#i never posted this one to ao3 because i always meant to do this
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As a new writer, is it normal to want to know readers cried while reading something I cried about while writing? 'Cause, I just posted a fic last night that I cried sooo many times during writing (mostly out of cute aggression lol. little eddieworm is just so tiny! 😭), and now just getting 'likes' and 'kudos' don't feel like enough?? Which, I also feel bad about now lol, 'cause they should feel like enough! So, I guess I was just wondering if that feeling gets easier the more I write and publish?
Phew, this is a hard one.
First things first, you should never ever feel bad for wanting people to interact with your works. I remember a poll going around recently that was like “Would you rather have 100 kudos and no likes or comments, 100 likes and no comments or kudos, or 10 comments with no kudos or likes?” - and guess what won by a wide margin?
That being said, the feeling of screaming into a void is something that a lot of writers on here, even the “popular” and “successful” ones, struggle with. Yes, it can be frustrating opening tumblr or ao3 and seeing likes, kudos and reblogs, but no comments.
Because, ultimately, this is why we share our works, right? We may write for ourselves, but we share our stories because we want to connect with others. And this is especially true for those stories that are somehow ‘close’ to us - the ones that made us feel things while writing, the ones that we worked particularly long or hard on, the ones that we are proud of. And getting no feedback on those, or negative feedback even? That always stings, even with “more experience”.
Now that I've brought the mood down, here's what you can do about it:
Find your crowd!
Part of this WILL come with time as your stories find the people they are meant for. Apart from that, joining discord and actively chatting with ppl on servers really was a game changer for me. Participating in daily writing challenges like "sentence of the day", sharing snippets, that kind of stuff. (I'm mainly on smaller servers these days bc of ✨️overwhelm✨️, but in the beginning, the larger ones really helped me find my people.)
Taking part in challenges like @steddiemicrofic , @steddieholidaydrabbles or @steddiebingo also helps if you want to build a community here on tumblr.
Today I know that, even if nobody else likes my stuff, I'll always have my besties in my corner, and that helps immensely with the insecurities. 💗✨️
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blindmagdalena · 2 years ago
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The Fall
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2.8k mostly sfw homelander x reader. christmas adjacent. depowered homelander.
Summary: After being struck by an unidentified projectile that renders him powerless, Homelander crash lands in your backyard, wholly at your mercy.
this is a rework of this original prompt. inspired by the fable of the mouse that aids the lion whose paw has been stuck by a thorn.  ♡
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Homelander is over a hundred feet in the air when he hears something whistling through the sky behind him. Some kind of projectile. A small missile, maybe. It's nothing he hasn't handled before: It could blow up in his face and he would be fine. He’s more curious about what exactly it is, who’s stupid enough to fire it at him, and where it’s coming from. 
With that in mind–in that split second he has to react–he decides to forgo dodging it and instead attempt to catch it.  However, as the mystery projectile gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel. 
What the fuck? 
His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him hard in his left side rib, exploding in fumes that fill his lungs and coat his skin. In an instant, he feels pain like he's been turned inside out, a sensation worse than anything he’s felt since childhood. Instantly he's plummeting towards the ground, crashing directly into your backyard in an eruption of snow and yard furniture.
With his vision going black, the last thing he hears is the sound of the world turning deafeningly quiet.
When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No–compressed, hands over his chest, pushing again and again in a steady rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he drives his fist into your unfamiliar form, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.
You should have flown back thirty feet with a hit like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass, coughing. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body heavy. He's having trouble breathing, every ragged inhale a struggle, and his heart is pounding.
"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in. His own brain is hammering against the confines of his skull, beating at the backs of his eyes.
He’s certain that he’s halfway to cardiac arrest, but no matter how he tries to focus, he can’t calm himself. His strength is gone. It’s gone. He looks at you, you, who should have a hole punched through your chest. Instead, you’re staggering to your feet, totally unharmed. 
"Homelander!" You address sharply, audibly trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. He can see his own fear reflected in your eyes. You’re just as confused as he is. Just a stupid little mouse that crawled out of your hole and found him like this. "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."
There’s something about the sharp authority in your voice mixed with an undeniable quiver of compassion that catches his attention. It could be the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.
It must be pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. You don’t look like you should be able to carry him. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.
You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag, a bottle of water, pills, and a first aid kit. He watches you fumble with it, hands shaking. He assumes it’s adrenaline, though you lack the acidic stench of it. No, you probably don’t. He just can’t smell it anymore. He can’t smell anything except the faint tinge of blood, and whatever nauseating scented candle you use to stink up your home. Though, even that’s distant compared to what he’s used to. However, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to panic. Is this what shock feels like?
He takes the water you offer him, but denies the pills. “No, no. I have no idea what that shit will do to me right now.” You nod, setting the bottle aside. You then lean over him, inspecting the level of damage. His ears are ringing, and his whole body is throbbing with sharp, painful aches. Maybe the pills would help, but he’s never had to take painkillers before. He’d rather swallow tacks than lean on something so pedestrian.
As you work, he notices a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his fist. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it, remembering the blow he’d dealt you.
You startle, looking down where he touches with a wince. The skin looks as tender as he feels. It must sting. Is he bruised like this beneath his suit? The thought of these same ugly dark marks mirrored on his own body brings him visceral disgust. 
"Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as your voice can muster. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.
I'm not worried about you, he thinks derisively. "That should have caved in your chest."
"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another.
If not for how clumsy your movements feel, he’d think you’ve done this before. There is care and determination in the way you tend to him, but no obvious medical expertise. Even the kit you pull from looks out of date and sparse. You probably picked it up from a gas station on a whim because you needed safety pins. "I think these need stitches," you say as you carefully apply bandages, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak. What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, blowing a crater in their yard in the process, and then thinks to give them CPR?
"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. That breaks him out of his stupor. He catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks, despite how pitifully weak his own grasp feels. "No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the bizarre sensation is gradually beginning to abate.
Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent. 
He hopes to fuck that it isn’t. "Okay," you say tentatively. Instead of leaving, however, you reposition to continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing from his temples down his jaw. He watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.
He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, that for a moment he almost forgets you're strangers to each other.
"What're you doing?" He asks eventually, voice low. You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."
Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight, leaving him uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for it. "I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."
"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?" Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on bated breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.
Looking back up at you, he schools his expression into calm focus. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up. 
"I need to lay low awhile." He can feel his powers steadily returning. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.
You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.
"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"
"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."
"Stay here," he says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.
He watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.
Even a curtain is better than no door at all.
After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first. It has him rubbing at his ears, screwing his eyes shut. It rolls in and out of focus, making it difficult to adjust to. “Are you okay?” You ask from the other end of the couch, where you’ve been sitting with remarkable patience. Maybe you’re afraid of him. He hates not being able to tell by the rate of your heart.
“Peachy keen,” he replies flatly. “Hearing’s coming back.”
“That’s good,” you say, though the inflection you end with makes it sound more like a question.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good, it’s just… Loud,” he says, grinding the heel of his palm into his temple. His skull is still pounding. “Everything’s all… Coming back in a jumble. Giving me a fucking headache,” he says, though as he speaks, he realizes he’s able to focus fairly well on the conversation, drowning out the more intrusive ambient sounds. “Keep talking.”
You look surprised by his demand, but after a beat, you oblige. After maybe an hour of idle conversation, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.
That’s just what you’ve told him.
From his personal observations, he's learned that you’re a perpetual fidgeter, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.
"I think it's lucky for you that I’m so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so inexplicably charming–nose wrinkled like you’ve somehow pulled a fast one on him–that Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.
"Oh, steady! Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does, hands out as if to catch him. He stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.
His lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. Not quite new. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it. "Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.
You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms loosely to survey the damage with him. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.
Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hanging in the doorway makes him smile deviously.
Without warning, he puts his hands on your waist and spins you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you.
Your heart quickens to a race in his ears, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his head with both hands, deepening the kiss of your own volition.
Not one to be out done, he adjusts his hold on you, one arm wrapping properly around your waist while the other slides up to cup the back of your neck, gloved fingers gently squeezing your bare skin.
To his delight, you retaliate with your tongue, slipping it between his lips and coaxing his forth.
Just full of surprises, little mouse.
Maybe you aren't so boring after all.
He meets you eagerly, exhaling a rough, excited little huff through his nose, dropping the hand at your waist to grab a cheeky squeeze full of your ass, wringing a soft moan from you that sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock.
When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed warmly all over. You smell of antiseptic wipes and peppermint, like Christmas in a hospital. It’s bizarrely appealing.
"What was that?" You ask, dazed.
"Mistletoe," he purrs, tipping his head back without taking his eyes off you, settling his hands back on your waist.
You look up slowly–taking a solid few seconds to process–and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you. 
"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You manage to ask after swallowing back the lump in your throat, your shoulders relaxing, though your heart continues to gallop in your chest. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."
It's Homelander's turn to laugh. "Oh, no. I haven't even begun to say thank you yet," he assures you, hands lingering on your hips. 
The kiss had been pure unrestricted impulse, nothing he intended to follow through on. However, now that you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, your skin warm against his, your eyes half lidded, he’s not sure that he wants to let you go. Your lips shine where you’ve licked the taste of his from them. 
“I think for your good deeds, you’re owed a very merry Christmas,” he says, waggling his brows. 
You give a flustered, incredulous bark of laughter, covering your mouth as you look away from him, that flush of yours intensifying, making your whole body thrum warmly. You wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm on these cold winter nights if he had his way with you.
“Okay, well, uhm, thank you for… for that thought,” you say, tripping over your words in a way you haven’t this entire encounter. “You hit your head pretty hard, though so maybe before you make any promises, we make sure you get checked out by an actual doctor,” you say, pushing lightly against his chest.
He maintains his hold for just a second longer, utterly immovable. It feels good to be himself again. He runs his tongue along his teeth, downright predatory in the way he stares down at you, but he does relinquish his hold.
“You should come with me to the tower. You know, now that you’re… Compromised,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “Someone might come looking for me here. Interrogate you on my condition.”
Real fear flashes in your eyes at that. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he gives back gravely.
“Uh… Okay. Uhm, let me… I’ll pack a bag,” you say nervously, stepping away from him to do just that.
“Okie-dokie,” he gives back simply, glancing around your home while he waits. He picks up an odd little gnome with a big red hat that covers everything but a little button nose, and a long white beard. Maybe he’ll convince you to bring along some of your festive decorations.
Merry Christmas to me, he thinks, already daydreaming about twisting the head off of whoever hit him with some kind of neutralizing agent.
He might thank them for the impromptu date while he’s at it.
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honeekyuu · 8 months ago
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stuck. [tsukishima kei x f!reader]
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>>Tsukishima is the kind of best friend that makes you want to leave him, but you just can't bring yourself to.
or
You end up confessing in the middle of a fight and he fucks you to show you how much he really cares.<<
______________________________
tags: smut, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, alcohol/drinking, college au, tsukishima kei is a dick, drunk sex, unprotected sex (dont do that), creampie, dom/sub undertones
a/n: ahahahaha this was my first hq work posted on ao3, and it is everything Mean Best Friend Tsukishima Kei that i needed. i hope you enjoy!
[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]
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“Okay, I’m done! How do I look?”
“You look like shit.”
You sigh, trying not to let him get to you. 
Tsukki’s always been this way - dismissive, nonchalant, indifferent. Through middle school, he’d been sarcastic. He’d been snarky and brutally honest. And in high school, he’d only gotten worse. 
Anyone else in your position might have left him already. People you’d known in school had told you to find someone else, a better friend. Best friends don’t treat each other the way Tsukishima treats you , they’d said. His teammates had been in the habit of scolding him whenever he’d go too far, whenever he’d push your buttons a little too hard. The only one who could see your side had been Yamaguchi, and even he’d had his reservations at times.
But other people don’t know Tsukishima Kei. They know the Tsukki that would refuse to share his notes with you after you’d been out sick. The Tsukki that would steal parts of your lunch and hold it high above your head, far out of your reach, and call you mean names with a cruel smirk. The Tsukki that would often leave you behind after school and head home without you, leaving you to text him and wonder where he’d gone.
They don’t know that the same person would show up at your house with his notes, walking you through calculus and poetry lessons himself because he knows you learn better with a teacher. And, even though you never called him out for it, he would show up the day you’d been out sick, too, just to check on you. Just to watch movies in bed with you, waving off your concerns about him getting sick. He hated being sick, but he would ignore your complaints and force you to relax - because you’d only ever get sick when you overworked yourself, which meant he hadn’t been watching over you closely enough. 
They don’t know that Tsukki would secretly swap your lunch out for his own - better, homemade food that wasn’t the cafeteria slop you were often forced to buy because your parents weren’t home a lot. He would watch you push the food around on your tray while you’d laugh at something Hinata had said, identifying at least 3 things you were allergic to on that plate. So he would reach for it, leaving his own (allergen-free, thanks to Akiteru) lunch open for retaliation while he’d use his height as a way to take out his frustrations on you - his irritation that you never seemed to put yourself first, choosing starvation over just simply asking your parents for money before they go out of town.
And the times he’d leave you behind - well, half the time, it had been an accident. It was impossible to remember your packed schedule, all your clubs and student council meetings lumping into a vague ‘ Y/n’s busy ’ block of time in his mind. The other half of the time, it was because he needed to be alone. It’s not that he’s an asshole and loves to make you suffer - in fact, he would often call you later the same night, apologizing in his own, special Tsukishima Kei way and explaining himself. He gets overwhelmed easily, overstimulated by too many people, too many responsibilities, too many social expectations. So he would disappear as soon as he was allowed, needing to be alone with himself and no one else.
So, the people in your life had known a different version of Tsukishima than you do. Where they’d seen a bully, cold and unrelenting even for his best friend, you’d known nothing more than an introvert, expressing his care in a way that was unrecognizable to anyone but you.
Care that had carried over into college, the last three years filled with a Tsukishima Kei that even you hadn’t expected. A version of him that walks you from the library to your dorm at night, despite his increasingly hectic volleyball schedule. A Tsukishima who calls you in the morning on his walk to class to make sure you haven’t overslept, because - even if the calls consist of nothing but your crabby morning disposition, berating him for pulling you from your slumber - he knows you’ll thank him later, as you often do.
A Tsukishima who lets you drag him to parties, even though he hates them to his very core. He lets you tug him along to your dorm, lets you force him to sit through the hour-long ordeal of choosing your outfit. Lets you spin in front of him when you’re done, clearly pleased with yourself, and ask him how you look.
Lets you throw a pillow at his face when he tells you that you look like shit, even if he wholeheartedly believes otherwise.
“Tsukki, can’t you say one nice thing to me? For once?”
He scoffs when you put your hands on your hips, turning his gaze back to his phone as he lounges on your bed like it’s his own. It might as well be, with the amount of time he spends in this room.
“That would require you to have something worth being nice about, wouldn’t it?” He smiles mockingly when he catches the irritated twitch of your eyebrow.
“You’re a dick.”
“Nothing new about that.” Tsukishima watches as you turn back to your closet with a huff, taking the time to look you over appreciatively. No , he thinks, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts and the way your dress hugs your hips, the material tight but soft. His hand itches with the urge to touch it, to find out for himself. It’s not that you have nothing. It’s that you have too much.
He sighs, sitting up, and runs his fingers through his hair.
You have too much, and it’s fucking annoying. 
His eyes flick to you again, his own irritation growing. You’d always been too good. Too perfect, too overwhelming. He’d hated falling in love. It had sucked. High school had sucked . Having you cling to him every day and finding himself clinging right back. Not understanding these complicated feelings he has - ones that want nothing more than to hold you in his arms, against others that would tell him to push you away with his sharp tongue, to protect himself from this terrifying feeling. 
And now that he’s accepted it - it had only taken him the entirety of high school and at least a year of college - he almost hates it more. Being so close to you and somehow still feeling like he can’t breathe because it’s not nearly close enough.
So he stands, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans, and stares you down when you finally turn back to him.
“Can we go? The sooner we get to this stupid thing, the sooner I can go home.” He thinks he sees a flicker of hurt flash across your eyes, but that can’t be it. He’s said worse things before. You always bounce back, a retort on the tip of your tongue for everything he could throw at you. You always match him, blow for blow.
So why, then, can he see your jaw clenching as you turn away from him? Why does he feel like you’re pulling your jacket off the rack with more force than usual? Why are you leaving without responding?
What the fuck ?
-
Fuck Tsukishima Kei . 
It’s the only thought in your mind as you down the shot, wincing as the alcohol slides down your throat. You’d lost count of the drinks you’ve had about an hour ago, when the thought had been something more like ‘ Fuck Tsukishima Kei. Stupid fucking idiot. Never thinks before he speaks ’.
Clearly, you’d mellowed out a little, but the anger is still there, simmering in your chest and threatening to rise every time he gets close to you.
The walk to the frat had been silent, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about your mood, only scrolling through his phone and occasionally glancing over at you. You’d felt the irritation crawling under your skin with every pass of his eyes over you, but you hadn’t returned any of his gazes, only looking forward to getting to the party and being with other people.
But he hadn’t let you wander off so easily, his tall form following close behind as you’d tried to find some of your friends from class. You can tell he’s been trying to silently check on you, like he always does when he knows he’s bothered you. 
He’d brought you drinks, only smiling emptily when you’d glared up at him. It shouldn’t have made your heart skip that he’d done nothing more than offered you a drink, tapping his own red solo cup against yours and matching you shot for shot. It shouldn’t affect you when he does the bare minimum. 
He’d danced close to you, one hand on your waist and his warm chest pressed firmly against your back. You’d hated it - feeling so safe in the arms of someone who had derived pleasure from picking on you your whole lives. And even if that’s not true - even if you only take into account all the ways that he’d taken care of you, celebrating all your accomplishments with you and holding you while you’d cried about your failures - you still shouldn’t be feeling that familiar tug of nerves in your stomach when he presses his hips against your ass, slipping his fingers through yours and pulling you close.
And when that hadn’t worked - when you’d held your ground and managed to cling to your anger from earlier - he’d even tried to talk to you about it. That isn’t normal for him by any means, but you could see the confusion in his eyes when he’d leaned down to be heard over the music, mumbling his question against the shell of your ear.
“Are we okay ?”
It had taken everything in you to resist him, to resist the pull that is Tsukishima Kei. The same pull that had kept you next to him all these years, through all the teasing and the poking. The pull that kept reminding you that he’s just bad at expressing his feelings. He’s just bad at being nice. He’s just bad at holding his tongue.
But that doesn’t mean you have to sit and take it every time.
So you’d only smacked his hand away and glared when he’d cupped the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him. Stomping over to the bar, you had asked the frat boy for a shot of something random. 
After downing it, you try not to look back but fail miserably - you might be pissed, but you’ve never been immune to him. You probably never would be.
Glancing back, you can see his blond head in the sea of people. He’s trying to make his way to the bar, but his head is whipping to the side at the sound of something. A tall guy - you recognize it’s someone from his team - appears at his side, clapping his shoulder, and you can only assume he’d heard his name being called.
They start talking, Tsukki seeming distracted but drunk enough to at least pretend he’s interested in the conversation. You look away just as he’s turning his head back to you - you won’t be caught looking his way again tonight.
Luckily, there’s someone stepping up beside you, catching your attention with their bright smile.
“Y/n?!” 
You blink, startled by the recognition. But when you finally see who it is, you can’t help but beam.
“Oh my God, Bokuto?!” You leap toward him, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and dragging him into a hug. You feel him laugh against you, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you in tight. When you step away, he keeps you close, hand on your hips.
“What are you doing here?! You don’t go here, do you?” 
The man shakes his head, grinning down at you and pointing over his shoulder.
“Nah, I’m just visiting a few friends over the weekend.”
You glance past him, seeing a group of boys that seem like they could be familiar to you, but you can never tell - Bokuto Koutarou is friends with everyone.
When you look back, you catch his eyes wandering down the length of your body, his gaze snapping up to yours when you clear your throat. He has the decency to look ashamed.
“Sorry, Y/n - You’ve just, uh… grown up a lot since high school.”
You flush deeply, something that makes him grin when he catches it. 
At least someone thinks I look good tonight .
You’re smiling flirtily up at him, feeling confident enough to drag this conversation out. He seems to notice, an interested glimmer in his eye. But then he’s glancing over your shoulder, and his eyebrows are raising in surprise.
A hand wraps around your bicep, much tighter than necessary in your opinion. You barely have time to spot the blond hair in your peripheral vision before you’re being dragged away. You can only wave at Bokuto, who looks a little disappointed but mostly just amused.
Tsukishima only lets you go when you’re outside, his hand dropping from your skin like you’ve burned him. You whip around to face him, more than ready to yell at him on the front lawn of this frat house. But he’s already walking away, in the direction of your dorm.
“Dude, what the hell? You didn’t even say hi to him - he’s one of your closest friends!” You stalk after him, determined to figure out what could possibly be going through his mind. But he won’t answer you, just shaking his head and mumbling something that sounds vaguely like ‘exactly ’ as he makes his way down the street.
You scoff, turning back to the frat. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re just going to follow him home quietly.
You start to head back to the party, but you barely make it five steps before his fingers are closing around your wrist and tugging you back to him. When you look up, enraged at his entitlement, you see that he’s incensed, staring down at you with wild eyes. He looks pissed, which he has no reason to be. But there’s something else there, something that’s contributing to this almost panicked anger sitting just below the surface.
“Tsukishima, what do you want?” 
He bristles at the use of his full name, golden eyes narrowing as he stares down at you.
“You’re going home.” He punctures every word with barely concealed irritation, finally turning and dragging you back down the street. You don’t say anything this time, feeling that previously mellowed out anger returning full force as you stare at the back of his head.
The walk back is just as silent as the walk to the party had been, but this time you feel ready to explode. You’d been annoyed before, bothered and hurt by his words and the way he treats you.
Now you’re just ready to pick a fight. Which means you’ll probably say something you’ll regret if you don’t get away from him soon and take some time to calm the hell down.
