"Well, I'm only a man," Eddie says, slowly pulling his hand upwards, going to stop touching himself with Steve in the room, when Steve startles him.
"No. Don't."
"Don't?" Eddie questions, hand stilled. "You want to watch?"
Steve nods.
Fucking hell.
Eddie's not shy, but this is brand new territory, even for him. Letting his friend watch him finish jerk off is nothing he's ever dreamed of before.
Eddie rubs his palm over the head of his dick, gathering up the precum there, trying to help the glide in any way he can.
His eyes are still on Steve, and Steve's own palm is crushed against his jean-clad crotch. Goddamn. 
Eddie strokes himself, lazily, keeping eye contact with Steve. Steve's sweating, drops running down his forehead. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie, and it's not even close. 
Steve's rubbing himself through his jeans, and his dick looks fucking huge, at least from here. Eddie wants to see it, touch it, taste it. Get fucked by it. Stroke it while he fucks Steve. Any of it. All of it. If he'd only be allowed,
And as much as Eddie wants to see Steve stand there stroking himself while fully-clothed until he comes in his goddamn jeans from watching him, Eddie wants more.
Eddie makes a decision, he tugs down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric confines. Showing all of himself to Steve. His scarred hips, his hard cock, all for Steve.
Steve's eyes are glued to him, watching as Eddie holds onto the base of his dick, cupping his balls, holding everything for Steve to see. 
"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.
"I've shown you mine," Eddie says, with a bravery he didn't know he had. He must be delirious from the heat, "Wanna show me yours?"
Steve's nodding, popping the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper, wiggling the tight denim down his thighs, taking his briefs with them.
Oh, fuck.
He's everything Eddie wished he might be, and more. 
"Look at you," Eddie says, "Can I touch?"
And that's all it takes, Steve is shimmying across the room, kicking off his shoes, getting fully undressed as Eddie yanks his boxers off, doing the same.
Then, Steve's naked body is covering his. His mouth finding Eddie's, tongue immediately sliding inside, as if they've been doing this together forever.
Eddie moans, hands rubbing up and down Steve's back, his ass, and they're both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Slick as they rub against each other, rutting their hard cocks skin-to-skin. Desperate. Hot.
This is a whole 'nother level of horny. Eddie's never felt like this in his whole life. He feels drunk, stoned, fucked up on this man who's rubbing off on him.
Eddie cups his ass cheek, squeezing, before brushing the tips of his fingers against Steve's asshole, and Steve bucks against him, coming.
Oh, fuck. They are gonna have so much fun together.
Steve leans back, and rubs his palm through his own come, and then wraps his fist around Eddie's dick, and starts jerking him off in earnest. Eddie can't decide what to look at. His own cock, being worked over by Steve. Steve's face. Or Steve's softening dick, laying against his thigh, thick and wet.
It's all so fucking good.
Steve twists his wrist, and Eddie comes, hips lifting off the bed.
And Steve smiles, laying back down on him. It's too hot for that, way, way too hot, but Eddie says nothing. He just rubs his fingers up and down Steve's slick back.
They're gonna need a shower, and soon. But right now, Eddie'll suffer through the heat wave to have this wet dream of a moment together.
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