When you get to your door, you’ve already got your keys out. He’d let go of you in the elevator, finally realizing that he’d been gripping you way too hard. You might just be able to get inside without him following.
But the second you unlock the door and slip inside, not a word said to the blond as you try to shut the door behind you, his hand is slamming down on the wood. He stops your attempt, staring down at you with annoyance.
“You’re joking, right?” And then he’s pushing into your room with an angry sigh, letting the door swing shut behind him. You only step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him over.
“What do you want?”
“What do I wa- What is your problem tonight ?” He squints down at you, eyebrows furrowed. When you only raise yours, his jaw is clenching. “Why the fuck are you so mad at me?”
“Because-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath in order to maintain some semblance of control. “Because you’re an asshole, Tsukishima-”
“Stop fucking calling me that, Y/n-”
“-and maybe I’m just not in the mood for your shit tonight!” You yell over him, clenching your fists against your body. You need him to go. You cannot let him see you cry.
“I’m always an asshole! How is tonight any different-” He’s taken a step further into the small bedroom, and you take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. You’re immensely glad you don’t have a roommate, so they don’t have to deal with the mess that is your friendship with Tsukki.
“Tonight isn’t any different, you dick. It’s the same as it always is. I’m just tired of it tonight.” You feel yourself growing angrier when he just laughs, throwing you a mocking smile as he paces the room. He’s definitely drunk.
“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize I needed to account for Little Miss Y/n’s fucking mood swings whenever I open my mouth-”
“What the fuck did you just sa-”
“I just didn’t take you for someone who’s sensitive-”
“Well, maybe I am, you fucking asshole! ”
You’re definitely drunk, too.
Tsukishima stops short, taking you in. He can’t hide the shock on his face when he sees you - the way your hands are shaking at your sides, the quiver of your lip as you try your best to stand up to him. You’re trying so hard not to cry, he can tell.
Wow, I really am an asshole.
“Y/n… I-”
“Did you really think I would still want to go to that party once you’d made it clear how much you didn’t want to go? That you think it’s stupid to hang out with your best friend on a Friday night doing something she wants to do - because your idea of a good time is so different from mine that you would try make me feel like a fucking idiot for it?” 
Tsukishima’s starting to panic - had he made you feel that way? He’d just been talking. He hadn’t even been thinking about how it would make you feel - he’d thought nothing could hurt you, that your friendship is guaranteed and that having you next to him is a given. 
Now he feels like he’s losing you. 
“Maybe, once in a fucking while , it wouldn’t hurt you too much to tell a girl she’s pretty when she’s just spent an hour trying to look good for you.”
The frustration on Tsukishima’s face drops, and he’s left staring emptily at you. 
That’s what this is about? 
He stares for a while, his eyes just flicking back and forth between yours as he thinks of how to take that. It makes you nervous. You’d said too much. 
“Fuck this.”
You blink, staring up at him in disbelief. What is that supposed to mean?
“What do you- mmh -” 
Tsukishima had crossed the room in just two steps, taking your face in his hands while you’d been preparing to yell at him again. And then he’d smashed his lips to yours.
Your heart jumps into your throat, and you let out a noise of shock, muffled against his mouth. Your eyes remain wide open, flitting in a panic over his features as you feel his lips move against yours. His brow is furrowing behind his glasses, and you’re realizing that you still haven’t kissed him back. You push against his lips experimentally, watching that wrinkle between his eyes all but disappear when he feels it, and you think it looks a lot like relief.
He’s nervous.
Your body moves of its own accord, hands sliding up his chest to grip at his shirt, and your eyes slide closed when you feel one of his hands fall to your waist. He nudges you backward, and you feel the hard surface of your closet door against your back.
Tsukishima slides his tongue against your bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he feels you inhale sharply in response. He takes advantage of your surprise, pushing past your lips and brushing his tongue against yours. When you slide your hands up and around his neck, tugging at the hair there, he groans and leans down. 
Planting a hand on the door behind you, he angles his head, slotting his lips against yours. He presses his hips into you, and you can feel how hard he’s getting. You sigh into his mouth at the feeling, smiling when his body reacts to the sound, his cock hardening against your thigh. 
Tsukishima Kei might be impossible to read sometimes, but he never could hide from you.
He drops his mouth to your neck, latching onto a spot under your ear and using his other arm to pull you flush against him. The sounds you’re making are clear now, soft gasps and whimpers echoing in your tiny dorm room.
“So stupid… ” 
You barely hear him, too busy wondering why it had taken so long to feel his lips on your skin.
“The only person in the world that can see right through me, and you were stupid enough to believe what I said. ” He mumbles it into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and sighing when you moan against him.
“You’re so mean…” Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand drop to your leg, pulling the fabric of your dress up slightly. He grips at the back of your bare thigh, brushing against your panties and kneading into the plush skin just below your ass.
“What were you gonna do, Y/n, go home with Bokuto?” Tsukishima all but growls the question against your neck, dragging your thigh up and wrapping your leg around his hip. He feels your dress slide up, feels your warmth against his jeans. He’s desperate to get out of them.
“Y-You called me ugly-”
“I never said that.” Yes he had. He knows he had. He just hadn’t realized you would take it to heart. Now he hates himself for even saying it. For pretending you aren’t the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.
“Bo said I looked good… Figured I might as well go for someone who’s actually attracted to me…” You whimper when Tsukishima presses his erection against you, your thin panties useless against the rough fabric of his jeans.
“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you?”
You breathe out a laugh, clinging to his biceps as he sucks another bruise into your skin.
“How was I supposed to know, you dumbass? You only ever say mean things, and I thought I could get over you by-”
“By what?” He’s getting irritated again at the thought of what could have happened tonight if he hadn’t brought you home. If he’d left you alone, like his brain was telling him to. If he’d given you space and just texted you in the morning. 
“You thought you could just fuck some other guy and get over me?” He lifts his head, grinning cruelly when you look up at him, your lip trembling. “Because I didn’t call you pretty tonight? Because you were tired of me being mean all the time?”
You nod, a gasp leaving you when he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up so you’re eye-level, slamming you back against the closet door and pinning you there with his hips. Your dress is bunched up around your stomach now, leaving Tsukishima with a perfect view of the wet spot on your panties when he glances down. His grin widens, an evil glint shining behind his glasses.
“But it seems like you like it when I say mean things, Y/n.”
You whine in protest, growing louder when you feel him rut involuntarily against you at the sound.
“This is different, Tsukki-”
“Is it?” He’s distracted when he asks, too busy steadying you in his arms so he can lift you up and away from the closet. Making his way to your bed, he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress, smiling when you yelp. He removes his glasses and leaves them on your bedside table, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can drag you toward him.
You sit up, taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips urgently to his - even on his knees, he’s tall enough to be eye-level with you. You feel his fingers, long and calloused, drift up your thighs and hook into your panties while he nips almost affectionately at your bottom lip.
“Tsukki… ” You whisper against his mouth, but he’s quick to shake his head, mumbling back to you.
“Not that. ”
You’re a little surprised - you never really call him by his first name. He’d found it uncomfortable the one time you’d tried it as a joke. But if he’s asking, then-
“Kei .” His pulse quickens under your fingertips when you murmur against his lips, his kiss becoming more full, and you realize just how much he likes it.
You pull away and press kisses to his face, peppering them across his nose and cheeks. It’s a moment that’s far softer than either of you had had before, one that has Tsukishima’s heart beating a little too hard in his chest. 
God, he hates being in love.
He pulls away from you, planting one hand on your chest and shoving you away from him. You fall back onto your elbows with a noise of surprise, bouncing lightly on the mattress. Tsukishima only reaches for your panties again, tugging them down and smiling to himself when you lift your hips to help him. 
He throws them somewhere over his shoulder, refusing to break his attention. Planting his hands on each of your knees, he pries your knees open slowly, glancing up at your face for any signs of discomfort. When he finds none, his gaze flicks back down to what’s in front of him.
And then his breath is cutting short at the sight of you lying bare in front of him. You’re glistening, even in this dark room, and his cock is suddenly unbearably hard. 
He’d been thinking about this moment for far longer than he’d ever care to admit. 
“Well, isn’t this just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen?” 
You throw your head back at his words, moaning loudly. 
“Oh, shut up.” You know Tsukki’s slept with his fair share of girls since you’d started college - being a popular volleyball player has its benefits. You’d done the same, hoping to squash down that jealousy in your own, twisted way. To hear him praising you like this - like you’d always wanted - has you clenching and squirming from the desire coursing through your veins.
“First you get mad because I’m too mean, and now you’re mad because I’m being nice?” He tilts his head, his voice mocking. “You really need to make up your mind.” 
And then, before you can let out some kind of snarky quip, he’s dipping his head and dragging his tongue over your slit in one long stripe. 
You gasp loudly and moan out his name, falling back onto the mattress as your hands fly to his head. You bury your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip when he does it again, licking through your folds before latching onto your clit, pulling the nub gently into his mouth.
He moans loudly against you when you mewl and pull his hair. The vibration on your clit makes you squirm, and you’re involuntarily rutting your hips against his face. He only laughs against you, his breath tickling your skin, and wraps an arm over your hips to hold you steady on the bed.
He pulls his mouth off of you, and you lift your head to look at him in annoyance. He smirks, holding eye contact while he brings his other hand to your folds. When he runs his fingers through them, stopping briefly to circle your clit, you whimper. And when he drops his middle finger to your entrance, nudging gently at it in question, you bite your lip and nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you already-
“Oh my- Kei-” Your head falls back when he slides his finger in and drops his mouth to your clit to suck on it. He sets his pace with his finger, thrusting into you and curling gently up toward himself, repeating the process until he can tell by your squirming hips that you’re starting to feel something.
And then he’s pushing another finger past your entrance, his cock twitching when you moan at the stretch. He’s been painfully hard for a while now, and all he wants is to be inside you of already. He doesn’t realize you’re feeling just as impatient, only noticing when your hands drop to his shoulders, tugging on his shirt.
“Kei …” You pout down at him, your eyelids fluttering when he thrusts his fingers into you again. His fingertips are brushing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, his fingers much longer than yours. You think you might become addicted to his hands soon. But you only pull again on his shirt with a whine, hoping he’ll get the message. 
Luckily, he does, because he’s pulling away to rip his shirt impatiently off his back, wiping his mouth with it before throwing it to the floor. He unzips his jeans as he makes his way up to the bed, pausing to scoop you up into his arms and tossing you closer to your pillows so he can climb on top of you.
When he pushes his mouth to yours, you’re moaning. He tastes like you, something he’s apparently proud of, because he’s just smiling against you and shoving his tongue past your lips. He drops his mouth to your neck again as he fumbles with his jeans.
“You taste so good, you know that?” He latches onto your skin, sucking harshly. “So much better than I’d imagined.” He pushes his pants just past his thighs, growing impatient. You gasp quietly when his cock brushes against you, the sound changing to a moan when Tsukishima runs it through your folds, sliding against you.
He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours in a moment of astounding clarity given the insanity of this whole night.
“You sure?”
Your heart jumps when he asks. He’s got the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance, clearly holding himself back. But the way he’s looking at you makes you realize he wants this to be done right - after all, this had started with the two of you fighting. He doesn’t want you to regret this later and be even more upset with him.
He doesn’t want to lose you.
The idea that that’s what been hiding behind Tsukki’s eyes tonight - that vague panic that you couldn’t put your finger on - makes your heart sing and your stomach swoop with butterflies. You can only nod, cupping his face and bringing him down to your lips. His kiss is gentle and full of something that makes your nerves worse, something that makes you feel more than sure.
“I want this more than anything.”
Tsukishima’s heart skips, and he’s swearing softly against your lips. He hovers over you, keeping his mouth on yours as he presses his thumb against the head of his cock, guiding it past your entrance.
You gasp together as he pushes slowly into you, a moan pulled from your throat when he bottoms out and breathes out your name. The fog in your head - a mixture of alcohol, arousal, and nerves at the realization that you’re having sex with your best friend - worsens considerably when he drops his head to your neck, making an admission against your ear.
I’ve wanted this for so long …”
You whimper, curling your fingers into his hair and holding him close as he pulls out slowly just to slide into you again. You moan at the slow stretch, feeling his shaky breath against your ear.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Tsukishima doesn’t know why he’s choosing now to have this conversation, when you very well can just talk about it after. But there’s a strand of fear twisting around the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth is moving without his permission. He needs you to understand what this means to him.
“I didn’t know it would hurt you… I didn’t mean it…” His hips are still slow, moving languidly against yours. He’d expected this to be rough - sex is only ever rough for him - but he needs to concentrate on what he’s saying. And you feel so good like this, so warm and tight around him.
You’re having the same problem, your head completely empty as you feel him push into you inch by inch instead of all at once. You can barely hear him, your ears ringing and your skin overheating while you try to process that this is actually happening - that you finally have Tsukishima Kei the way that you’d always dreamed about.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Y/n.”
Your heart stutters when you realize what he’s been saying. Even with everything else going on right now - even as his hips are picking up the pace, even with his breath shuddering against your skin as he moans quietly in your ear - he’s distracted, trying to apologize. Trying to make things right between you.
“It’s okay…” You whisper forgiveness into his hair, but you feel him shake his head, his grip on your hips tightening.
“It’s not. I shouldn’t hurt you. Not you…” He gasps quietly into your neck, his hips stuttering momentarily before he returns to his previous speed. “S-Sorry… You feel really good… Trying to focus.”
You flush, clenching around him and pulling him closer when he groans. You think about what he’s saying. ‘ Not you ’?
You’re about to ask what he means, but he’s mumbling another admission against your skin, this one much more intense than the last.
“I love you, Y/n… So fucking in love, it hurts…”
You inhale sharply, your heart stopping in your chest. But then there’s a moan ripping from your throat, because he’s hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know existed, the tip of his cock bumping up against something that makes the coil in the pit of your stomach twist harshly.
“I- fuck - Tsukki, I love you, too…”
Tsukishima lifts his head then, staring down at you with surprise written all over his face. You can only breathe out a laugh, moaning quietly while you giggle.
“What, you’re shocked? I just told you I almost went home with Bokuto just so I could stop thinking about you.”
His eyes darken at your words, and his hips are snapping harshly against yours. You moan in surprise, feeling your stomach flip at the way he’s looking down at you. He seems to remember now just how this night could have gone.
He sits up, knocking your hands away when you reach out for him with a whine, and pulls out of you completely. Slipping off the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands around your thighs and tugs you toward him roughly. He only smiles mockingly down at you when you slide across the mattress with a quiet yelp, pulling your hips flush against his.
When he slips into you again, the soft, caring Tsukishima is gone, replaced with the Tsukki you’ve always known. The one who has no problem running his mouth just to get to you.
“That’s it then, huh? If I hadn’t dragged you home, you’d be wrapped around another man right now?” He slams into you, watching with delight as you cry out and arch your back. He keeps this pace, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he drives his cock into you.
“Tsukki-”
“What did I tell you? ” His tone cuts through you, yanking hard on that coil in your navel and setting off a fresh flurry of butterflies.
“I- Kei -”
“You think you can forget about me that easily? You think I would let you?” 
You’re writhing under him, hands gripping your sheets tight as you gasp with each hard thrust of his hips on yours. The sight makes Tsukishima’s hips stutter, and he feels his orgasm coming on. He drops his thumb to your clit to push you closer to the edge, throwing his head back with a moan when you clench around him.
“Kei, please- feels so goo- ah- ”
“S-Shit, Y/n, I’m not gonna last… Where should I-” Tsukishima almost loses it when you claw at his hands on your hips, latching onto his wrists as you moan.
“Insi-Inside… Inside, Kei, please…” You look up at him, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way his eyelids flutter when you clench around him. The way he bites down hard on his bottom lip and moans after a few seconds, breaking his hold on you so he can slam his hands down on the mattress on either side of you, his hair falling into his face as he pants down at you.
“Fuck -” He reaches down, brushing his thumb over your clit again. When you tighten around him this time, he’s letting out a choked gasp and your name, and you’re suddenly filled with warmth as his hips stutter, as he spills into you. He drops his head to your shoulder, his breath shaky as he thrusts into you, riding out his orgasm.
And when he’s done - when his cum is dripping out of you while you squirm, feeling full but unsatisfied - he sits up, pulling you against him again. He wraps his fingers around your wrists, smiling breathlessly when you cling to his forearms, and uses you as leverage when he draws his hips back and snaps them harshly into yours.
You cry out, feeling yourself throb the more he all but drags you down onto his cock and tries to draw your orgasm out of you. He releases your wrists, his thumb circling that little bundle of nerves while his other hand grips the back of your thigh, spreading your legs even further. 
When he changes the angle of his stroke, you’re gasping, unable to handle all of the sensations he’s causing in your body. There’s too much going on, too many feelings happening, each of which is bringing you closer to the edge. You slap your hands down over your face, trying both to muffle your moans and also hide your face, feeling embarrassed that your body is reacting so strongly to everything Tsukishima does.
He only coos down at you, his tone almost insulting.
“Oh, is my baby going to come?”
You whine loudly at his words, so rude but so endearing - your stomach swoops as the coil tightens, but you nod anyway. His low chuckle reaches your ears.
“Let me see you, then.” When you don’t respond, only moaning into your hands with each thrust, he clicks his teeth at you in annoyance. “Come on, Y/n. I wanna see how pretty my best friend looks when she comes on my cock.”
Tsukishima beams when that does it, your back arching as you cry out his name. You screw your eyes shut and fumble desperately for his hands. He slips his fingers through yours, holding tight when you come, your walls fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, inhaling sharply when you become impossibly tight, and then drops down over you when you're done, pressing his lips to yours.
You let out a sob against his mouth, your limbs heavy as you try to catch your breath. 
“Tsukki …” You wiggle uncomfortably, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him. He laughs against your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. And then he leans up again, pressing his lips to your tiredly.
“Let me get you cleaned up.” He snickers when you whine but joins in on your soft gasp when he slides out of you, both of you sensitive. Stripping you out of the dress that’s been bunched up on your stomach this whole time, he leaves you on the bed, kicking his jeans off as he makes his way into your connected bathroom. When he returns, it’s with a wet rag and a gentle hand on your thighs.
Tsukishima scoops you into his arms when he’s done, setting you carefully against the pillows and climbing into bed with you. Your head is still empty, and you reach your arms out uselessly for him, mumbling his name. He only smiles, pulling you against his chest and kissing the side of your head.
“You okay?” When you nod sleepily against his chest, he smiles, tugging you closer. “Not too mean?”
You giggle, planting a kiss on his neck.
“I like you a little mean.”
Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head.
“I know you do. But still…” He meets your eyes, suddenly shy, his cheeks flushing. “I’ll be better from now on. Less ‘ toxic boyfriend ’ and more ‘ insufferable but still cute ’.”
You beam at his words, your heart skipping.
“Boyfriend , huh?”
He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry - I forgot you and Bokuto were basically married.”
“Oh, right, I should probably tell him the wedding’s off-”
“You’re a dick.”
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eetherealgoddess · 1 year ago
Text
TR: ꨄYANDERE ONE NIGHT STAND HEADCANONSꨄ
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Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
Characters are 18+
❦Idc how bad you want it, do NOT wake up to these mfs❦
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Mikey: You didn’t expect to see a man lying next to you in your bed, let alone him being a friend of yours from childhood. You almost didn’t recognize him considering the black hair that’s falling down his back and shoulders. His body curved to the side as you stared in shock at the back of his head. You peeked over and almost cursed when you realized who he was.
You don’t remember the night before but picking the covers up and eyeing both of your naked bodies, you could only hope you had used protection. When you eased off of the bed, you snatched your clothes off the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed at the hoodie and sweats that indicate you hadn’t gone to a bar or club. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t figure out how running into each other would have resulted in the two of you in the same bed.
Once your clothes were on, you rushed to the door to avoid an awkward greeting. You wanted to see if your parents had made it home and noticed anything. Yes, you’re an adult but you still live under your parents roof and they never liked Mikey. They always thought of him as a bad influence which sucked for you because you actually had a little crush on him. They forbade him from the house and at some point made it a rule for you to not be friends anymore.
Having been young, you had to listen. They’re pretty strict so the tracking device prevented you from sneaking around. Honestly, you didn’t have many friendships because of your parents so you would only go to school, home, and occasionally the park. You only recently were allowed to have nights out as long as you paid attention in your college classes. You were scared that your parents would kick you out if they saw the display so you hurried out the door.
The putrid smell of the house slapped your face, a palm going over your nose as your eyes watered. You continue to walk through the hall to the living room, gasping when you see the corpses of your parents. You gagged up vomit, belching and coughing as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body trembles as you drop to your knees, eyeing their unrecognizable faces considering it looks as though their faces were beaten repeatedly, a large gash in the middle of their faces with blood puddling around them.
Having thrown on his black pants, he followed the wails that woke him up. His shoulder leaning against the wall and arms crossed over his bare chest, Mikey’s dark eyes gaze at you from the hall. He hadn’t meant for you to see such a gruesome scene. The pill he put in your drink two nights ago should’ve kept you asleep at least for a few days. He planned to take you home today considering he got carried away the nights before, libido high from the adrenaline rush he had from ridding both of you of the blockage that kept you two apart. He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you.
Jolting, you looked up at him from your kneeled position with wide eyes. He sets his hand on your head and crouches down.
“You’re gonna be good so I don’t have to knock you out, kay?” Hesitantly, you nod your head. He smiles softly before standing up and holding out a hand for you to take, helping you on your feet as you hold yourself up with shaky legs, gaze stuck on your deceased parents as you walk back to the bedroom.
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Kazutora: You pant heavily as moans echoed throughout the room, bucking your hips up as your ex boyfriend’s thrusts meet yours. Your fingers grip his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock aiming deeper inside of your walls as he grinds into you, hitting your g-spot with each rutt. He moans into your ear as he nibbles and sucks your earlobe, one of his hands placed on top of your head as his other hand grips the cushion of the bed.
“Kazu, I’m gonna cum!” You whimper out as you grind harder against him, the head of his cock pounding against the erogenous zone that causes your hands to turn into fists as you throw your head back. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches.
“Cum on this cock, baby.” His husky voice whispers against your ear as he continues the same pace, purposefully bringing you to an orgasm as you moan loudly, yelling a curse as you hold your hips in place. Suddenly, he pulls back and grabs a hold of your thighs, holding them up before thrusting at a faster pace, his hair draping over as he leans over, your hands gripping his shoulders once more as your mouth hangs open, feet next to your head.
The bed rocks as he roughly thrusts into you, cream oozing out of your pussy and dripping to your ass. You couldn’t help but release shaky moans as he used your pussy to bring himself to an orgasm. Your eyes widen as you watch his expression morph into the familiar look he makes when he’s about to cum.
“Pull out!” You yell as your eyebrows furrow from the overstimulation, hands moving to his chest.
“M’ gonna cum so fucking deep in this pussy.” He moans out, panting as his hips become sloppier, his fingers squeezing your thighs tightly. You yank his hair back in an attempt to pull him out of you only for him to moan out as he thrusts his hips harder, his eyes fluttering closed as his mouth hangs open.
He pressed his cock deep inside you as you felt his seed shoot inside. Both of you moan out as he slowly grinds his orgasm out, you pressing your hips against him as you cream out another orgasm. He lays on top of you as he pushes himself inside you more, holding himself in place to make sure all of his semen has nowhere to go but inside your hole.
“No, no, no! Kazutora, I told you to pull out!” You smack his sweaty back as he breathes deeply against your neck.
“It’s fine.” You both grunt as he pushes inside of you more, his arms hugging around your head.
“No it’s not! Now you have to get me a plan b!”
He sits up as he chuckles before pulling his hips back and shoving into you again before beginning a slow pace. You bite your lip to hold back from moaning.
“Uh, uh. You’re gonna keep it and we’re going to raise it together.” He grins as he holds your legs back up.
“Are you crazy? I have a fiancé now! I can’t get pregnant!” He pins your arms above your head after you try to push him off.
“That’s too bad.” He says before thrusting at a faster pace. He breeds you over and over again the rest of the night, your pussy full of nothing but his sperm.
The next day, you bought a plan b, walking to your car after you left the store. Before you could get in your seat, you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a chest with a knife against your throat.
“Take it and I will slice your neck and kill your fiance after sending everyone in your family the video I took of us last night. Do you understand?” He says softly against your ear. You nod frantically as he takes the bag out of your hand. He pecks your cheek before releasing you.
“Glad we got back together, Y/n. It’ll be good for the baby.”
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Ran: You wake up in a penthouse, the huge bedroom displaying a luxury you’ve never seen in person until last night. You were surprised that someone so loaded would go to a run down club such as the place you work at and choose you, a low class stripper, to spend the night with. You wouldn’t normally go home with anyone, but this man was charming and beautiful. You could tell he was expensive just by his demeanor and what he wore. You had no clue why he spotted you, gazing at you when he first walked in. When you made eye contact, you knew it would be a good night.
He made it worthwhile, treating you delicately, all the while pounding into you from behind as his nails left scratch marks all over you. Whispering soft words as he talked you through each orgasm while shoving his cock so hard that your skin smacked loudly against each other. His hold felt good against you, bodies molding together as you gripped the sheets of the bed, his sweat mixing with yours as he thrusts deeply inside of you.
“Work at my club.” He says while tracing your arm as you lie on his bare chest, the morning light seeping through the thin curtains as your legs are tangled together. You didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. Working at his club brought you more money, as well as high end living. You moved out of your grimy apartment to a luxury loft near his penthouse. One of his drivers would give you limitless rides to wherever you had ordered. You made connections and created a better life for yourself, with his help of course. You’re clearly the boss’s favorite, damn near living with him as he always brought you to his home at the end of a work night. Even on your off days you would end up at his place, waking up naked in his bed.
Whenever you had vip performances, there was a no touch policy for you specifically no matter the circumstances. As you rolled your hips against a stranger’s lap, he grabbed your ass and pulled you onto his covered bulge, bucking his hips against you. You yelp as you try to release yourself from the man’s grip, only for him to hold you down and groan. You curse at him before turning and back handing his face.
He shoves you to the ground, standing up from the seat as he hovers over you. He pulls his arm back, ready to land a punch to your cheek. A bang echoed through the room as blood splattered on your face and front body. The man’s headless body pauses before dropping limp on the ground, his jaw hanging as red covers him. You pant as your eyes stare wide at the corpse. Footsteps come towards you from behind as hands reach around your waist and pick you up from the floor.
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He says casually as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Let’s go home, yeah?” Still gazing at the body oozing blood, you nod your head with a trembling lip. He rubs your back as you both walk out. When you both lied in bed that night, you couldn’t get the man’s headless body out of your mind. Sure, he deserved something bad to happen to him, but the way Ran shot him so effortlessly was a little troubling for you. Regardless of the mixed feelings you held, you couldn’t help the side of you that was excited that a man like him protected you from danger.
“You no longer work at the club. You only work for me.” You were forced to move in with him for ‘your own safety,’ as well as giving all your personal details to him so he can take care of you completely. He paid for everything and even dressed you himself. He really molded you into his perfect doll. You couldn’t really get mad about the lack of freedom considering you had no more worries. In fact you were a little scared that he would give it all up once another stripper caught his eye.
“I could never replace my favorite doll.” With that sentence alone, your whole mindset changed. You realize that what you were receiving wasn’t real. Everything was to mold you into his little object. His toy. You don’t know why it hurt you as bad as it did, but you knew you had to leave.
The next day, you told him, “I think it’d be best if we stopped seeing each other. Our relationship is way past professional and I want my own life back.” He only stares at you as he sits on his office chair, stoic expression as his legs are crossed.
“You’re having a bad day. You should get some rest.” He states. Your eyebrows furrowed.
“No, I’m serious. This needs to end right now.” He stands up from his seat, walking towards you before gently grabbing your chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Are you sure?” He questions. You nod your head, ignoring his affection no matter how bad you wanted it. He releases you before walking back to his seat. He sits down and props his legs on the desk. You froze when you turned to walk away, a gun cocking behind you. You turn your gaze to him in shock and fear.
“Why do you look so scared, Y/n? You wanted this to end, right?” His expression shows a sly smile, elbow resting on the table as he lazily points the gun at you. Keeping his gaze fixed on yours, he leans over the desk, both elbows on the table, placing his feet on the ground.
“Or, were you mistaken?” You couldn’t move, your hairs standing up on your limbs as you breathed heavily. Your body is tense as you eye the barrel of the weapon.
“Were. You. Mistaken?” He reiterated, awaiting a response as his eyes narrowed.
“Y-yes, I made a mistake.” He nodded, “Mhm,” before setting his gun on the desk.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom for a nap.” He smiled as he waved you off.
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Rin: You hadn’t expected the drunken night to go as good as it did. Having been broken up with the day of, you decided to go out and find a random person to take home. Of course, this isn’t something you usually do, but you need something, or someone to distract you.
You had initially walked into the club with your friends by your side, but after a few shots the whole night became blurred, you all losing each other in the process.
The alcohol saved you from the thoughts that wanted to race your mind, instead you searched the crowd for someone who would be the perfect fit for tonight. Coming across a purple mullet, you knew exactly who you wanted. You downed another shot before reaching the upstairs dance floor.
You didn’t really care about anything but getting this stranger in your pants so when you reached him, you tapped his shoulder. You almost change your mind, anxiety forming when you see how attractive he is, though the alcohol in your system keeps you from folding to your insecurities.
“You wanna get out of here?” You question, swallowing your pride as his intimidating gaze locks you in a chokehold. You perk up at his smirk.
“Sure.”
Excitement causes you to grab his arm and pull him out of the club. He informs you of his driver and you allow him to take you to his place. When you both get there, you immediately pounce on him. Your lips drunkenly move against his as his arms wrap around your waist before pulling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. You make out as he carries you to the couch and sits with you on his lap.
After a couple hours or so, you both ended up in his bedroom, blankets all over the bed as you grind your hips on his face. His hands grip your thighs as you rest your arms on the head board, head back as you groan out. He smacks your ass as he laps up your juices, sucking your clit before flicking it with his tongue. Orgasm after orgasm, you both sloppily give yourselves to one another.
When you woke up the next day, your phone continuously buzzed as a call interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you grabbed the phone and eyed the screen. You sigh once you see your ex’s name. Answering the phone you picked yourself up and used one of the blankets on the floor as a cover up. You glanced at the sleeping purple haired man and walked into his bathroom, closing the door behind you.
The conversation went with your ex manipulating the situation and you falling for it once more, a never ending cycle that you knew could end if you stopped fooling yourself. Hanging up and opening the bathroom door, you weren’t expecting to see Rin sitting up on the bed, half-naked as his body faces you with his feet planted to the ground. You greet him as you put your clothes on.
“Leaving to go back to your toxic ex?” One of your eyebrows raised at him.
“That’s none of your business. Can I please get a ride to my apartment?” He nods as he watches you walk out.
A week has passed and you and your ex are once again back on bad terms. You were on your way to his place to pick your stuff up so it wouldn’t get mixed up with the other women’s items considering he allows them to stay over. When you opened the door, your eyebrows furrowed at the dark living room. He just texted you so you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be waiting in the living space like he always does.
You gasp when you reach his bedroom doorway, his corpse lying on the floor with blood oozing from a bullet hole in his head, lifeless eyes wide open. You look at the culprit who sits on the bed facing away from you.
“What the fuck?” You breathe out, uncomfortable and terrified from the display. You could recognize the mullet from anywhere. He stands up from the bed with the gun still in hand.
“Let’s go.” He says, expecting you to follow as he walks past you. Because of the gun in his hand, you really didn’t have a choice but to follow if you didn’t want to end up like your ex.
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Sanzu: You knew that even if you’re unhappy with your marriage, you probably shouldn’t have cheated. Honestly, it wasn’t anything planned but you really needed the drugs you had bought from the dealer you were recommended. Who knew that the one night stand would turn into an affair. Though there didn’t seem to be any emotional connection on your part nor did it seem like his, you couldn’t stop contacting him and yearning for the pink haired man in more ways than you should for a drug dealer.
You thought what you experienced was normal until you realized you might’ve caught feelings for your dealer. Unfortunately, when you confessed, you were answered with a blank expression as you both smoked weed in his car. You realized how stupid you were to have confessed to someone when you were married so you stopped buying from him. It wasn’t until he showed up at your house and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You continued to make out until you were on the sofa, riding his cock once more as you moaned out his name.
His hands gripping your hips as he thrusted into you from below. One of his hands moved behind your head and pulled you to his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your waist, aiming his cock deeper to keep hitting that spot that makes your thighs quake in his hold.
“Fuck.” He hissed as you rolled your hips harder, grunting as his grip tightened. “You sure you want this?”
“Uh huh.” You moan out as you nod, head falling back as the sound of your wet pussy squelches around his thick girth. When the sound of the front door clicks open, before you could turn your head around, Sanzu pulls his gun out from the pants that sat beside him and aims it for the intruder.
“No!” You gasp just as the shot rings out. A thud follows as you turn fully to eye your now dead husband.
“Oh my…!” Your head is forced to face Sanzu, the hand free of the gun holding the back of your head as the one holding the weapon wraps around your waist, his thrusts starting again as he purposefully aims deep into your pussy. You moan out as tears fall, the pleasure contrasting with the fear and guilt in your heart. He pulls your forehead against his as he continues to fuck into you.
“This is mine.” He aims the barrel of the gun on your pubis, finger against the trigger. You stare wide eyed into his crazed blue orbs. “Only mine, got it?” You nod as he removes the gun and replaces the arm back around your waist.
He continues until you both reach your orgasms, riding them out against each other as you lean your head on his shoulder, questioning everything that brought you to this point.
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creamecafe · 3 months ago
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Heyyy there I saw your post about allowing a request for various squid game characters. Can I request Hwang In-ho/front man?
Partner! Reader x Hwang In-ho/Front man
Like s/o doesn't know anything about the games and In-ho just have a whole nother identity just for her. She knows that In-ho goes on a business trip for 7 days and then comes back like nothing happens. And just before In-ho leaves for the "business trip" they have fluff moments and In-ho tries his best to keep her out of his other life
🫶🫶🫶
Secrets I have held in my heart
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Summary: What the requests says
Pairing: Hwang In-Ho x GN!Reader
Warnings: none just fluff and maybe feelings of guilt, bathing together but it's NOT smut
Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I also tried making my own dividers. It's not the best, but if I make one that's decent I'll post them for people to use
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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Hwang In-Ho was an interesting man. But he was yours. Your friends and family say they find him to be scary or something off about him. But you can't see him anything else than what he is, a caring husband who makes sure to provide well for you.
He tells you that his job is working at a sales company of always testing new products for people and surveying so you really thought nothing of it. Majority of the time he would go on business trips for at least a week. He never told you where he was going but you never wanted to bother him so much.
It was three days before he left and he always made sure to spend all his time with you. Taking you out to eat at your favorite place, watching your favorite movies, cooking and taking naps together.
Doing these things with you made him happy, but he also felt bad about lying about his work to you. He knew that your perspective and love would change because of that.
He didn't want to lose you because of that. But he also couldn't lose his job.
Today was the last day he would be spending time with you and he wants to make the most of it. You woke up with breakfast in bed. Your favorite.
"Don't worry about work sweetheart, I called in sick for you."
You smiled knowing you were really going to spend the day with him together
After you finish your breakfast, you two would take a warm bath together. Nothing sexual, just you two holding each other and making small talk.
Then it would be you guys just watching TV and cuddling with each other.
He really loves you so much. It was hard keeping his double life from you. But all that mattered was that you were safe and anything that you knew could put you in danger.
A few hours have passed and he ordered take out on your favorite restaurant. There it was again, just talking and him saying he's going to miss you
Before you knew it, it was time for you both to go to sleep. You were sad knowing that the next morning he would be gone.
Both of you guys were wrapped up in each other, cuddling and innocence of you two sleeping together meant so much to him.
The next morning came and he had to get ready to leave. You helped him prepare the stuff he needed, suits, snacks, and a goodbye kiss.
"Promise you'll text me everyday to at least make sure you're alight?"
"I promise my darling."
Both of you smiled at this and kissed each other as he was heading to his taxi. He looked back at you and waved to you.
You waved back and soon the car drove off.
When he was in the car, he pulled out his phone with a text message asking if he was on his way. He responded and then took something out of the pocket from his jacket. It was a picture of you. It would at least be a reminder of everything he's doing for you to have the best life possible even if you didn't know.
It would be a few hours before he had to put his love aside for you and keep focus on the bigger picture.
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myownwholewildworld · 3 months ago
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DARKEST DESIRES ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot
main masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: you promised Joel something he's been thirsting after for a while ― your ass. so you decide to make good on said promise. a/n: am i sick? probably. undoubtedly, really. this is a sequel to A Dark Summon, but it can totally be read independently. this was prompted by this kind ask (love you, nonnie). also, do you remember that post about frankie morales saying "big stretch"? WELL, YEAH (sorry, meant to tag it but i lost it!). anyways, please heed the warnings! comments and reblogs appreciated to keep the thots thotting <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. sexual roleplay (cnc). mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). sir/daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader (possibly some ddlg dynamics). slut shaming. unprotected piv. squirting. sleepy blowjob (consensual somno). breath play. sex toys (dildo, butt plug). mention of rimming. joel (the birthday boy) fucks your virginal ass, anal sex (faked painal). reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. dual pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~5.4k. divider by @\cafekitsune
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You were so nervous, your hands were shaking with excitement.
Living in Boston’s QZ was not easy, and trading was even worse. Because you were young―just turned nineteen a couple of months ago―dealers tried to take advantage of you, asking for more than they would to other people. But you were smart and the moment you learnt that dropping Joel’s name in conversation would actually give you a discount, you used that tactic frequently.
Most people in Boston were too preoccupied with life to be gossiping about the age difference between Joel and you, but there were some that would scan you from head to toe several times with disdain. Some with jealousy, others with horror.
“She’s too young, could be his daughter.”
“He’s too old, bet he can’t keep up with her.”
“She’s too young, it’s indecent.”
“He’s too old, I’m sure that little girl can’t satisfy him like I would.”
“She’s too young, no wonder why she’s always cheating on him.”
“He’s too old, I don’t know what he’s seen in her.”
You had heard it all. And you couldn’t care less. Joel, on the other hand, was a bit more sensitive when people criticized you ― like a guard dog protecting its prey. The relationship between the two of you was private, except for the times that you would hook up with a random guy in an alley with Joel attentively spying on you from the shadows.
He liked to watch, and you liked being watched. In your eyes, it was a match made in heaven. It never went further than a hand job, and you never let them touch your pussy ― Joel was extremely possessive of her. He enjoyed the look on their stupid faces whenever you pulled away, leaving them dumbfounded in the brink of an orgasm, and you would run to him, all giddy and ready to finish him off right there and then.
It was lewd, obscene, but you loved it. And so did he. Joel had shown you a whole new world when he took your virginity almost a year ago. Since then, you had been insatiable, too eager to be fucked stupid by your old man. Your daddy.
Every day you would sneak out and come over to his place to be pumped full of his cum, to have him drill you until you forgot your name and your legs wouldn’t keep you upright. And then you would go back home, spent yet satisfied, with your pussy full to the brim and your panties drenched with your mixed arousal.
Today though you were planning on spending the night here. It was Joel’s birthday and you had planned a special surprise for him. One that had cost you, but the price was definitely worth it.
You knew how avid Joel was about fucking your ass ― he almost reminded you daily. He had been preparing you for when the time came, some mild anal play to get you going. Last night, as Joel ate your asshole out, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t postpone it anymore and today would be the day. What better present for Joel than your virginal ass?
So here you were, all naked and squeaky clean for him. You had draped a red ribbon around your waist. A big, scarlet bow laid low on the small of your back, making it obvious what his gift was. You also had a smaller parcel, all wrapped up with some old newspapers.
The moment you heard the front door creak, your heart jolted with anticipation and your stomach flipped. Turning around to face away from him, you dropped to your knees and leaned forward until your forehead rested on the floor and your knees touched your chest ― your ass on full display for him.
“Kiddo?” he called.
Joel’s brows furrowed deeper when he didn’t hear a reply. He knew you were here, your recognisable scent betraying your presence. Confused, he walked the small hallway and entered the living room.
His eyes immediately fell to where you were positioned, and a rush of hot blood coursed through his veins like liquid fire, all the way down to his groin. You had knelt and bent over, your perky ass up in the air for him to admire. A red bow topped your ass cheeks, the meaning of all this becoming instantly clear.
With a sly grin, Joel rubbed his palms together, taking a step forward.
“You’ve not forgotten about my birthday, have you, sugar?” he croaked, raspy and hoarse.
“No, sir, I haven’t,” you murmured, wiggling your ass a bit for him.
Joel groaned, the tension in his pants growing tighter, while he knelt behind you. The offer was irresistible, the way your flesh jiggled commended him to smack both of your buttocks. You whimpered, your back arching some more and your crack pulling further apart.
His fingers twitched with need, grabbing a handful of your meat. Joel was mesmerised by the view ― your puckered entrance so very inviting, and your beautiful seam glistening with slick right below.
Unable to refrain himself, his index dipped in the warmth of your damp pussy, tracing it entirely until the pad caught on your beating clit. You sighed heavily, melting under his digit.
“Why are you all wet already? Have you been playing with yourself?” he questioned, voice laced with lustful anger.
“Yes, sorry, sir. I was thinking about you, about what is gonna happen tonight, and… mhmm…” you hiccupped when he flicked your clit, “I did finger myself, but I didn’t come, I promise.”
Joel’s chest rumbled, frustrated. His orders were clear ― no touching yourself, nothing at all, even if you were horny. He wanted you needy and ready to take his cock when he came home from a rough day of patrol.
“How many fingers?” he barked, pinching your hooded clit between his index and middle fingers. You wailed in mild pain, your hips bucking up and away from his touch, but Joel didn’t release your thudding button.
“Just the one. Just the pinky, I swear. I know you like my pussy tight and unstretched, sir,” your sob transformed into a moan when his thumb found your trapped clit.
“Attagirl,” Joel rasped. “I don’t want your cunt all used and loose, you’re too young to feel like an old hag around my cock.” His thumb pressed tight circles on your pebbled nub before he removed his hand from your pussy. “I will let it slide. This one time.”
The warning in his tone made you nod vehemently, as you looked over your shoulder to him. Your bottom lip was trembling, your doe eyes pleading.
“Do you forgive me, sir?”
Joel gave you a stern look before he slapped your ass cheek, and you winced in response.
“I’ll think about it, kiddo,” he already had, but wouldn’t tell you yet.
“What can I do to help you make up your mind, sir?” a single tear skidded through your cheek, bottom lip still quivering.
Joel loved how easy you would tear up, you were a natural when it came to acting.
“There’s this one thing I have in mind,” Joel muttered, his thumb ghosting your butthole. “So clean, sugar. Can’t fucking wait to dive in.”
“I washed myself really well for you, sir. I used an enema too,” you whispered, averting your eyes shyly.
“So no messy sex?” Joel almost sounded disappointed, but he was just toying with you.
“No, I couldn’t, sir,” you bit down your bottom lip, eyes shut and the apples of your face burning with shame, when the pad of his thumb gently pressed the tight ring in your crack. “Oh…”
“You like that, don’t you? All this time denying me my right to fuck your ass, and now look at ya, begging to have your butthole impaled. Did rimming your tight ass yesterday change your mind?”
You shook your head yes eagerly and pushed your hips backwards until your ass was resting on his lap, thumb still stroking you right where you needed. You rubbed your buttocks against his jeans, your weeping seam sliding on his zipper.
“I-I loved it. I’m s-so ready now, sir,” you stuttered, pouting when he stood up.
“You poor little thing. Let’s break this seal then, shall we? But I need you to work me hard first.”
Joel moved towards the couch, and you followed him, walking on all fours behind him as if you were his little doggy. Next time, he would get you a collar and a leash, he thought as he sat down, and the old cushion gave way under him.
He coaxed his legs apart to make room for you between his thighs. You didn’t need any further instructions: you were already unbuckling his belt, your tiny hand dipping in his underwear to release his flaccid cock. His dick was still soft, just started to harden a few minutes ago.
Leaning forward, you pulled back the skin on his shaft and kissed the reddened tip. Then your tongue twirled around his cockhead, slurping sloppily as you bobbed your head down his length. Joel felt his dick growing harder, bigger in your warm mouth, and he groaned with satisfaction.
You loved how Joel’s soft cock would slowly stiffen between your lips, how his weight would grow heavier on your tongue as you sucked him off. Although you played to be submissive to him, this was a reminder of the actual power you held over him. Not only a reminder to yourself, but also to him. Despite being fifty-six, you were able to work Joel hard in a couple of minutes with the brush of your tongue and the seal of your plump lips. You were proud of it.
“What’s all this?” Joel asked as he leaned over, his chest pushing your throat further down on his now throbbing cock.
Your partner grabbed the box you had wrapped from the coffee table, along with the ashtray and a cigar you almost had to sell your soul for.
“Your other present, sir,” you managed to mumble, mouth full of his hard erection.
Your saliva skidded down his veiny shaft, pooling on the thick, dark curls at the base of his cock.
“I didn’t say stop. Keep sucking, kiddo,” his reproach scolded you, and quickly resumed your job.
You heard him lighting the cigar and then tearing the newspaper apart, while you took in as many inches as you could. Now that you had felt a few cocks on the palm of your hand, Joel’s had no rival. He was so gifted, and you felt lucky you were the one getting it all for yourself.
He’d been training you to swallow him whole, and practice made perfect. So after a couple more dives, your lips reached the base as the underside of his cock dragged easily along your tongue.
Your eyes welled up due to the strain and you suppressed the gag reflex, the fluttering of your throat around his girth making Joel moan. His left hand landed on the back of your head, pushing you down.
“Your mouth was made for me, sugar,” he praised you and you revelled in his compliment, swaying your hips sideways.
He placed the box on your back and opened it. You couldn’t see him but knew his face expression would light up with a sinful smirk.
Joel cackled and smacked one of your round globes, careful of not messing up the cute bow.
“Oh, you dirty slut.”
Joel pulled you off his erection by tugging at your hair. By the way his brown eyes took you in, you had to be a pretty picture ― messy hair and makeup, swollen lips, your skin glistening from your nose down to your chin with his precum and your spit.
One of his hands was holding a small butt plug. It was made of black silicone, pointier and ridged. It had four inches of insertable length, and the diameter was one inch thick.
Joel let out a whistle.
“You traded for this?” you nodded, batting your eyelashes at him. “Good fucking girl.”
He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips demanding and fierce. Your tangled tongues fought with each other, but Joel always won, subduing you quickly.
Both his hands roamed your bare body, rough calloused palms caressing your cold skin, which bristled under his touch. Joel traced your underboob, then suddenly pinched both of your taut nipples and pulled.
You flinched, a thunder of pain radiating from your tits all the way down to your pussy. Wet, sticky heat pooled between your thighs, clit pulsing and hole clenching around nothing. How could pain turn you on so fucking much?
“Move your pretty ass to the bedroom, kiddo,” Joel commanded.
Springing to your feet, you obeyed, leading the way to his bed. The room was dark and bare, with no personal items anywhere to be seen. Joel kept to himself, sharing little snippets of his life when he felt like it. You never pushed for information, knowing that he would open up at his own pace.
Putting on your best innocent gaze, you turned around to face him once you were at the foot of the bed.
“Can we play rough… daddy, please?” the term slipped from your tongue accidentally.
You covered your mouth at the realisation ― you’d never called him daddy, not out loud. In your mind you had done so several times, but you were not able to gauge how Joel would react if you did.
You were about to find out.
Joel growled at you, one broad hand wrapping around your throat ― his fingers dug on the sides of your neck. Tilting your chin up, you gasped, your hips lurching forward until they pressed against his erect dick.
“Who’s your daddy, kiddo?” Joel groaned, grazing your chin with his teeth.
“Y-you, daddy,” you replied, slowly understanding that despite his aggressive reaction, he actually liked it. “Joel Miller is my daddy.”
“Damn right I am,” he snarled like an animal. He hovered the anal plug over your mouth, “Open.” Joel slotted it between your lips. “Suck on it, daddy’s girl needs her pacifier for what’s to come. Don’t want the neighbours coming over to check if I’ve killed someone.”
When he turned you around and pushed you towards the bed, you knew the game was on. Your shins hit the metal bedframe; with another push from Joel on your shoulders, you fell face first on the unkempt bed.
“No, daddy, please, no,” you began whimpering around the plug, squirming as he sank a knee into the mattress.
Joel grabbed both of your wrists with the span of one broad hand and pressed them onto the small of your back. He tilted forward, his weeping glans gliding on your sticky slit a few times. He tapped your clit four times with his cockhead, the last tap harsher than the others, and then he stabbed your clenching hole.
You writhed under him, audibly crying now, when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. You forced tears to fall down your cheeks and mouthed a scream around the butt plug in your mouth.
“It hurts!” you feigned a painful wail, when in reality your pussy was fluttering around his gifted circumference with delight.
Joel groaned above you, buried down to the hilt, and placed his free hand on the back of your head. Then he pushed your skull down into the mattress, almost smothering you as you tried to gasp for air.
“Shut up, you bitch. Take it,” his hips snapped back, cock almost sliding out of your cunt, and then forced his way into your pussy again.
Your old man picked up a relentless pace, the nasty, sucking sound of your wetness reverberating in the room as Joel fucked you stupid, drilling you into the bed like a man possessed.
Joel freed your wrists for his left thumb to find your empty rimmed hole. He started stroking it slowly again, and you squeezed your sphincter at the touch. Unhurriedly, he worked your butthole until your muscles relaxed, then took the opportunity to ploddingly insert the first phalange in your ass.
Seeing stars behind your eyes, your hips involuntarily jerked up, swallowing the second phalange of his thumb. When Joel began pumping your tight ass with his digit, your pussy palpitated around his cock.
“You like that, don’tcha? Nasty, stupid little girl,” Joel groaned, his thrusts unforgiving whilst his thick finger twirled inside you.
You hummed loudly around the butt plug, feeling lightheaded and dizzy due to the lack of oxygen, but also to the intense pleasure, one you had not felt before.
“Mhm-mm-mhmmm-mhmmmmm,” the crescendo in your mumbling plea peaked, your lungs now burning.
Then Joel released his purchase on your hair, and your neck snapped back as you mouthed for air. Your heartrate spiked, even feeling it in your gums. Joel’s unabating shoves along with his devilish thumb finally sent you over the edge and you jumped off the cliff of your pleasure blindly. Your throbbing pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, the wave of your climax drowning you as Joel fucked you through it.
With toes curling, eyes glassy and drool falling off the corners of your busy mouth, all your muscles went suddenly limp. Your spent cunt still quivered around Joel’s dick, who hadn’t stopped jackhammering into you with renewed vigour.
Hastily, Joel pulled back and out of the heat of your tight pussy, digging up his thumb in the process too. One more second and he would have spilt inside. While he was sure he could have another erection, even at fifty-six, he rather not risk it.
His rough hand wrapped around his cockhead, reining in the need to come.
“Fuck, you almost got me there, sugar,” he cackled, running his hand down his face.
You didn’t reply. You were sprawled across his bedsheets like a fuck toy, your thighs still trembling with the aftershock of your orgasm. Joel was sure that even without the butt plug in your mouth, you would not have been able to string two coherent words together.
His lustful eyes lingered on the red bow crowning the swell of your buttocks. He was dying to untie it, to unwrap his most precious present and make good use of it. But first he needed you ready.
“Gimme that,” he uncurled his hand in front of your mouth, and you spat out the butt plug.
Standing firm behind you, he teased your pursed hole with the silicone tip. You stirred at the touch but were so out of tune with your own body, you didn’t fight him. He twisted the plug around, circling in your orifice. Slowly it went in, and when it bottomed out, your eyes snapped open, and you grizzled.
“Stay put,” he ordered you, stepping back.
Joel admired how the handle stuck out, peeking between your round globes. With a huff, he stroked his length as he walked towards the nightstand. Opened the drawer and pulled out your favourite pink dildo. It was slim and slightly curved ― you loved how the tip always hit the right spot inside your pussy.
He retraced his steps back to the foot of the bed and slid the toy between your clammy flaps, wetting it with your juices. You squirmed at the cold touch but relaxed when you realised what it was.
“Gonna have both holes full to the fucking brim, babydoll,” he mocked you sneeringly, wedging the dildo in your crying pussy until it snugly sat inside. “She’s so greedy.”
“Daddy, please, I can’t. I’m hurting,” you pleaded, sobbed even.
“I don’t fucking care. I’ll fuck your ass through the pain. A gift is a gift, kiddo,” he mumbled darkly.
Joel followed along and would not stop unless you said, “you piece of shit.” That was the agreement, the safe words you would use if you really started feeling insufferable pain. So far, you hadn’t spoken the words, giving him free rein to do with you as he pleased.
Looking at you with your perky ass up with the satin bow on top, a dildo in your weeping cunt and the butt plug poking out of your asshole, he knew himself a lucky bastard. How you fully trusted him, giving in to his darkest desires and coming up with your own. The last year had been a revelation for both of you ― you matched his freak so well.
To hell with what people thought, you were everything he had been looking for.
Fisting the base of his thudding cock, he slowly removed the anal plug, the pop sound enticing. Joel watched your open hole squeezing again until it puckered in your fold. He was mesmerised imagining how your walls would feel around him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, biting down his bottom lip.
Hypnotised, Joel pushed the plug back in your butt, slowly and steadily, watching eagerly how your rimmed entrance swallowed the beads.
“No, daddy, it hurts. Please, take it out,” you begged him with a small, breathless voice.
“Shut the fuck up,” he warned you.
With one hand he pumped the dildo, dragging the pointy tip along your anterior wall to hit the spongy spot of your pleasure, and the other performed similar motions with the butt plug.
You mewled like a kitten, your passion ringing in his ears like he was high on drugs. Seeing you like this, all pliable and surrendered, had him on the brink of coming ― teetering on the edge, precum sliding down his shaft.
When you started humping the bedsheets, causing friction in your unattended clit, Joel knew you were close to another climax. Feeling considerate, he let you chase your own high, both of his hands working the sex toys in your holes.
“I― Good fucking lord, I’m… com… I’m coming, daddy. C-can I…?” you asked for his permission, his chest swelling at your request.
“Yeah, kiddo. Come for daddy,” he rasped, feeling drunk on your ecstasy.
You finally let go again, your whole body quivering like a leaf falling off a tree. He saw your inner labia squeezing the dildo and for a second Joel regretted it wasn’t his cock ― how good it would feel to have your fluttering pussy hug him tight.
But he had to persevere. The gift was worth it.
As your body still adjusted to the aftermath, Joel pulled out the butt plug carefully. The toy slid out easily, and he watched again how your hole stretched back to its normal size.
Throwing the plug to one side on the bed, Joel untied the red, satin bow on your lower back with steady fingers, taking in the moment. He felt like a mayor inaugurating a new building, presenting it to the press. This building was only his to dilapidate. The ribbon fell through his fingers.
Joel slipped one hand between your thighs, caressing around the dildo to gather some of your slick and gently buttering it into your rimmed opening. You said nothing ― eyes shut and mouth agape, it was almost as if you were peacefully sleeping.
He repeated the process a few times, but felt it wasn’t enough. Bending down, he spat in your ass until his mouth was dry. Then positioned his weeping cock right in the fold of your ass and pressed your buttocks together to hump your butt crack. Again, you didn’t react, your drool pooling on the bedsheets.
“What a fucking sight,” he said under his breath, the tip of his girthy dick finally hitching in your asshole.
Slowly he pushed the glans in, then back out, then back in, testing the waters. You squirmed a little, your brows furrowing innocently and your nose scrunching.
“Biiiiig stretch, kiddo,” he managed to groan between gritted teeth, jaw painfully clenched as his cock finally burrowed in your puckered entrance.
That was when your glassy eyes snapped open, and both your hands fisted the bedsheets.
“DADDY!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.
It was hot and tight inside, very soft too, sweat gathering on his brow in concentration. Your sphincter crushed his hard cock and Joel felt like losing control over his own actions.
Another piercing shriek from you brought him back, his hips slowly working your hole with his length. He was only halfway in, you still had a few inches to take.
“You pie― Ohhhh, ah, mhmm…” his hand was quick to find the pebbled nub in your slit, petting it gently, pressing tight circles.
The distraction worked, because soon enough his dick was fully sitting in your ass. Joel pulled back, then back in, guiding your movements by pressing his free hand on your belly, holding your waist up and moving you with him. His right ring and middle fingers stroked your pearly clit relentlessly ― you were melting again.
This was heaven. Fucking heaven, he thought. How the muscles in your ass contracted around him, making him feel woozy. How you keened. How he just knew your pussy was fluttering around your pink dildo. How your clit was extremely wet, his fingers almost slipping on your velvety skin, almost unable to catch on your button.
It wasn’t painful, it was extremely overwhelming. Your mind felt like a spongy cloud, completely blissed out. Your soul had literally left your body, that was how empty your brain was. You were so full ― the dildo cozily inside you, Joel’s girthy cock blasting your entrails without a pause. Having him fully seated in your asshole was the most euphoric experience you had ever lived ― your pulse adjusted to his, two hearts beating as one.
It was too much, but it could be even more. Slithering one hand between your body and the bed, you found the dildo. Slowly you rocked it in and out of your damp pussy ― when Joel pulled out, you pushed in.
Elated, little, pathetic sobs escaped your mouth ― real, blissful tears wetting your cheeks, whimpering as your puffy lips wolfed down the pink toy. Your clit felt on fucking fire, Joel’s fingers fondling it to a point where you thought you might actually die.
You were coming again ― Joel could fucking feel it in his bones. Only this time, you squirted all over him, the warm liquid running down his thighs like a cascade whilst your whole body quaked uncontrollably.
“Oh my! Daddy! DADDY!” you wailed as he fucked you through it, hips almost stuttering now. “I can feel you in my guts! OH, FUCKING HELL!”
That was fucking it. With a guttural groan, Joel finally came, thick, sticky ropes spilling in your ass, painting your walls white. For a minute, he kept on filling you with his cum, cock maddingly twitching inside you. He closed his eyes and heavily sighed, as if the biggest weight had been taken off his shoulders.
By the time he was done, Joel was heaving, his chest rising in quick succession. That had been the best sex he’d ever had, and he was no novice like you. God, even his legs were trembling with effort.
Joel smacked both your ass cheeks as you plummeted onto the bed, a stupid grin curling the corners of your sinful mouth. You rolled to your side to look at him ― a fucked-out expression, your eyes hazy, sweaty hair sticking to your face.
The way you lazily smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.
“That was… something else,” you whispered, half asleep, totally spent.
Joel couldn’t help but chortle.
“I told you, kiddo,” he said, manoeuvring you back onto your belly so he could watch his semen gushing out your ass. “Squeeze your butthole for me, babydoll. Get it all out.”
You obeyed, all his cum slowly trickling out until your ass was empty.
“Good girl,” he praised you.
He admired the view for a hot minute ― you were a dewy mess, tangled in his bedsheets, with the pink dildo still poking out your sweet pussy. So tight, he thought, your slick cunt wouldn’t release it even when he gently tugged at it. Joel didn’t have the heart to take such comfort away from you yet, so he left the dildo in.
Joel disappeared into the bathroom after that to shower quickly. Then grabbed some wet towels and went back to the bedroom, naked as you were, to find you soundly asleep in an odd position.
He cleaned you up ― first your sweaty face, then your upper body. Joel coaxed your legs apart and couldn’t resist the urge to bow down and press a sweet kiss to your clit, slowly extracting the dildo from your pussy.
You hummed in your sleep, jaw slack and snoring lightly.
“The best daddy’s girl one could ask for,” he purred before resuming the task of rubbing your cunt and your ass clean. Joel was extremely diligent with your hygiene and care.
There was a big puddle on his bedsheets, right where your pussy had been leaking all along. He’d deal with that in the morning, didn’t want to wake you up now ― you needed the rest.
Joel sauntered towards the living room, seizing the forgotten cigar and the ashtray. Then returned to bed, and dragged your body up the bed until your head was resting on his lap. You unconsciously nuzzled his soft dick, your hot breath fanning the thick curls at the base.
Joel raked his fingers through your hair as he took a puff, the cigar crackling.
“You’re gonna be the end of me, kiddo.”
In your sleep, you stirred ― your plump, cherry lips caressing his base. Joel’s head slacked back against the headboard as he smoked.
“Fuck,” he cursed himself, feeling his dick harden again.
You were giving him no option ― there was nothing worse than going to bed with a hard-on. Joel knew you wouldn’t want that for him.
His fingers left your scalp, took one more puff and placed the cigar down on the ashtray. Joel cupped your chin, tilting your head up and back, while his other hand guided the slick tip of his cock to your lips. The moment your mouth was in contact with his dick, instinctually you suckled on his pearly glans.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted, voice gravelly. “That’s it, be a good little girl for daddy.”
Joel gently rocked his hips under you, only the tip disappearing between your sinful lips ― he didn’t want to wake you, not when you looked like an angel right now.
This was a recurrent dream of yours. Most nights, you found yourself drifting away and thinking about your old man’s beautiful dick. It was soothing when you latched onto his glans, just like you were doing right now ― unbeknownst to you.
In your dream, your tongue pressed against the slit on his throbbing cockhead while your lips would seal around it to suck on it. Then his underside would slide along your tongue, kissing your palate gently. Sometimes you would stop, glans sitting warmly in your mouth, and the hand resting on his thigh would find the soft balls underneath to massage them delicately. Then your tongue would resume its petting.
Heat peaked inside your mouth, and that made you scowled slightly. Smacking your lips together, sleepily, you realised that there was something warm and sticky pooling in your mouth.
Your eyes fluttered open, still drowsy, and found Joel’s darkened ones. Your head was resting on his lap, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb stroked your chin. Sluggishly, you smiled at him, rubbing one eye with the back of your hand.
“Sorry to wake you,” he apologised before he took a drag of the cigar. “Swallow daddy’s gift, sugar.”
His words made you realise that what you had in your mouth was his cum. Your grin grew wider as the tasty seed of Joel slid down your throat. You liked it when he took what was his without asking.
“Attagirl. Now back to sleep, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime,” he commended you, and you nodded absentmindedly.
Nudging his dick and tucking your hands under his thigh, you pressed a soft kiss on his cockhead, then closed your eyes.
“Thank you,” you sighed contently, to both Joel and his dick.
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byexbyez · 6 months ago
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love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader
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pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader
summary:
“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”
You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.
word count: 19k
warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n
notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!
➵ read on ao3.
PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)
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And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved
Me and my husband We're doing better
—Me and My Husband, Mitski
It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.
No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.
It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.
You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.
He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.
“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”
You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”
“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.
The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.
He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”
You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.  
“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.
“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”
That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.
“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.
“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”
“Only one?” you chuckle.
“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.
Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.
“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.
“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.
It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.
You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.
It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?
We met at work, you replied shortly.
I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.
We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.
Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???
You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.
I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.
So you both can ask him what he sees in me?
Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.
I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.
Sooo what does he do?
Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.
So you can’t tell me?
I really can’t.
You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.
That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.
He did say he was an orphan, that one time.
It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.
All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.
He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.
“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.
“No.”
“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.
He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.
Happy Birthday, from Leon.
“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”
But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”
He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.
Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.
He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?
Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.
“Why didn’t you eat?”
“I ate cereal,” you answer him.
“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.
“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”
“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”
You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.
“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.
He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”
You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.
You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.  
He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”
“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”
He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.
“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.
He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”
“Yes, mister.”
“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.
“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”
“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.
You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”
He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”
“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.
There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.
He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.
“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.
You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.
“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.
“I’m not that drunk!”
The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.
“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.
You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”
“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.
“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”
“Wouldn’t that be…”
“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”
“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.
He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”
So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.
“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”
You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.
It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.
As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.
You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.
He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”
He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.
“Okay.”
“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”   
People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.
“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”
“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”
He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”
“When do you want to get them?”
That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.
First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?
Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.
Eloped? To whom?
He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.
He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?
Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.
That wasn’t long ago!
I know, right?
You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.
However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.
People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?
Yes, but not really.
The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.
“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.
You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.
“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.
Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.
“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”
“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”
Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.
Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”
Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.
Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.
“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.
His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”
He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.
“Congratulations, for the mission.”
“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”
You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”
“We actually met before. At the funeral.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”  
“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”
“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”
“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference��”
“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”
“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”
Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”
He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”
“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”
“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”
“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”
“From the Disney movie?”
You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”
He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.
As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.
At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.
“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”
“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”
Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.
His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.
You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.
“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”
“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.
“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”
“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”
“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”
“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.
You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”
“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”
God, why did he have to be so annoying?
The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.  
“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.
“What can I get you, miss?”
Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.
“Eyedrops, please.”
“Miss, are you alright?”
To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.
“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”
“Can I get you anything for that?”
“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”
Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.
Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.
Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”
“What?”
“For your allergy?”
“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”
It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.
“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”
“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”
“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”
“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”
“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”
His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”
How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.
You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.
“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”
Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.
“It?”
“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”
“Will you be okay driving?”
“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”
“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.
“Thank you. See you around?”
“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”
“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”
“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”
“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”
“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”
“Very smooth, Leon.”
He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.
“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”
He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.
I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do
—Like Real People Do, Hozier
The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.
“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.
“I think I can make it.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”
It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.
“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”
“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”
You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”
“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.
“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”
“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”
“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.
“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”
“Can I have it?”
“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”
“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”
Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.
It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.
You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”
She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.
She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.
“You printed it?”
“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.
“You just met Leon today.”
“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”
You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.
Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”
You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?
“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”
“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”
“How did mom know?”
Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”
There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.
Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.
“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.
“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?
You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.
“How’s your leg?” you ask him.
“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”
“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.
“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.
You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”
“I can—”
“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”  
“Would you actually be upset if I—”
“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.
“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”
“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.  
“I do.”
“So, any propositions?”
“Huh?”
“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.
“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.
“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”
“I’d rather not know that!”
“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”
He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.
“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”
Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.  
“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”
She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.
You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.
Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.
“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.
“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.
He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.
“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”
He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.
He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.
This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.
He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”
His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.
Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.
His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.
A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”
A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”
It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.
There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein
—No Plan, Hozier
The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.
He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.
“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.
He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.
As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”
“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”
“How have you been?”
You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”
“Depends on how you define well.”
“You’re still in one piece.”
“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.
Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.
“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”
“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”
“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”
“Oh, they’re talking about me?”
“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”
“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.
“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”
“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”
“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”
“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”
“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.
“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”
“That would be great,” he sighed.
You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”
“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”
Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”
“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.
Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.
“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”
To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”
“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.
Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.
“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.
“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.
“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.  
He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“For you it would?” you inquired.
“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”
“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”
“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.
“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.
“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.
Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”
His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”
It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.
“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”
Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.
Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”  
He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”
He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.
“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.
“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.
“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”
“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”
“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.
“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.
“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”
“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”
“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.
He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.
The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.
Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.
He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.
He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.
Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.
Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.
It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.
But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.
He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?
Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.
Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.
A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.
He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.
“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.
“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.
“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”
Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”
“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.
“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.
“You said a lot of things.”
“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”
“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”
“I didn’t mean to scold you.”
He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”
“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.
“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”
“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.
“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”
“What do you want to hear?”
His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”
“What?”
“Would you marry me? If I asked?”
“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?” 
“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”
Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”
“Who said anything about spite?”
“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”
“I am not.”
“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”
“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”  
You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”
“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”
“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”
He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”
You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”
“Not a friend either.”
Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”
He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”
You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.
“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”
“What?”
“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”
“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”
“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”
You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”
“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.
You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.
Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?
Hi. Yes I remember.
Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?
There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.
I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.
You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.
Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.
I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.
The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.
“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”
“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”
Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.
Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch
—Love Me More, Mitski
It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.
It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.
He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.
It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.
The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.
He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”
“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.
“I forgot.”
Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”
“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”
It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.
“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”
He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”
You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.
“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”
“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.
He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.
“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.
“Yeah, did you clean my room?”
“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”
He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.
“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”
You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.
You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.
However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.
You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.
The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”
You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.
“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.
You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.
“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”
You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”
You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.
“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”
You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.
“Did you have them wrap it up?”
“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”
“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.
His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.
“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”
His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.
He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.
“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.
“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.
You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.
It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.
It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.
You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.
Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.
Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.
“Stop confusing me, Leon.”
“What do you mean?”
“What am I to you exactly?”
“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.
“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”
“We never guaranteed that it would.”
“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”
His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”
“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”
His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”
Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”
“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”
You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.
“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.
“What would she have said?”
“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”
“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”
You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”
“I didn’t know you two were that close.”
“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”
“To become an agent?”
“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”
“What were you studying before?”
“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”
He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”
You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”
He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”
“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”
“Your mom sounds like a great person.”
“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”
“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.
“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”
“Why?”
“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”
“I think I would, too, in that situation.”
“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”
“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.
“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.
“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”
“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”
“How did you know it was going bad?”
“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”
“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”
“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”
“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”
“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”
“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”
“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”
Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.
“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”
Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”
“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”
“Nope.”
From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”
“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”
You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”
“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.
“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”
“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”
“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.
Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.
“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”
Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”
You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”
“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”
“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.
His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”
Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”
“Thank you, that means so much.”
“You didn’t even know her.”
“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”
A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”
A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”
“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”
“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”
“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”
“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.
“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”
Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”
Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”
Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”
“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”
“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”
His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.
Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.
“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”
His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”
You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”
“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”
“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.
“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”
Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”
“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”
His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”
Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”
“No, actually, I found him myself.”
“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”
You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.
“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”
“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”
“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.
Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.
“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”
“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”
There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”
“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.
After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.
“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.
“I haven’t read it.”
 “If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”
“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”
“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”
“Now that’s vile.”
Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight
Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am
—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski
“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”
You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.
There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.
Someone he loves.
“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.
“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”  
“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”
“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”
Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.
You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”
You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”
“There is someone, right? You love them.”
His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.
“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”
“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”
“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”
You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”
He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”
“This is me letting you go.”
“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”
“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”
His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.
“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”
I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.
“Kiss me.”
“That I can do, honey.”
You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.
A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.
“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”
You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.
“Leon—”
He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.
You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.
“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.
He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”
You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.
Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”
He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.
He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.
“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”
“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.
A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.
Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.
You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”
He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.
His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.
“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.
“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”
You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.
“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”
“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.
“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.
Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.
Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.
Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.
Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.
He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”
“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.
“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”
“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.
You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.
“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.
He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”  
He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.
He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.
He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.
“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.
Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.
“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.
“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”
He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.
He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”
Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.
Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.
He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.
“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”
“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”
“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”
After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.
You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.
As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.
“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.
Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”
“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”
“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”
He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”
“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”
“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”
You lie. “I don’t have one.”
He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”
(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!)
PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)
904 notes · View notes
ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 11 months ago
Note
hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!
criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader
i’d love any explicit smut 😋
ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀
hahaha sorry the brain rot is real
thank you if you do this!!
and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm
༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
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— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader
— summary: your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.
— warnings: established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!
— wc: 2018
⋆ a/n: WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!
masterlist | AO3
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Aaron felt his eye twitch. 
His eye never twitches.
The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you. 
He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you. 
Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers? 
With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.
Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.
Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.
Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.
Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.
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It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.
He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!
Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.
“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.
He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips. 
He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.
He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck. 
“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness. 
“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”
“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”
“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”
Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?
“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure. 
“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.
“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”
He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction. 
Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.
Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision. 
His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.
“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.
The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.
Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.
“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”
Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.
“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?” 
“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants. 
With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.
Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.
“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.
Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening. 
The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.
“Move.” You grunted quietly. 
Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you. 
He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.
“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.
He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders. 
The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”
“Mhm! I can! I know I can!” 
“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?” 
His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.
A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.
“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”
“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”
What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.
“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”
Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.
That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?” 
To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.
“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.
Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.
“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.
Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.
You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.
“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.
“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”
“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.” 
You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.
“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”
“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.
“I want to lay like this for a minute.”
“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna
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cherry-pop-elf · 4 months ago
Text
Kiss it Better Pt:3
Curly x Reader
AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!
SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them
Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))
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You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.
You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.
Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.
Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.
Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.
So you were left on your own.
You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.
While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.
Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.
That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.
At least not in comparison to Jimmy.
With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.
That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.
It’s something. Something is better than nothing.
With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.
Jimmy can’t know.
Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.
Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.
“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”
You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.
Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.
It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?
With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.
Ones that needed codes.
Codes you knew.
Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.
You went to the lower locker and typed it in.
Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.
A transmitter.
He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.
So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.
You took a deep breath, and opened.
There really was a god.
There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.
Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.
Remain calm, and focus.
You can’t fuck this up.
You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.
As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.
Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.
Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.
“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”
A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.
“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.
“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”
Deep breaths.
“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.
“Are you all in any immediate danger?”
You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.
“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”
And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.
There was hope.
Now was a matter of survival.
One month.
You all needed to survive one month.
One Month Until Rescue…
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@dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya
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andcars · 4 months ago
Text
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# 𝗠𝗩𝟯𝟯 ─── GAMER MOMENTS MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3
YOU'RE A MINECRAFT STREAMER and get in contact with some new guys. one of them won't stop bullying you. it's kinda silly how he acts like he's being subtle that he's trying to flirt with you.
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TAGS. . . # fluff, bullying as flirting, pining max verstappen, 'oblivious' reader, minecraft streamers
FIC STYLE. . . # social media au (instagram chats, tweets)
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zsync
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ty FSMP for having me. that being said, hopefull i didn't give too much of a bad impression to some of ya'll....
liked by albonono, grussell and 7,742 others
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stellaroit i MISSED A ZSYNC STREAM?!?!?
orrifices RIP it was a funny stream
stellaroit what happened the vod isn't out yet
rudemi played minecraft in a new friend group and just decided to cause chaos towards this other streamer the entire time
angeleles who the hell is this lion33 dude and why did he have to hog all the wheat
divissx CHAT THE FURNACE IS NOT FURNACING!! highlight of the stream
lion33 mate i need u to leave the smp
albonono You're just jealous she got all the diamonds in the main island
lion33 completely unrelated
zsync (i'm not) sorry max
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ynpng
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chat i am not washed at minecraft
liked by alexalbono, georgerussell and 219 others
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georgerussell Disagree
ynpng like i ASKED
alexalbono Slay
alexalbono Btw why're u off priv do u know that
ynpng yessir
alexalbono Suspicious
alexalbono Are you joining the server soon. Max is annoying me
ynpng stop hogging my comments + maybe idk i'm still bitter abt him killing my cows
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lion33
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appreciate @ albonono for letting me on his stream. i do have his password now btw
liked by albonono, grussell, zsync and 13,611 others
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zsync WAS THAT WHY ALEX WAS JUST MUTED THE ENTIRE TIME?? IT WAS YOU??
lion33 lol
albonono @ zsync he was enjoying receiving flowers from you too much
lion33 your base? exploded.
shouula i love having a pov of max smiling like an idiot when yn was treating him like alex (aka kindly)
vrikrik real. yn is living the y/n life. what i would do to make him smile like that
albonono If u wanted to flirt do it on your own stream I literally went to piss
lion33 ???
massuech dude this is the weirdest softlaunch ever
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zsync @ zsyncc · 28 October i'm never playing this game again
141 replies 881 reposts 1.8k likes
Max V @ lion33 · 28 October — Replying to @ zsyncc ur being dramatic lol my house was griefed i needed somewhere to stay 41 replies 331 likes
mia 🕸 @ webberstrr · 28 October — Replying to @ lion33 just say you wanted to put your beds together in minecraft and leave 2 replies 6 likes
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EVE @ eeves1 · 28 October so we agree that max and yn were flirting the entire thing right
14 replies 7 reposts 63 likes
EVE @ eeves1 · 28 October — Replying to @ eeves1 i don't like rpf but it is kinda funny how max was goading yn on like a kindergarten with a crush 3 replies 7 likes
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zsync
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my beautiful house before it was INVADED BY THE DUTCH (also here's the mirmir bath pics ya'll begged for)
liked by albonono, grussell , lion33 and 7,742 others
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pineeapper KITTYYY
lion33 you could've just said no
zsync would u have taken no as an answer?
lion33 no haha this is what u get for stealing my diamonds
littelorrenst chaotic stream as always
piapastry no one else gonna question the weird domesticity of her and max? no? ok
albonono Why're you reposting the mirmir pics from your "priv" account
zsync because i can
lion33 what? u have a priv?
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Yn | You are now private messaging @ ynpng 142 followers · 521 posts
lion33 this isn't private lmao
ynpng no i just took it off priv for a bit
lion33 oh. ok btw like do u wanna film something tgt soon
ynpng yea sure why not
lion33 cool cool yea friday?
ynpng sure
lion33 shared a location
ynpng huh
lion33 where we can meet. alex told me you live near me so
ynpng wait omfg i thought u meant like stream
lion33 oh it's ok if u want it to be just a stream like minecraft or smthn
ynpng no no its okay. i need new vid on my main yt anyways
lion33 u sure? lol it's ok if u dont wanna film irl w me
ynpng stop being such a hard ass maxy. i say yes to filming
lion33 cool. thanks btw i really like ur videos 👍
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zsync
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causing chaos in the toy store in my new video. thank you @ lion33 for featuring and being my slave for the day
liked by albonono, grussell, lion33 and 64,147 others
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wiiredxs never thought id get to see max doing an irl vlog willingly
hamiston who messed with the timeline why am i seeing max and yn tgt
vrikrik RIGHT like max flew a plane just to film this video 😭 they live in diff continents
lion33 sighs
albonono Your flirting technique sucks
lion33 shut the fuck up
orrifices am i delusional is this not the equivalent to teasing ur friend over his crush
grussell Yn, I hope you're seeing this
zsync seeing what
grussell Crikey...
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Yn | You are now private messaging @ ynpng
georgerussell I don't wanna be the bearer of news... But Max has a crush on you
ynpng that's crazy dawg
georgerussell Okay I need some more reaction than that Me and the guys' GC have been talking about it ever since the first FSMP stream
ynpng whattttttt he's whatttttttt
georgerussell What in the Have you like known this the entire time
ynpng George. The man is a Monaco based streamer. I do not live in Monaco. He told me that Alex said we live near each other. I can kinda tell when people have a crush...
georgerussell And that's just your reaction!? I still expected something!
ynpng ill give u a reaction if he does something more obvious in the next stream
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zsync @ zsyncc · 8 November fsmp birthday stream 2nite y'all. wish me bday luck i need netherite
568 replies 7k reposts 12.9k likes
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EVE @ eeves1 · 8 November alright are we ever going to talk about how max (and im entirely sure it's max) put netherites in yn's chest like that was so cute...
27 replies 142 reposts 628 likes
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♠ | FIO @ butt3fl1es · 8 November WHY DID I ENTER THE STREAM TO MAX MAXPLAINING ABOUT MONACO BOYS NOT BEING FUCKBOYS!?!?
WHAT IS HE YAPPING ABT
16 replies 7 reposts 88 likes
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#33 @ quetoii · 8 November someone needs to tell max his cam is still on everyone can see him giggling after yn thanked him for his gift
23 replies 98 reposts 218 likes
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dumb blonde moment @ jaccalps · 8 November — Replying to @ quetoii it's his fault anyways like no one streams minecraft w their cam on for maximum laziness
2 replies 6 likes
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ynpng 🔒
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@ lion33 thanks for the present! and you, I guess. but seriously, you need like better courting skills. my nephew could do way better than you and he's 3yo
liked by alexalbono, georgerussell and 327 others
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alexalbono I'm sorry, courting!?
ynpng if bullying me counts as courting yeah
georgerussell ... No one won the bet
lion33 this is why you don't start a bet
georgerussell Mate, no one expected you to try and get with her like two weeks when you first met
ynpng ok to clarify, we are not dating. he's funny and he's rich so im letting him try
layladook girl whyre you a red flag 😭
lion33 my fave color has always been red
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🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . ok so i decided to do like my tweets as the text so it was easier for me to make this + less images uploaded. feel free to tell me if it's better or bad from how i used to do it before. anyways this was funny to write. i love minecraft. i love that max loves minecraft. it's just a bunch of tomfoolery around here also, my birthday is actually on the 8th so lil easter egg lmao ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.
──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @tribbisweetdear @jamie2305 @mv1simp
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you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡
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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago
Note
Drabble request—trying to explain to Hotch posting him on Instagram/making it Instagram official!
The Hard Launch [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Drabble]
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Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 600
TW: Age gap, social media use, non-BAU reader, Aaron Hotchner POV
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Aaron Hotchner had never been one for social media. Not one bit.
To him, the value of a private life far exceeded the lure of likes and comments. 
However, as he sat across from you in the soft glow of your living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers danced with nervous energy over your phone screen. 
Penelope, who lived next door to you, had been the architect of your meeting. Her intuition had proved impeccable, as usual. Despite the age gap of twenty years between you and Hotch, the connection was undeniable. It was your youthfulness that breathed new life into his structured world, and in turn, he offered a grounding stability you cherished.
Although, in this moment, he felt from an entirely different generation.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hotch's voice was laced with caution as he watched you meticulously select a photo from your gallery.
You nodded, biting your lip in concentration. "Yes, but it has to be perfect. This isn’t just any post, Aaron. It’s us...going public. Officially."
Hotch’s brow furrowed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in thought. "And this is important because…?" His tone wasn’t dismissive, merely inquisitive. He genuinely sought to understand this slice of your world.
You paused, the selected photo of the two of you from Dave's retirement party displayed on your screen—both of you caught mid-laughter, a snapshot of genuine happiness. "It's about crafting the narrative we want to share. This," you gestured to the photo, "tells a story of joy. Of us. It’s not just for my friends but for anyone who comes across it. I want them to see the happiness we share, not just the age difference."
Hotch took the phone from your hands, studying the image. He had always been protective of his private life, especially after the tragedy with Haley and the constant threats that came with his job. But looking at the photo, the happiness evident in his usually reserved expression, he felt a rare surge of pride.
"You make a compelling argument," Hotch admitted, handing back the phone. "So, how do you make it ‘perfect’ then?"
You smiled, a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. "It’s about the caption too. It sets the tone." You started typing, your thumbs moving swiftly. "'A new chapter begins with endless possibilities,'" you read aloud, then looked up at him for approval.
"Poetic," he commented dryly, but his small, affectionate smile betrayed his appreciation. "You really think this is necessary?"
"It’s like marking a milestone," you explained, your gaze softening. "It's telling the world that this is my choice, our choice, and we’re happy. It's setting boundaries too, declaring that what matters is the narrative we choose to share and nothing else."
Understanding dawned on him then. It was a declaration, a way to control the story before others had the chance to define it for you. In his line of work, control was everything, yet here he was, learning a different kind of control—over personal perceptions and societal narratives.
"Okay, post it," Hotch said finally, the protective instinct giving way to support for your happiness. You looked at him, a mixture of relief and love washing over you, before pressing the share button.
As you set your phone aside, Hotch reached for your hand, a silent acknowledgment of the new step you both were taking. "How long until the world knows?"
You chuckled, "Give it a few minutes. Penelope probably already has the notifications on."
True to your words, within minutes your phone buzzed with Penelope’s enthusiastic approval and a stream of comments that followed. Hotch couldn’t help but feel a sense of rightness about it all. Maybe, just maybe, this social media thing had its merits, especially if it meant the world would know how proud he was to have you by his side.
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yojeongin · 6 months ago
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I remember everything | j.jh
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→burnt-out writer!jaehyun x host f!reader
genre: smut, angst, fluff, summer fling, found home, strangers to lovers to strangers again, missed connection, 80's au
synopsis: jaehyun didn’t think meeting you in that quaint lonesome countryside town would come in between him and writing something hopeful and lively in contrast to all of his gloomy work. in fact it was a blessing to have someone help him navigate the foreign country. yet life always has something up its sleeve no matter how soul crushing.
warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions/implementations of poor mental health, abusive higher ups, mentions of bad parenting, unprotected sex.
wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3
© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated!
disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.
an: summer is gone and I tried posting this for the past 2 months so here is an ode to the place that inspired it all.
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The contents of the box had been sitting unwrapped for what felt like an eternity after recalling last week’s events. The miscellaneous items your family sent were a recurring sight but it was rare that Ollie sent you anything besides his letters. 
What disturbed you most is his choice of item. Those bold scripted yellow letters mock you. You weren’t upset with him, you could never be upset with him. You know it’s not his doing, that he was put up to it. What upsets you is the resurfacing thoughts you had hid away in the vault of your memory years ago when you remained naive and to your disgrace revived with one detail.
Courage was the last thing in you. It surged through, more so forcibly, perhaps even masochistically. That seems correct because the second you open to the first page, images you believed you would never see, fly out, reminding you of a life that you can only describe as a daydream.
Every single image had something written in the back of it. You attempt to refrain from reading each note. With no avail, the loops of his handwriting draw you in as much as his piercing gaze and the smile you still dream about – those dimples you can’t forget no matter how much you now look at them on someone else.
There’s a folded letter slotted before the dedication page. It smells like him and you can’t help being transported to the summer you met him. The pleasantly strong cologne you could smell even in the masses of stench when cleaning the pen. Or through the window you two sneaked kisses at night. 
You don’t want to cry, you truly try not to, yet the waterworks flow when you finally focus on the dedication page of this damned book. 
‘To the life I needed all along… I remember everything.’
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Jaehyun remembers with fondness the tranquility of what he considers home. The warmth that filled his chest with every waking moment he spent in that beautiful quaint village. And now looking and thinking back at it, that fondness muddles with the pain in his heart. That’s not what he wants nor needs, that’s not what he came here for.
Jaehyun could get behind it, it was nice. He immediately got used to the cool breeze which felt more like a chilly autumn rather than the grueling summer. He could definitely get used to the smell of wood burning from stoves and chimneys that indicated locals began their day. Similar enough to the rough housing from goats and sheep’s bleats to roosters for them to shut up, that the sun was enough of a wake up call. 
Fairly loud, not nearly as much as the city. It was one thing to admire the beauty outside of his temporary residence. Bougainvillea vines, flamboyant and bright, purloining his attention to let him know they were the star of the show, overshadowing any other house around.
Jaehyun needed something and all he knew was that he had to escape the constraints of his overpopulated and 24/7 bustling city that has cursed him to hell multiple times for not giving it a heartfelt ovation. How could he when he’s been shown nothing but hatred from it since he stepped foot in that hell hole?
Things should be different here, he knows that – he’s been shown. 
His taxi driver spoke idly about his day. Describing the breakfast his wife had made before he left. His daughter had visited to drop off their grandson while she went to work at the local market but in the process the kid had fallen down the steep steps claiming all he wanted as comfort was to spend time with his ‘Tito’. So there he was making rocket sounds and hammering the glove compartment with the pale sun-eaten toy car that caused his fall. In the process, turning back to Jaehyun asking if he liked dishes he had never heard of before that the kid didn’t like himself.
Jaehyun remembers it well. 
How can such a beautiful place bring him agony? 
He wanted to stray away from those pessimistic feelings that had shackled him for years, tainting every single one of his pieces. When his publisher and manager told him it would be best to go somewhere he’d know nothing about his world, to have time to think about a new story, he was the first one to say goodbye, muttering under his breath that he wished he’d never see them again. Jaehyun was elated to know he was given a golden ticket out. 
The past few launches and expectations had been hectic. Drowning him with stress and though many would think being a successful writer at such a young age was all fun and games, they'd think otherwise when your team is hollering in your ear daily to come up with new content and critics claiming you’ve yet again failed to provide anything meaningful besides pretentiousness. 
Jaehyun is tired of that dark monotonous and consuming cycle they’re forcing him to be in. So he’s hopeful and excited to see what this beautiful rural village can bring him. Hopeful that it’ll break those shackles of misery that cling to him until his ankles bruise and bleed. Hopeful to find meaning to this life that he’s been searching for. 
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Struck with awe throughout his entire trajectory down the cobble and dirt-filled path from midtown to the house, the animal noises he had managed to drown became louder upon pushing open the metal door, growing wary. When he finally crossed the threshold he was met with the image of someone tussling with a ram, enough to get tackled and Jaehyun can only explain that feeling as freight.
That was the first time he met you.
From far away and with his feet grounded in fear, the fear you didn’t have regardless of all those rammings. That must’ve hurt, Jaehyun thinks so. How could it not? The beast came in charging three times, each making the impact seem worse. Twisted horns able to bruise the skin of your thighs.
Every step closer increases his shock. Muffled groans and curses from you mixed with laughter from your grandfather that stood and watched. Neither of you blame him, being the victim of that damn thing at 80 had caused irreparable damage to his hip. There’s nothing he could have done. At best he mangles the rope beside the stake, swinging it in hopes of getting it off you. 
Jaehyun felt inutile. He had no experience with animals nor with any labor besides what his father would drag him into. It’s not his fault he became a writing prodigy. His brute strength was useless if he was too scared to jump into the pen to help you. 
It was more shocking when a scrawny boy in a simple white tee, dusty jeans, heavy work boots just as muddy had pushed through him. Yelling something he couldn’t understand but later found it meant “Get the fuck out the way!” He didn’t mean to be malicious but he was scared himself. Jumping over the pen’s fence and pulling the damned ram off of you, he slaps its rear as a form of discipline. It amazes Jaehyun how effortless he made it look.
Finally free and things having calmed down, Jaehyun saw the elderly man seize his laughter. Genuine tears slip from his eyes. He was scared, truly scared it could have been your end. Having experienced it himself, he couldn’t help both sympathize and feel guilty. You and the kid reassured him it was fine. It wasn’t a first but your grandpa wouldn’t hear it, sighing as he continued to sob. 
Jaehyun later found that he was insanely sensible. Laughing things off to calm himself to eventually break down.
In attempts to ease his pain, you had sent the young boy to fetch your grandpa a coke and some bread. 
Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared 
Making your way with a limp that your grandfather mimicked due to his own attack and age, Jaehyun finally approaches you both, voice slightly quivering.
“Are you alright?!” Jaehyun quips, your head turns to him un-amusedly. Cautious but relaxed for whoever’s sake. “Yeah… it’s not the first time.” You try to smile at the stranger who is obviously not from the village inside the premise of your grandparent’s home. It only dawned upon you who he was when you noticed the pristine suitcases in his hands. Holding the handles like a lost victorian count in search of a new start in the bustling dirty city – despite the contrast.
“You’re the new tenant, right?” You ask, limp finally gone after something cracked. Jaehyun winces, amused with the nonchalant tone in your voice; he nods fervently. “Yeah, um, I can pay for a few months up front if you don’t mind.” Neither of you had noticed that both had stopped walking, your grandpa already in the house, leaving you to speak with the young and attractive man before you.
“Months?”
Jaehyun nods. “If you don’t mind or have another tenant.” He feels sheepish; confident in your eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s been open for months.” 
It’s amazing to him how you’re acting like you didn’t almost need a ride to the nearest hospital. Seeing the limp gone and crouching down to pick up a bucket full of dry corn kernels like nothing. He could have believed everything he saw didn’t really happen. 
It’s recurring if he thinks back to it, how everything felt so fleeting and surreal. He despises and feels it mocking him daily.
Following you around like a lost puppy while you sprinkled the ground with those kernels, he took note of the expression on your face. You’re still in pain, it’s written all over the movements you make. He rules you’re ignoring it to not seem ill before him or specifically to reassure your grandfather. 
Jaehyun has a strong image in your eyes. It would crumble with just about anything and you felt comfortable figuring that out. Just like it has done now, with chickens rushing and flooding the area to gobble down their meal. Jaehyun was startled and scared they’d peck him in the process. 
You try not to laugh despite the giggles leaving in spurts. Nearing the kitchen door, you stop in your tracks to look at him. “Don't worry about the pay, it won't be necessary.” It troubles him and this time he won’t hold his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t going to but as soon as his lips parted, the sprint door opened, showing a much shorter and pudgier older woman. He reckons that’s your grandmother so he smiles and greets her accordingly. 
She accepts it, returning the favor before going back to business in handing you the bowl full of pepper seeds and stems to feed the chickens. That left him and your grandmother alone, inviting him to the kitchen.
He studied the kitchen upon crossing the threshold, admiring the huge chimney in the right corner, soot covered it along the boiling metal bucket of water. There was a chair in front of it, one of those school chairs that cling onto your hair until it’s off your scalp. 
A metal cabinet in between the entrance door and the hallway. It’s dusty, showcasing fine china that was never used. He found the cracks above the very tall ceilings the most enchanting, all leading to portraits above the hallway’s threshold. Trajectory and lineage demonstrated through the years. Most recently: one of you with your diploma. 
Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.
“Come, I’ll show you around.” 
The tour was simple, the hallway that connected the main room and kitchen was a room in itself. Privacy wasn’t really an option within these walls but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one sleeping in the main house.
All he had to know about this house was that it was an old canteen that your grandmother’s father bought for her as a wedding gift. The hallway had a bed your grandfather slept on, a couch he sat to watch the TV propped on top of a dresser in the main room –where he’d join him often– and a door that led to the guest’s area.
Despite the open concept, she didn’t show him the room where you and her slept in. He caught a glimpse of a door to the only restroom in there –restroom with a window he would spend his nights at often–, a vanity you both filled with expired products, and two beds on opposite sides. He figures the one with a pristine Garfield plush was yours. 
Jaehyun felt the clarity of finding home within these few minutes. It was summer and the house was freezing without a clunky AC unit, he was in heaven if you asked him. It felt cozy and he liked that it wasn’t stuffy like his apartment back home, it felt like love. Cold, unspoken care and love.
The tour ended by the time both reached the guest area. The door was open after you swept but things never lasted clean here, the entrance full of dust again. Your grandmother looked tired and apologetic that she couldn’t continue, reassuring him his room was fine, warranting her to yell your name and rushing to her side.
She asks you to show him, motioning for him to follow you with your head. It felt like a full circle when you both hopped down the step from the house to the courtyard. He looked at the threshold he entered through, the door was closed now, decorated with flowers made out of dust, crafted by Ollie when he had free time. Your grandfather sat on a chair near the pen with the young man, eating his bread and smoking a cigarette that he pretends to hide. 
Following you, Jaehyun took notice of the mountain of rocks and flowers near his room. A monument to a holy being he had only seen a few times. It was beautiful, vibrant flowers in comparison to the rocks. Some cactus and critters roam on small trinkets and a river flows up and down each rock.
Jaehyun finds himself behind a wall of jacarandas which cover the entrance to his room. The door unlocks with a screech, Jaehyun, hopeful it was just as inviting as the home only to be shortly disappointed when it felt warm inside and the walls maintained a darker hue. It was newly made, it lacks love.
Sensing his hesitance, your voice aims to distract him. “It’s not much, the bed is new if you must know. My uncle should bring in the TV but in the meantime you have free reign to the boombox or the kitchen’s.” Apologetic smile decorating your face. “You can open the window if it gets hot, Ollie is fixing up the fan. Feel free to go into the house, we don’t mind.” You hope that will help his decision, you’d hate to see him leave.
He wants to thank you with the words stuck in his throat, something you noticed well enough that intensified the feeling that clogged your own. “Um, yeah… New bed, the lamp and main light work, window opens, and you have your own personal bathroom. Unfortunately, the boiler is still very old fashioned so you will have to warm it or boil some water in the chimney to shower.” You hope that repeating yourself will convince him, restraining yourself from begging.
It has its flaws but he has decided not to care. “I’ll take it. It’s still $130 for the month, right?” He smiles boyishly, putting down his suitcases. It gives you a sense of tenderness and relief. You want to sigh and smile, giggle with appreciation. “Don’t worry about that, the room is yours.” You hand him the key, that’s the best you can manage.
His lip slightly juts out and eyebrows furrow with your words. “What do you mean by that? Please, I insist.” He turns to you, taking a step closer, forcing you to bite the inside of your lower lip. “I can double it if you prefer.” He pleads, head tilting to the side with wide eyes. It’s not intentional, he’s unaware of the effects he has on people. He’s scared you’re tricking him to not keep the room, to give it to someone else. Almost like you aren’t finding his presence enjoyable. If only he knew how much you would love for him to stay. 
“It’s not that, trust me.” You walk towards the door, avoidingly. “It’s nice to not be alone. To have someone else around.” Your eyes don’t meet his, he understands. Letting it go, he thanks you in a whisper. “By any chance can I use your phone?” He asks in attempts to change the atmosphere. 
Apologies fill your eyes like previous conversations. “It’s off until Monday.” It’s Wednesday. 
“There’s a little store a block or two from here, not far at all. You can leave from either side, it’s flamboyantly yellow so you won’t miss it.” His excursion to find this place alone will say otherwise. “The name is painted on with neon green, ‘Gaby’s’ it’s called.” You laugh, looking at the expression on his face. He thanks you and follows behind the exit of the room, parting ways. 
Despite the rundown homes and slight deterioration here and there, Jaehyun liked the tranquility and uncertainty in pertinence to the weather. One second he is granted with the warmth of vitamin D, the other he is threatened with the smell of wet dogs. This town had it all, yet none of it interfered with the breeze that calmed him as his hair waltzed around, singing in his ear that he was in the right hands, finally at ease. 
You were right about not missing the store. He can laugh now – he did when taking the final corner, being met with what he felt was covered in buckets of highlighter ink. It was almost comical how opposite the owner was from her lively store and home.
“Good morning.” He mutters, “What are your rates for long distance calls?” She looks at him, pulling out a booklet from the phone company, arms working like it’s a chore. 
“How far?” “Overseas.”
She looks at him through lashes, sighing, flipping another page. 
“$3.56 per minute.”
Jaehyun’s eyes bulge out, nodding frighteningly. The process goes accordingly: she hands him the phone, writes down his name and the location before looking at him to dial on that old dinky home phone. The wires are sticky from tape residue with some edges popping out. It was her mother’s from 1957 but she loves it more than her third born.
He rotates the wheel, hanging up one or three times until he finally gets it. When the other line finally picks up, she starts a timer. “It’ll be quick.” He mentions. “Take your time.” She smiles.
“Hello? Hellooo~.” The voice on the other line calls out, ready to hang up, a pair of blondes far more important than this are waiting for him. “Hyunjoo?” Jaehyun asks, hand clasping the bottom of the phone. “Yeah? Who is this?” His words sound slurred, not enough to call him drunk.
“It’s Jaehyun.”
An eruption of laughter and greetings is heard in the background, smiling at how welcoming it felt, although strange. “Jaehyunie! How are you finding it there? Fun?… You know when Jude showed me the pictures I thought you were crazy for choosing that… place! Do you think you can hold out long?!” He laughs diminishingly, Jaehyun’s smile falters, his heart aching as it usually does when it comes to Hyunjoo. 
He clears his throat, standing straight. “It’s great, I really like it so far and I’ve only seen the house.” He musters a laugh. “Listen, long-distance calls are expensive so I think we should only communicate through letters, okay? I just wanted to call to let you know I was fine.” He’s ready to end the conversation here. It didn’t start how he wanted it and a reminder of his actuality is not what he wants.
“No… no, now wait a minute!” It wasn’t Hyunjoo on the line anymore but Jude, his manager who was far more sober than his publisher. Some tussling and grunting here and there on the other line, Jaehyun sighs looking at how quickly he was pushing three minutes already. 
Eventually Jude got through, scolding the drunkard. “Now what do you mean you won’t call? Don’t be dumb, I need to hear from you!” He bites onto his cigarette, scolding Jaehyun like a small kid, like the child he pretends is his. “It’s too much, Jude. Plus, the house doesn’t have a phone right now so you can’t reach me.” His foot bounces, scoffing like a petulant child proclaiming independence from their family. 
Jude went on a tirade about how it wasn’t good for Jaehyun to go cold on them but the younger one wasn’t hearing it. The entire premise of this trip was to forget about them all so why won’t they let him? “Okay too much time, too much money, bye!” Jaehyun cuts the conversation short, giggling as the yelling got louder. Seizing when the timer hits six minutes and thirty-seven seconds. 
“$24.92.” A wide smile decorates the owner’s rotund face, sticking her hand out. Nothing left but to sigh and hand her the money. 
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Jaehyun takes this opportunity to explore the village, mesmerized by the intricacies of carved ornate decorations onto walls and doors. In awe with the obvious distinctions between newly built homes and colonial ones he found far more attractive. Architecture was not his only interest, not when the mocking tango of scent swirls drag him to the plaza. Taunting him with delectable treats and meals at every corner and hall.
If he wanted to fall further in love, then the market currently taking place should do. Colorful carps and music from corner to corner, swaying him through the fabric made halls. Jingles of welcomings and hollering flood the ears of every passerby. Whether he wanted fresh produce, flavored shaved ice, fruit cocktails, clothes, or even toys, Jaehyun could find it all. It reminded him of the swap meet he encountered with his friends once when living in Connecticut years ago. This was surely far more inviting and lively. 
Through his trail around the halls, Jaehyun came to a halt upon seeing you standing before your grandfather on the bench your grandmother’s family had donated. Worry filled your face but the older man’s laughter was far more deafening and comforting. An internal warmth forces your head to turn, spotting him immediately for your eyes to meet.
“Need help?” Jaehyun offers embarrassedly, you deny. Your grandfather is receptive despite your light scolding. “It’s fine, really.” You try but both men insist. “Do you know how to repair cars?” Your grandfather asks, Jaehyun shakes his head apologetically, all which prompts your grandpa to huff and shake his own head.
“The car broke down.” He’s met with another of your apologetic smiles, as if he’s the one being wronged and not you and your grandfather. “I’m just going to finish off the shopping, mind giving him an eye?” You ask Jaehyun, the first favor to be exact and he couldn't be more elated to not feel useless.
It’s shut down by the older of the three, complaining and almost throwing a tantrum over how he didn’t need a babysitter. It wasn’t completely wrong, the entire village knew him so watchful eyes were all around, it’s not like you couldn’t trust him to be on his own. “No, no. Matter of fact, help her with the bags. Go on, look at how heavy they are.” He scolds Jaehyun, throwing away any unfamiliarity out the window. That’s one thing about him, he’s too trusting. 
Like a child in between parents having an argument, Jaehyun didn’t know who to listen to. Fortunately you give up and sigh, motioning with your head for him to follow you. He took a handful of bags from your hand, some left in the care of your grandfather that was well situated on the bench.
He gave you both his blessing, shooing you off to embark in an awkwardly silent walk with nothing but the blaring music vendors played to fill that emptiness. He had so much he wanted to ask, to say, to know what you could teach him about the village or if you knew how he could travel to neighboring ones. He was giddish and that’s all that took for you to turn to him with a smile.
“Quite a bad host, aren’t I? I didn’t even introduce myself.” You giggle, stopping at a stand. “It’s okay, I didn’t either, I’m sorry. I’m Jaehyun.” 
“Y/n,” You give him a quick glance, taking a bag from a vendor. “What are you doing here, anyways? No one comes here for pleasure.” Jaehyun could tell more words hung on the tip of your tongue, ones you swallow down. He didn’t know how to answer. If someone else asked him, he’d mention how he wanted some inspiration, to see what he could bring into fruition but with you his sincere words threatened to spill. 
How could he mutter: “I think I hate my life and those in it, so my manager and publisher shipped me off somewhere I’d be far from that world. I think they just wanted to get rid of me but it’s what I wanted all along…”
“Oh?”
Shit. Just like that. 
“I-I… I didn’t mean to say that.” He scolds himself. This had never happened before, what the hell was that?! Your laughter doesn’t help and he’s scared you’re laughing at his problems. He doesn’t want to believe someone like you could be this cruel.
“It’s okay.” 
That’s not reassuring. “It’s okay. I hated where I was a year ago too, so I was also shipped here.” That’s comforting– somewhat. 
Your shoulders shimmy as you pay for the produce, walking towards another stand. “Granted, my aunt got sick. She was my grandparents' caretaker but it was getting worse and I took the role.” From the depths of your pocket, you pull out some pumpkin seeds, handing him a few for him to crack, not counting with the coating of salt to scald his tongue. 
“She comes back here and there to check in and help but eventually she has to go back for constant checkups. I hadn’t found a job right out of college so this was my next best option and I like it – far more so, I think.” A sincere smile adorns your face; this was comforting.
Things went far more smoothly after that introduction. He told you about his books and what he wanted to do here. He told you about how miserable he felt and how abusive the city seemed to be towards him. You told him that you missed your city but the reality of facing adulthood in the area was weighing down on you. He figured this was your reality escape and although grim on your end, he felt ecstatic for himself. He felt like he finally found exactly what he needed.
The conversation went well with a few laughs here and there until reaching full circle with cups of shaved ice in a bag to take home and yours in hand. Bliss was momentarily gone when you reached the bench and didn’t spot your grandfather. Regardless, it didn’t take long for a seller to let you know his nephew gave him a ride. 
These instances made Jaehyun appreciate your gentleness for your grandparents. Although aware of how you try to hide your emotions from him, the guard falls when it comes to them. It’s admirable.
Noise didn’t break the bubble of silence you remained in until entering the kitchen where your grandfather was sitting at a table already, your grandmother making his coffee while Ollie tired and sweaty relaxed by the door, munching on a candybar he bought when getting the fright remedy. A token of appreciation from your grandfather for the cigarette.
“We didn’t see you, I almost had a heart attack.” You mock reprimand, a smile setting on your face seeing the older man safe and sound. No matter how hard you try to act angry, seeing him eat the rest of his bread while waiting for lunch calms you down. “I’m the old one here, save the ailments for another sixty years.” he cackles, Jaehyun beginning to find comfort in your grandfather’s ability to find humor in anything.
“I think our guest might want out already.” He teases, sneaking a piece from Ollie’s candy. The boy doesn’t protest, doing the same with the shaved ice you brought. Jaehyun felt his ears warm up, nervously denying it with no avail as your grandpa kept insisting with that same laugh. Dying when your grandma scolds him to leave Jaehyun alone.
Jaehyun giggles quietly, shaking his head. “Please believe me. I think it’s beautiful so far.” Your grandma hums, the one to speak is Ollie. “There’s nothing here. What’s beautiful about it?” He shrugs with a scowl. “He hasn’t seen the other towns, give it time, Ol.” You intervene, forcing him to taste test the rice.  
“Well, what if you and Ollie, whenever he can, show…”
“Jaehyun.” You help your grandmother, playfully glaring at the young boy for feedback on the dish. The elderly give each other a quick glance while Ollie makes a mocking thumbs down when he knows the smile on his face says otherwise.
She nods, scooping a spoonful of lard into the pan. “Why don’t you and Ollie show Jaehyun around after your duties. I doubt he wants to stay all hours here.” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. He’s embarrassed, he’s also bashful and feels imposing. “It’s okay, I can manage. I don’t want to overstep.” He nervously chuckles, ears brightening.
“Okay.” You shut him up. He turns to you, silence deafening yet comforting, even when you finally lift your head to look at him, nodding. “It’s okay, just let us know what you want to see.” You’re much calmer than he is, it causes his body to tense despite being thankful with how inviting you are. How inviting you all are, he thinks he can see himself here for longer.
“Thank you.” He meets your eyes with a smile, thankful and glad. It’s reciprocated, knocking down the nonchalant act.
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The first outings don’t go past the premises of the village. With planting being the main priority, neither you or Ollie have time to take him anywhere. The younger spent his days working the tractor, taking your grandfather up and down as his mentor despite his own father being there. 
Jaehyun tried to help once but was booted by both men and their laughter. He won’t fault them, he almost ruined a row of freshly planted beans and if he was to learn anything throughout this trip, he’d learn that any grain and imperfection was important enough to ruin the entire harvest. Instead he was left to pavement clearing, making sure no rocks or debris got in the way of vehicles.
The following week he had been left to his vices at home. You had apologetically told him they found assistance and he should enjoy his trip at home. Although there was nothing left to do, not for him at least. Your grandmother wouldn’t let him lift a finger in the kitchen and she didn’t like his cleaning style, leaving it to you if she was busy. 
Ollie had fixed the fan by now. The new motor made the room freeze, mimicking the room temperature of the home. Cold enough that Jaehyun preferred to leave the window open despite the crawlers that woke him at night. Now he contemplates whether he should turn the fan on or sleep with cotton filled eardrums. 
Jaehyun lays in bed, bored and antsy for something to do. The sound of your arguing with animals overpower the boombox next to his head, melodies he didn’t understand.
The fountain pen on his hand never felt far heavier, a sign that he had nothing new to produce. No, the only thing his hand mustered to write was the noises you made. Whatever pertains to you.
“Tutt-tutt.” “Cluth-cluth… No, Constance! Don’t peck me!” “Behhh, behhh! Here, what a cry baby.”
Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.
“Meow, meow, meow! I can do that too! I already fed you, Fina! Gluttony is a sin, you know.”
Days went on like this, it’s repetitious but he doesn’t complain. Past times he’d think what he’s doing now was all he wanted but a mind never rests and his body is antsy for new experiences. He no longer wants to lie and feel the breeze rush through the window to coddle him, forcing the sheer white curtains to dance around for his attention.
Jaehyun tucks away his journal, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on the work boots he bought with only four days here. Full of glee and excitement he bought them to help your grandfather. He reckoned if he was going to get down and dirty then he should be dressed accordingly. 
With pep to his step, Jaehyun makes a beeline towards the pen. What used to be barking of unfamiliarity turned to a simple bark for attention, received with wagging tails. He made sure to pat their heads until reaching the fence, looking at you conversing with Camila, the donkey. 
“Aha and what else did he do?... No! You should’ve kicked him straight in the leg, Cami. He can’t talk to you like that!.” You nod and hum at her playfully, received with brays and nods. Jaehyun doesn’t know what you’re talking about but he’s glad that you’re having fun.
New hay had been brought in the morning, far more greener and fresh which left the old hay to be moved around for maintenance. In the process of such, strays found themselves near the dogs, enough to crunch under his step. Like a deer caught in headlights, Jaehyun stops, ears reddening by the whip of your head and Camila’s blaring bray.
“Hi…” He mutters timidly, cause of your smile. “Hi.” You reciprocate with the softest welcoming. He takes the initiative to approach you, standing a few feet behind. Neither say anything, amused with Camila’s treacherous ways in leaving you to gain his attention. Head bumping onto his hand to mimic the pats he left on the dogs.
Pleased she throws a kick, sending old hay flying towards the lambs and goats that reproach her action. You share a giggle, forcing you two to give each other a quick glance. “I think she likes you.” You mention, “I like her too.” He replies, petting her ears, as red as his. “Well don’t feed her ego, now. It’s already through the roof.” You teasingly scoff, another airy laugh leaves him. 
“Don’t be harsh, I think she needs it. I mean, I don’t know what you two were talking about just now but it seems like she needed her confidence there.” He smiles at you, taking her face into both hands. Your groan makes him wink at Camila, thankful that he’s found something to converse with you. “Her and Ollie–” Camila brays, removing Jaehyun’s touch from her.  “They have such an intense hate-love relationship that his name throws her off, so I’m giving her advice on how to deal with it. Right, Mila?” Understandingly, she nods, seeking your attention again.
“Granted it’s all made up, she’s a little jealous but with you here I think Ollie should take the role.” She brays again, aiming to bite your hand. You get away just in time, sticking your tongue out at her. Jaehyun receives the image with laughter, his chest filled with joy.
He shakes his head, petting hers to calm her down. “No, I don’t want to be responsible for their failure.” You nod, picking up a metal rake. “Mind if I help you? It’s getting boring there…” He’s ashamed to admit it. You sympathize with him, after all when you used to visit you often fell in his shoes.
“Alright, a heads up, this will be messy work.” He nods obediently, eyes shimmering with their natural gloss and the sun’s reflection. 
Darn him and his cuteness! 
Blinking the thought away you hand him a broom and the rake. “Here, hold these while I tie up this  maniac.” Your eyes squint meeting those of the ram that tackled you when he arrived. His own mimicking yours, it was on and he knew it. 
With rope in your hand, test swings approaching the pen’s door, the beast starts to test the waters. Three…two…one! What ensues is a battle between both, Jaehyun trying his best to help. He envisioned that this rivalry is what Ollie and Camila had, he’d witness it a few days prior. The only exception that you and Whitey hated each other to the core. He never knew why. 
After a few falls and tugs here and there, you two managed to get him in the isolation pen. Scoffing and laughing as he settles on newly clean hay. While he relaxes, you both huff and hold onto the fence, wiping away any remnants of sweat. “Ready to work?” You question, Jaehyun felt like this was enough. Unfortunately it’s only the beginning.
With free and safe reign to go inside the pen, you lay out the map of where to go and be careful. The wall to the neighbors cooped the chickens. It was the time they laid eggs so cleaning it would be held off until a few days later. On the opposite side to the street, roosters had their own coups. 
“All you have to do is separate the poop from the hay, that’s what the rake is for.” Jaehyun figured you felt apologetic for the task as the look you gave him when presenting the room manifested itself onto your face. If you only knew that he’d never say no to you.
He mutters an ‘alright’ with his brilliant smile, reassuringly. “While you do that,” you watch him struggle, “I’ll clean this one.” Your voice slowed, concentrated on how to maneuver. You referred to the pen around a large cactus. He didn’t give it much thought when you went in, he also felt it wouldn’t be that hard, the livestock discard balls for goodness sake.
He had the confidence that died along the way he swept and raked. For small balls they were pungent and he wasn’t handling it well, the uncovered smell of piss added to it. You try not to laugh when he gagged or turned around so you wouldn’t see him cover his face but it was becoming hard.
Endearing is the word you’re thinking of, even when he perceives it as mockery that his face falls into a pout when he hears your laughter. “Please don’t laugh at me.” He practically begs, head lifting for a waft of fresh air before pushing old disgusting hay into a trash bag.
“I’m sorry,” A laugh escapes. “It’s good I’m the one here, I wouldn’t doubt Ollie tormenting you if it was him here.” Jaehyun agrees, the difference being that he wouldn’t care for Ollie's ridicule, he’d play along and try his best to improve. He cares for your opinion which is far different. 
“He did enough during harvest.”  “I heard.”
Silence befalls as you continue, the sun seems to have hidden behind clouds for the time being. 
“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.” You broke the peace, his ears perking at the condolence lacing your voice. “I know you wanted an escape and I’m sorry I haven’t been of much help.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Why are you blaming yourself for something that should only matter to him? He has free will and range to get up and take the next taxi or bus to neighboring towns. You shouldn’t blame yourself for his decisions.
Escapism might not have come to him in the way intended but everyday has become a new experience for him. “Don’t… I promise that even picking up droppings is something new for me.” He rebuttals your claim, mirroring the same apologetic look you give him. “Y/n… I’ve been coddled all my life, this entire experience has been a new step for me and I feel like Bambi, positively.” He smiles, widely enough that it’s the first time you notice his deep dimples.
You sigh, unsure if it’s from relief, pash, or in between. 
“Yeah, okay… I was in your shoes too when I began to stay as a caretaker. I’ve done all of this when I would visit but it was not as intense as it is now. I don’t mind, I’m here to help. I have to.” It sounds melancholic and he’s not sure how to interpret it.
Avoiding it you look around to see he’s done a good job. You’re actually very well impressed, the words that were meant to leave your mouth surely were appreciative but they’re shoved back down your throat when you attempt to stand up. It’s almost like his presence dumbifies you. Like you forget the world around you, manifesting itself in your careless and clueless actions like resting your open hand on a cactus while trying to stand up just to bring him comforting words. 
Instead he’s met with your yelp as you prick your hand, head, and shoulder in the process of standing and tumbling down. Whitey’s karma has served you, he bleats mockingly when you keep on hurting yourself within the premise of his home. 
Instinctively Jaehyun rushes to you, concerned and scared of what this could illicit. He isn’t safe of Whitey’s wrath, not when he helped you and has decreed the young brunette is of your interest. Rushing to your aid, Jaehyun doesn’t count on one of the sheep to leave her droppings on the path he’s taking. Fresh and new, it wasn’t difficult for Jaehyun to find himself slipping straight into the cactus that has served your own aches.
They say laughter is the best medicine. Both you and Jaehyun attempt it when your eyes meet but the throbbing is far more intense that you synchronize in wailing. Loud and tuneless, enough to drag out your grandmother from the kitchen and force laughter out of Ollie and your grandfather who were arriving from their daily duties.
Camila doesn’t stay too behind in her own laughter. You fear all the livestock was against you two or perhaps rooting for you in the most vicious way. It’s rotten to know this is the start of your shared misery and ache.
The accident had forced your grandparents to make it up to you both the following day. Early in the morning your grandfather drove you all to a neighboring town. Ollie groggily dragged himself out of his home despite his father’s complaints that he was being a burden. You reassured him he was always welcomed, your grandfather scolded his dad. Yelling at him to stop trying to force ideas in the boy’s head. 
Jaehyun had taken in the scenery on his taxi drive although he’s convinced something is different this time. Aside from your grandfather teasing everyone when driving along the edge of the mountains, Ollie clinging to you ready to cry as if he didn’t surpass all of you in height.
It takes roughly an hour and a half to arrive at the destination and almost another to find parking they eventually found was free and available behind a cathedral. Everyone laughs at each other for missing it when minutes prior your grandfather was ready to turn the car around, hangry and annoyed at how this damn town was overcrowded with no parking spots.
For once he felt like an actual tourist, visiting the restaurant you all loved and gorging himself with the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted in his life – besides his mother’s cooking, of course! For reassurance, she will witness how happy he looked while eating through the picture you managed to snap of him.
After the meal, your grandparents attempted to walk for digestion but age made them give up as soon as you all reached the town’s plaza. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, you saw no problem with it, they’re together. All they asked was to bring them those donuts they loved dearly and a soda to share. Ollie took it in his hands to beat you to it. Now there you and Jaehyun stood looking at the elderly couple sat before you.
At the time it didn’t feel like a scheme but looking back at it, Jaehyun is sure you figured it out as well. 
Despite the accident, you both went back to the timidness that sheltered you both. Stolen glances and polite smiles when caught, stopping here and there to take pictures of the architecture and culture. He wouldn’t tell you, but a good portion were candids of you. You look so pretty that he could not avoid capturing the only remnants of you he could keep. 
Both try small talk, history pointers whenever reaching old buildings – most consisted of luring him away from hustlers. You’d laugh after every successful attempt and reward yourself with street snacks that he’d find too salty or too sweet, still delicious enough to risk getting scolded by his physician if it meant enjoying the wonders of life.
The day might have ended with shy conversations and laughs but both could testify that comfort is what surrounded you most. On his end he felt safe and secure, comfortable enough to laugh at anything you said because in whatever way he looked at it, your presence forced glee onto him. Warmth and comfort is what you would best describe it as and that’s what you have learnt care feels like.
Your grandmother began going easy on you after the accident and outing. You felt like a teenager visiting your grandparents again with how little she left for you to do and how she forced you to go out more often. Encouraging you to enjoy your summer as well while showing Jaehyun around.
Jaehyun is sure this was her way to make both of you appreciate the limited shared time. He’s thankful enough for it but bitter towards himself for losing some weeks at the start.
You began showing him around other towns. On times you went grocery shopping and he’d beat you to paying for it (his form of appreciation), he’d throw in a peach or two. His favorite, you figured. 
At the neighboring market, he’d buy fridge magnets, five for the price of a large one. All which represented his favorite snacks he’s consumed during these days. You still remember teasing him for buying a mini replica magnet of a beer bottle. Later at home while rocking on a chair he showed you a layout of how he’d arrange them on his fridge. In the meantime, you helped him decorate the door to his room, enjoying the air the fan blew at both.
When it rained, Ollie forced both to dance under the cold drops. Enjoy life as you should, he justified. At night, he’d dragged you both to the night market. Showing Jaehyun his favorite drinks and laugh when you scold him for drinking like an old man with kidney issues. He would joke about you and Jaehyun being his parents and would even grab your hands to skip in between both when it was so easy for him to drag you down. Damn him and his tall genes.
He’d drag the joke far enough to reach home where your grandparents never missed the opportunity to throw in a “Take your brat with you.” whenever Ollie was available and you were to show Jaehyun around. Neither of you minded, Ollie was silent enough to let you two bask in each other’s presence and playful enough for you two to feel at ease and content. 
In another universe, this would reign true and not a fragment of a life you’re all creating that was never to bloom.
After three months the festivities had reached your village and vendors from all around the country settled by the plaza. Intrigued at first and fascinated by what they sold, poor Jaehyun fell victim to one of the home goods sellers. Spending a large amount buying your grandmother some pots, pans, a set of dishes, and stools as a token of appreciation. He went overboard but was happy to help, blinded by the cheap prices. Jaehyun should’ve known something was off, he knows you would have talked him out of it but you had been arguing with another vendor that they took advantage of the painfully obvious foreigner in the meantime.
When arriving home and seeing he had been robbed, you got ready to argue and force them to give him his money back. He protested despite being defeated and sad he was swindled. He convinced you but not your grandparents and Ollie. The three had taken matters into their own hands while you two fetched salt blocks to replace in the pen. By the time you got back, Ollie’s hair was far more ruffled than usual and his face red while your grandfather laughed, taking a sip of his beer, clanking it with your grandmother’s. On the kitchen bar, Jaehyun’s money was laid out. Every single cent and interest returned to him, money he used to invite all to dinner and dessert with a gift of their choice.
Ollie wore his tonight. Gleefully trotting through the threshold of the gate, careful to not scuff the boots Jaehyun gladly bought while singing to gain attention. Jaehyun laid on bed, scribbling his thoughts on his days, one-liners here and there and far more of the noises you’ve made. In addition the lyrics to the song Ollie sang before your grandmother told him to stop before he ate a fly.
Fireworks had been going off all day and neighbor’s music loudened with their gates open. This wasn’t new but it seemed to be far more intense today out of all days. “Why aren’t you ready? You’re not going to the fair?” Ollie questions, out of breath and frantic to see your grandparents sitting on their chairs enjoying today’s weather with a cup of soda in one hand and pastries in the other. 
Talks about a fair had not gone in deaf ears throughout the past three weeks but Jaehyun paid it no mind when he saw that no one else seemed concerned – besides Ollie. It seemed to be a big thing when he noticed more carps, games, and rides fully covering the plaza.
“Don’t think we will be going, Ol. Their knees hurt.” Your voice manifests itself, forcing Jaehyun to sit up and put away his journal. You had been doing some chores outside his room. Hanging laundry and watering the plants, the product of everything he’s written and attempted to draw today.
He follows outside, Ollie greets him, a mischievous smile on his lips forming an idea. “Why not? I’ll drive if you want! Do it for Jaehyun, he’s never going to experience this again.”
Ollie’s childish intuition strikes again, this time in the form of a gash against both of your chests. 
You both knew it was true but reality is what Jaehyun wanted to escape and you had made sure to enable him. It just so happens that you have fallen victim to it as well.
No matter, he said he wanted to stay months so it should still be far along in the future. You think so… you implore.
Perceptive is a word to describe your grandparents. Despite their ache they figure it is not as big as the one brewing in the depths of your conscious and heart. As best as they can, they agree with the younglin and head inside to get ready.
Ollie is ecstatic, he’s always been a fan of these things but now that he was of age, he could enjoy it more with a drink or two. Not to mention things like these are grounds for finding partners and like any town boy who hasn’t found one, he’s looking forward to it. That’s what he tells you and Jaehyun at least but he knows he’ll spend his night looking after your grandparents, far more giddy about you two together.
He had been smart enough to put cinder blocks early in the morning in a parking spot front and center from the fair, forcing Jaehyun out of the car to move and put them behind the car once he parked so no one would block them. Perfect was his plan that once everyone got out of the car, his friends that occupied a bench scattered like roaches to give their seat to your grandparents. Both elders find it comical seeing right through Ollie. 
Arriving just in time for the parade, all queen candidates drove around in their elaborately decorated transportation. Colors flying around similar to their presentation favors, many which ended up hitting both Jaehyun and Ollie in the head. The older of the two made sure to take pictures of it while Ollie complained, claiming he was glad he didn’t vote for whoever hit him. The new reigning queen didn’t appear until the end. It was far more of a social economic competition. Whoever paid more won therefore it wasn’t surprising when a queen from years prior won again.
“You should’ve signed up, you would’ve won, Y/n.” Ollie elbows you, received with an eye roll. “Right, Jaehyun?” That devious brat, always finding a way to make you miserable. You try not to turn to Jaehyun, yet his gaze is so intense that it forces you to do so slowly. His face, decorated with that usually wide smile that emphasized his dimples, eyes squinting in glee when yours finally meet his. Candidness and benevolence lacing his voice.
“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.” 
That was enough footing for Ollie to shoo both of you away, promising to take care of your grandparents while you had fun. Your attempts at protest are futile, your grandparents helping Ollie in his mission. Buying the three something to eat in the process before parting ways, promising it’ll be fast.
It’s not fast, it’s a brisk walk that both you and Jaehyun enjoy. Struggling to not lose each other within the masses going opposite or in the same direction. He jokes about feeling like a meerkat in a sea of gazelles, you laugh but he’s sure you don’t find it funny. At least he’s glad you humor him.
You entertain him through food. Buying tornado potatoes, plain and simple. He mentions having eaten these when he lived in Connecticut. You ask him about the state and what it’s like, you’re not too thrilled nor believe him when he says it’s boring. As an attempt to remove the connection, you drizzle hot sauce on one half of the potatoes. Scared but willing to try it, Jaehyun lets you feed him the first broken off bit. It’s enjoyable at first, soon his face blends with the lights behind him. Red and bright as he begins to cough. Now he will only think of this when it comes to the snack.
You both laugh at it, as an apology you buy him a drink. A piña colada for him and a michelada for you, it should work enough to ease both of your bashfulness. He couldn’t eat anything from the drizzled side, leaving those for you whilst he munched on the dry. Giving you sips here and there from his drink to cool down the fire in your mouth. He teases you for choosing a spicy drink when you’re eating far more spice, receiving him with an eye roll and “You don’t know what life is about.”
Finishing that, he dragged you to a game. You’d like to think he found it far more odd because of the mini stripper animatronics in the center of all the glass bottles but he reassures you the life-size gremlin doll pissing on people was more alluring – and disturbing. It didn’t stop him from attempting to win a decrepit pale Winnie the Pooh bear.
He had spent a good amount of time trying for it, towards the end he required your help. You had been nagging him throughout the entire game to not spend more money on the game, that it was most likely rigged but when it was your turn and managed to burst all bottles, then it became a skill issue. 
Jaehyun mopped about it, you figured the bear would bring him comfort. He held it for seconds to soon return it with a bright smile. You try rejecting it, he had been fighting hard for it so it was confusing why he didn’t want it. You thought it had to do with the principle of the winner takes it all; it wasn’t the case. 
He confessed he had wanted to get it for you and only felt bummed that he wasn’t able to but that you should keep it irregardless as a token of his appreciation and care for you, to give your Garfield some company. The moment would’ve been sweet if the booth attendant didn’t make that stupid doll spritz it’s faux piss your way, forcing you to flee while cursing him out with laughs in between.
That was the beginning of your journey through halls and carps, stepping out here and there to get on children’s rides that warrant glares from parents. Jaehyun joked about dragging Ollie so he could ride the caterpillar rollercoaster with him and have you take pictures of a father with his kid. Jaehyun is now playing along with the fantasy Ollie has created. You don’t know whether to laugh or let the ache in your heart manifest.
You end at the ferris wheel only a few feet away. In the process of calming each other’s laughter, the noises of people and music filled the silence. Comforting as the day you met, walking through the market and buying produce for that day’s meal. It makes Jaehyun think about how far you two have gone. How one little incident with a cactus has led to having the time of your lives nearing the highest point of the ride.
You’ve felt the warmth and softness of his touch. Felt his care and appreciation through every little act yet you yearn and crave for more from him. Your body and soul know there is more both can offer, although frightened that you’ve misinterpreted his lingering gazes and gestures.
“When I was younger my mom had decided that we would spend every summer with my grandparents and aunt. I hadn’t been here since I was five for her grandpa’s funeral so it meant nothing the first few weeks. The first year, even.”
Jaehyun turns, intrigued. “Then when my mom would make the long distance calls and send letters, my grandpa would joke around how I didn’t want to visit them at all – that I hated it here, similar to how he does with you. I didn’t hate it, I think I just wasn’t familiar with the lifestyle in comparison to back home where I don’t have to worry about if there’s hot running water.”
His hand inches closer to you. “In attempts to prove him wrong, I spent my time here helping him with the animals, going grocery shopping with him and my cousins and it drew me closer to this. After the second summer, we spent Christmas here too and the weather killed me but they seemed so happy that I joined.” 
Your laugh comforts him. He thinks about the times he’s attempted to help and failed your grandparents, it only dawns upon him that things take time and he shouldn’t dwell on them too much.
“Then in my last summer of college, I had taken an internship that promised a job right out of college– obviously it was a lie, I’m here.” You laugh bitterly. “I missed time with my family and my grandma ended up in the hospital. I felt so guilty the remainder of the year, even during winter break. I felt like it was my fault, that my absence was the small piece of the puzzle that could ruin it all.”
Jaehyun felt and heard the remorse in your voice, he felt the need to find a way to ease it with no avail, feeling as inutile as when the ram tackled you. It’s imprinted in his brain that no matter what, it will weigh on his shoulders that he’s not able to help no matter how much he tries.
“And I think the universe is funny and cruel enough that when the internship dropped me and said all vacancies were occupied, my aunt was the one to fall ill next. Forcing her back home with her own family. It was its way to make it up to me, as horrible as it sounds.”
You share a sigh, he takes your hand in his, reassuringly. You don't want comfort words, he knows that, he knows this is enough for you. “I think what I first felt when visiting is what you feel now with the exception that you actually have so much to do out there…” Jaehyun’s actions halt, lifting his head to look at your sorrow filled eyes.
He shakes his head, trying to convince himself and you. He clings to the delusion everyone helped create in hopes to be good hosts. He still has time, Jaehyun has time, he wants to believe it so please don’t shatter his joy so quickly, please!
“It’s okay, Jaehyun. You have to publish your book, we’ll always be here for you as they’ve been for me.” He’s not too sure how true that is. Life is never consistent nor forgiving, he’s learnt that in harsh ways. People’s care is conditional and based on time and familiarity, he’s been at the end of that stick.
Your hand takes purchase on his cheek, consoling him for what you have just said. You didn’t intend to cause this but you have to prepare yourself for what you’ve known all along. “I don’t think I want to go back and risk anything.” He mutters, eyes softening the longer he looks at you, the ride feels endless.
“You must… All there is for you here is inspiration.” They’re meant to comfort him but it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’ll be fine when he leaves. Jaehyun’s lips part ready to speak, words muted by the fireworks going off. Midnight has hit, it’s a brand new day and it’s received with pyrokinetic colors that aim to diffuse the pain he feels.
They illuminate your face, a smile forming in awe of how pretty they look. Not as pretty as you, Jaehyun is sure of that the longer he stares with the same smile on his face you adore. “I’ve found the life I needed all along.” His touch on your cheek brings you back to him, dumbfounded with what he meant. Inquiries answered upon feeling his lips softly land on yours.
Hands softly cradle your face, eyelashes tickling your cheek as you get a taste of him. It’s so soft and tender that you want to be here for the rest of the night, drowning the noises around you. If you’ve felt heaven before, it doesn’t compare to being with him like you are now. 
The crowded path didn’t feel claustrophobic, like it was just you two in the sea of booths, fluorescent lights and fireworks. The music drowned, his grasp on you doing its best to keep you with him for whatever time is left for you two.
He hadn’t noticed at what point you both had gone back until Ollie stepped in between you two. “So? Did you like it?” The giddy young boy questions, a bottle of beer in his hand, compliments from his cousin – your grandparents with their own as well, watching. Jaehyun nods, glancing at you. “More than anything.” He smiles widely, hypnotizing dimples present. 
Ollie giggles, a chant as he jumps near your grandparents telling them something that neither of you manage to hear, distracted by the shocking ice-cold bottle shoved into your hands. Your grandfather had been talking to your grandmother, both laughing about judgments thrown at people around them. Mean, yes, but it’s not often that they bond about things anymore.
The elder’s leg had been bouncing as they talked, cackling in the process of drowning whatever was left in the bottle. Jaehyun took notice of this, turning to the group playing up on stage a few feet away. People around were dancing, some seemed to enjoy themselves, others not too much – the only thing that mattered was the ambient and showing face. 
Jaehyun approaches your grandpa, asking if he was having a good time. The older of the two nodded, responding by showing the new bottle Ollie handed him. You scold both of them to not drink too much but they shush you. “It’s a party, Y/n. Liven up.” Ollie laughs, alcohol having gotten into his stream, demonstrated on how clumsily he clinks his bottle with yours and everyone else's. “Come on, let’s dance instead.” Pulling you in for a quick little shuffle. He’s not a great dancer, he knows it. He also knows his joy brings joy to your grandparents and you’ll do anything for them to maintain it.
You entertain Ollie, dancing despite him having already stepped on you multiple times. Apologizing with whines and puppy eyes that make you laugh. You push him off after a while, helping your grandfather up so he could dance with you. He’s overjoyed, finally having the opportunity to do what he loves so much, a pity your grandmother is the opposite. She’s content enough with just watching.
Jaehyun smiles, laughing in glee at how the ambient fuels his emotions. His own body swaying ever so slightly, brain trying to formulate how to dance to music he’s never heard. He thinks he gets it, it doesn’t seem too hard but he could be proven wrong and become Ollie’s mirror.
Your grandmother, ever so insightful, watches with a glint of content with how well he has adapted to the culture. Although, far more interested in the way his eyes don’t leave you. His ears are red, brighter than the light illuminating the stage and the municipal office. Jaehyun may try to hide how he feels, you may try, but she’s older and wiser. She’ll always know when love is around.
“Go ask her for a dance.” She elbows him to catch his attention, Jaehyun had been holding your grandfather’s seat. The mention alone caused his ears to brighten, crimson migrating to his face. He tries not to smile, it so happens to be that his muscles are treacherous and they emphasize the lines of his smile, deepening those dimples you love. 
Jaehyun shakes his head. Convince her that it’s okay, that he would rather watch, something she won’t allow. “Don’t coward away. When’s the next time you’ll get the chance?” Jaehyun ignores the heavy meaning of her words, he prefers to ignore the reality that slowly creeps in. Regardless, he nods, taking in the other point of view. He thanks her with a smile, standing up to walk towards you. Sacks of nervousness weighing him down, making his hands sweat.
“Mind if I take her from you?” Jaehyun clears his throat, head tilting, pleading. The older man cackles, pure and utter joy that Jaehyun has made a move. Frantically he nods, agreeing by pushing you towards the brunette who seems just as ecstatic as your grandfather. Given persimmon, Jaehyun takes your hand in his. Awkwardly figuring out how else he should position himself.
You watch amusedly, hiding your smile by pressing your lips together as if your cheeks and eyes were not a dead giveaway. “What makes you think I wanted to dance with you?” You tease, correcting where his hands and feet should go. The smile you try hard to hide slowly creeps in. Jaehyun doesn’t mind exposing his own, giggling when you begin to lead. “What’s this then?” He plays along, moving his feet and knees according to what he had examined. Raising your shoulders in a shrug, you don’t hold back your smile, a giggle following. “A lesson.” 
The dance doesn’t go smoothly, you have to teach him between laughs, both yours and his with your family’s in the background but he manages. Even if you all think his dancing is horrible, as bad as Ollie’s, the younger one takes the opportunity to capture you two dancing with Jaehyun’s camera. If there’s something to remember, it is this night and the love that has finally come into fruition.
The flash blinds you, stopping you two from dancing and even though Ollie whines for you two to continue, you both claim your feet ache. It’s not a lie on your end but the coyness from your family seeing you with a potential partner is a bigger deal.
It’s past two in the morning, obvious in the way your grandparents hide their yawns from your view, hoping to not ruin your night further. “Want to go home?” You walk towards them, a hand on your hip and genuine concern on your face. They admit they are tired but don’t want to go home no matter how much you insist. Ollie offers to drive them home while you and Jaehyun stay back longer but you’ve been away from them this entire night that you cannot fathom the idea any longer.
Ollie and your grandparents can try to convince you with the same story about Jaehyun’s limited time but that wasn’t going to work now. No, you stick to your guns and manage to get them in the car. Ollie had drank far more than all of you so he wasn’t apt to drive, instead Jaehyun volunteered, something that had excited your grandfather the most.
After removing the cinder blocks and putting them back in the trunk, Ollie walks towards your window, bidding everyone goodnight. You nag him, worried that he was drinking too much. He receives you with an “Okay, mom!”, the same phrase he’s been throwing around ever since Jaehyun had reached a month’s stay. It managed to get a laugh out of your grandparents, even from you and Jaehyun but it didn’t change that you still lightly swat his hand. “I’m serious, Ollie. Don’t drink anymore, stay back a bit but not too late, Okay?” 
The worry in your eyes makes him relent, nodding before kissing your cheek goodnight and shaking Jaehyun’s hand. The interaction forced a smile on his face, every single aspect of your tenderness making him melt more.
As the moon is his witness, Jaehyun has fallen in love with this village and you. Gracious the stars are that once you manage to get your grandparents in bed and meet Jaehyun in the kitchen, the two of you quietly make your way outside with nothing but moonlight to illuminate you.
“Want some coffee?” You ask, fingers familiarizing themselves with the texture of those yellow walls. “Do you not want to sleep?” He laughs, taking those same fingers to familiarize with the tenderness of his lips. The action makes your breath hitch. 
“Perhaps…”
His eyes meet yours, inching closer to capture your lips in another tender kiss. His hands find purchase on your waist, your arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, his tongue managing to slip in your mouth to waltz with your own. The soft muscle forces a delighted sigh, one that he swallows graciously.
When neither can hold it for much longer, you separate, smiling like two fools. “So no coffee, then?” You laugh, one he reciprocates with a nod. “Too bitter, not as sweet as you.” The flirtatious remark is received with a laugh.
“You’re so cheesy.” You claim. “It’s worth it if it makes you laugh – it’s what I like to hear everyday.”
Jaehyun’s expression is serious, the adoration in his eyes letting you know how he feels. He may not pin a word to it but you can see his yearning and longing. You try to be in the same cloud he is in, to ignore the dooming reality but you can’t. You appreciate his affection and you reciprocate it but you also don’t want to become delusional.
“Jaehyun…” Your head drops, avoiding his look. He thinks he’s done something wrong and it aches horribly. “Yeah?” He squeaks meekly, head moving in hopes to see your eyes, to understand how the atmosphere became so somber. “How serious are you about this? You know how things are an–” 
“Don’t… Please don’t bring that up.” He begs, eyes shutting, no longer in need to understand what you meant. “You can’t act like you don’t have a life outside of here. You may stay all you want but eventually you will go back – there’s more to life than this for you.” Your head lifts, vulnerability not as heavy as his.
He tries to drown out your words, this night has gone too well for things to fall off already. He doesn’t want it to be bittersweet. Sure he can stay all he wants until it’s time to publish his book but he will come back so why are you being so cruel to him?
“Nothing compares to this, Y/n.” He holds your hands, hoping his warmth lets you know how much you’re hurting him but also how much he loves you. You shake your head, a small smile of unbelievability. “You’ve been here for three months, that’s still fine and dandy. It’s not like truly living here.” 
His eyebrows furrow, refusing to listen. “But you still love it here. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.” His voice quivers, frightened that this is your way of ripping his heart out.
You sigh, squeezing his hands. “I do, I love it but I also think that I’ve been looking at this place through the same glasses you’re looking through. What I’m getting at is that, in the long run you’ll get bored, everyone I know has and they’ve left… Who knows, maybe even Ollie will leave and it’ll leave me here because no matter how hard I try to make a life out there, it doesn’t love me back.”
Jaehyun was perplexed, eyes scanning your face. He knows you’re projecting, that you don’t want to get attached despite already having done so, he hopes you could see inside him to understand that he doesn’t ever want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you.
His hands cradle your face, kissing your eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips for reassurance. “I can always come back. After publishing whatever I have in hand, I will always come back. You are the life that I needed all along, Y/n.” His whisper is heavy and sincere, the glimmer in both your eyes, evidence to what both feel.
Words don’t describe what you two feel, no matter how heavy they hang on your tongues. No, it’s best that you share it in another tender kiss that the stars and moon witness. Both end the conversation, convinced that the love you two port is stronger than the universe’s will.
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Quick glances and kisses are stolen for the following weeks, everyone knows what both feel but it’s more exciting if you pretend as if this love is forbidden despite the encouragement and approval of your family. Ollie teases you two about the brewing romance, pretending to act like he didn’t say anything regarding it when you correct him that nothing is happening. It’s like a game for all of you, one that you all indulge in for the sake of excitement.
You had all agreed upon visiting a thermal spring this morning, the drive was somewhat long and it was best to arrive before other people did. Ollie was the most excited about it, he had begged his family to let him go for days until they agreed. It just so happens to be that the universe doesn’t often like to see him happy; you don’t appreciate that.
Ollie had arrived with a glum look on his face, saddened eyes when he sat in his usual seat next to the chimney. Jaehyun approached him with a cup of hot chocolate and a pat to his head. Your grandma didn’t take long to question the reason behind his state but he only sighed.
“They moved the pension collection to today. The offices will be closed until next month for remodeling so you two have to go in before the line gets long.” His lip juts out, looking at everyone with puppy eyes. 
You ruffle his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We can go tomorrow, Ollie. Don’t worry…” You mimic his pout, his head rests on your hip, pressure tickling your hip bone. “No… Dad is taking me with him out of town for a few weeks to help with the ranch that hired him.” He doesn’t dare look at anyone. It’s not the first time he was taken to different places in the country but when they came back his dad usually kept Ollie locked in for a while until he became unbearable to keep in. It’s as if he relishes in your joint misery.
Jaehyun throws you a look, looking for ways to solve this crisis. He knows you don’t like the news, he hates them too. He’s grown so fond of Ollie that knowing he’s the first to go is causing a small turmoil in his chest. Sure, he may be back and Jaehyun will still be here but one never knows how things may turn out. 
“What if you and Jaehyun go? I have to take my grandparents for their pension so you two enjoy.” Ollie wishes things were that easy but his childish intuition fears that time is coming short and if you don’t spend more time with Jaehyun, he’ll feel guilty for whatever ending comes.
Ollie shakes his head, standing up. “No, it’s fine. You and him go. I’m going to take my dad anyway so I can take them too.” He attempts to smile even if he can’t. It dawns upon you that missing the trip isn’t his concern but not seeing any of you for God knows how long is what’s killing him. 
You try to deny, shake your head in protest. Jaehyun does so as well, it’s not that he doesn’t want time alone with you but knowing this is his last day with Ollie for a while is killing him. Your grandparents hadn’t said anything up until this point. They weren’t fond of swimming, they never did.
“Ollie is right, you two go.” Your grandmother spoke, standing to grab her purse. “I can’t leave you two, what if you need help?” You attempt and they protest, your grandfather jumping in by throwing in Jaehyun’s limited time. It seems they’re all far more in tune with reality than you two.
You don’t know how or when but they managed to convince you and Jaehyun to go. Both attempted to protest and cancel the trip all together but here you were, in your grandfather’s old and chipped red ford. The seats torn apart, a blanket hiding away its imperfections. The red leather of the dashboard hot under Jaehyun’s touch, its form of showing that you two being left alone was real.
That now you didn’t have to talk through a window in the bathroom to spend some alone time. You didn’t have to climb on the sink and hit your head on the roof just to see his face through the mangled chicken wire and be received by concrete flakes on your lips and eyelashes whenever you attempt to kiss through it. No, here you were able to hold hands and kiss without fear of being caught (even if it didn’t matter – everyone knew).
The roads were messy and bumpy, dirt flew all around which forced you to keep the windows rolled-up despite the sun’s rays being hotter than the actual weather. Worse off is that once he came out of the truck, a gust of cold breeze rained upon him. Showing him everything he had missed while struggling with heat and keeping dust out of your airways. 
It was a reward but also mockery, to him at least because you remained unphased, rejoicing on how lonely it was. “Reckon everyone is getting their pension, too?” You ask, hands on your hips, ripping some overgrown grass by your feet to make sure no venomous critters are around.
Jaehyun shrugs, letting his focus remain on his surroundings. It was amazing for him to see how deserted and destroyed this place was. Overgrown yellowing grass that stray cattle eat, ruins of houses from colonial towns signaling the fleeing of whoever had inhabited them before; your grandfather had later explained that the location was a town destroyed in the process of gaining independence.
What was prettier to him was the body of water he was here for. Multiple trees around, so green and alive in comparison to the remaining vegetation. The water is so clear and warm that he could see the steam rise the closer he got.
“Like it?” You question, to his side with towels on your shoulders. Jaehyun’s head whips, a smile on his face upon reaching for your hand, “It’s beautiful.” His fingers interlace with yours, camera in hand positioning it an arms length away when he takes the initiative to lean down and kiss you, capturing it all on film.
You shove him playfully, rushing to a dry rock where you can leave your possessions. He chases after you, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Your instinct to look away is something he does not miss and it causes a blush to creep up on his face.
He takes in the temperature of the water with his feet. Jumping back when he realizes it’s hotter than what he’s experiencing right now. “It’s not that bad.” You call out, pulling down on the bottoms of your dress swimsuit. Your smile softly falters when he doesn’t respond, rather his attention is set on how pretty you look.
The trees sway, leaving empty slots for the sunrays to seep through, illuminating you. Seemingly purposely done, to put you on a pedestal for him to look at with nothing else but admiration. That blush he had earlier rose again, one he’ll pretend is due to the water’s temperature.
“What are you looking at?” You tease, smile back on. Jaehyun approaches you with a shrug, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His fingers thread over the fabric of the straps, such a pretty lace decorated with satin red ribbon forming a bow at the front. “You.” He smiles, warm fingers touching your arms in hopes to feel closer than he already is in all senses. You don’t respond but he’s aware that the look you give him is fond.
Your hands mimic his, finding their way to his shirt and helping him undo the last few buttons, pushing off the linen to free his flesh and let it be kissed by the breeze – something you can only wish for. Once off you toss it to the pile of clothes and towels, cocking your head for him to follow you into the water. It’s glistening and steaming, soothing once his feet acclimate.
Silent sounds escape both, little by little submerging yourselves – your hands not letting go in any instance. “My mom and aunt loved to come here. They’re hypochondriacs – at least my mom is– always claiming a trip here was healing, holistic. Forcing my grandparents to put their feet in at least so the warmth would take away any aches.” Jaehyun could see how your free hand rubbed at your knees, mimicking their action. 
“Pretty sure they take from my grandma but my grandpa was more of a people pleaser so he’d tell them he felt much better just so they wouldn’t feel bad. I don’t really see how this can take away all your aches. I get that it can help temporarily but not permanently.” Your shrug and words may tell him so but Jaehyun can tell that your vigorous rubbing at your own joints was a form of subconsciously believing them.
“Maybe… It seems like a mutual interaction of comfort and understanding. Your mom and aunt try their best for their parents to feel better about their bodies wearing down and in turn they receive praise and appreciation from them.” 
Your hand stops its action, looking up at him with a hum. “I guess so.” You mutter, letting go of him to float on your back. “The writer in you just had to make it so philosophical.” he can hear the smile on your lips, your feet playfully kicking some water onto him to which he laughs, responding by splashing you too. Calling a truce when he was winning this battle.
As a way to comfort, he pulls you in for a hug. Your back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder and holding onto a railing to not float away far deeper. If it was for Jaehyun, he’d love to stay like this until it was time to go. For once in this entire trip you two have been truly left alone. No more sneaking kisses and late night talks through the bathroom window. It was just you and him an hour away from civilization with only the cattle as witness to the love you two didn’t speak about but embraced. 
There is nothing more Jaehyun wants than to have more time with you. He wonders if things would have been different if he had fallen for you much earlier or if you had. He’s not fully sure how much you love him, he knows you’re stuck on him leaving sometime in the future which is what hinders this from going forward but he truly wishes you could see that he has no intent on leaving soon or for too long. 
What if he had helped you clean the pen earlier? That would have meant spending more time with you and more outings with your family, surely. On the other hand, what if he had been useful enough during planting? It’s evident he would have never gotten close to you beside cordiality in the mornings and afternoons for meals and trips to the market. 
Jaehyun cannot think of a world where this trip would result in you two not becoming closer. He can’t fathom not getting to know and falling in love with you.
Sensing his pensiveness, you turn your head, looking up at him with a questioning look that he could only interpret as trying to read his mind. He’s noticed that quirk, the way your head tilts and your lips quiver in a way to mutter a “hm” without voicing it. He makes sure to receive it with a smile, leaning in to peck your lips that surely help you abandon your actions.
“It’s a bummer Ollie didn’t come.” He attempts to distract. “Would have been nice seeing him have some fun before leaving.” There’s more to what he had said. Jaehyun wanted to add ‘before I leave’ into his sentence, it’s hanging on his tongue despite how much his brain and heart attempt to keep him wrapped around his delusion of perpetual happiness.
“I think so too.” your body twists within his arms, facing him. “I was thinking of making his favorite meal for dinner once we get back. His dad always returns him skinnier and paler than how he leaves, I need him to keep his cheeks plump, don’t you think?” Your exclamation forces a chuckle out of him, nodding in response. 
“Help me find a gift for him too, then?”  “Don’t spoil him too much, he’ll be an even bigger pain than he already is.” “Oh come on, don’t be so mean to the kid. Let me, please…” Jesus, if anyone was to hear you two they’d think you’re talking about a child and not a nineteen year old. But that’s what Ollie is to you both. A child you saw as yours or your brother that Jaehyun would spoil while you scold him no matter how much you loved him. You’d reckon Ollie’s presence kept you sane even if he often teased you but his nature was enough to bring entertainment for you and joy for your grandparents. If Jaehyun looks back at it, Ollie reminds him of the young boy he met in that taxi on the way to that village. 
Reluctantly (faking so) you agree, rolling your eyes before pushing him off to swim away from him. He doesn’t stay too behind, chasing you for what feels like forever. Overworking your body for hours in such a hot body of water had rendered exhausting for both to the point that you basically had to drag each other out of the water just to lay on the cool metal ramp, gasping for air acclimation to avoid fainting. Jaehyun was far more concerned with you when he didn’t hear you speaking nor felt you moving, calming when you stick your tongue out at him for his nosiness although all you wanted was to see him smile.
“You complain about Ollie but it seems like the real brat here is you!” He exclaims, gaining momentum to swing his legs onto both sides of you. “Cry about it.” You mutter, a smile on your face; his hair hangs off, fuzzy around his eyes and dripping onto your cheeks. “Or… maybe I should do something to correct it.” His hair tickles your face, sticking to your cheeks the more his lips linger on them, testing the waters.
He relents when your arms wrap around his shoulders, leaving him flush over your body with nothing left but your lips to connect. They’re cold and pillowy, soft against your own just like his hands when they find purchase on your waist, holding you near as if the spring water below you will drag you out of his grasp, the last thing he needs. 
Jaehyun is gentle in the way he holds and kisses you. His hands knead your skin, warming against it the more they roam around to hold you closer. Your fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine that causes him to sigh into the kiss, enough for your tongue to slip through and deepen the kiss. The intensity rose, his hands felt much hotter against your skin the lower they went, scalding when one of them grips your upper thigh –avoiding the bruising from whitey’s assault– helping it raise to rest on his hip.
Tongues mingle amongst each other, the taste of the mango juice he drank earlier still coating it to which you enjoy against your own. The thin film of saliva on both of your lips helps them slot smoothly in a far more pleasant kiss. Jaehyun’s fingers knew how to tease you, tips tickling your inner thigh that forced small groans which begged him for more. 
More, more, more – Jaehyun would have given you everything if it wasn’t for the faint sound of music blaring and tires pushing dirt through Cattle began mooing, warning you of company joining, spoiling whatever comfort you two had.
You scramble to grab the towels, Jaehyun helps you, drying you off with his own and taking the remaining items under his arm to help you towards the truck, staying guard while you change into dry clothes coming in when you knock against the window. He doesn’t bother changing, claiming the air will dry him well enough upon. 
You cross paths with the incoming truck, nodding your heads in acknowledgment before embarking on another long ride. Small talk made here and there, he speaks about how much this road reminds him of Western America: dry vegetation and barely any trees insight but with lively mountains that shield anyone from the sun. You tell him that it seems interesting how he describes that part while detesting Connecticut but he laughs and shrugs. 
It’s not long until you stop at a gas station, the truck nearly empty and he still had to change into some dry clothes. He met you inside, walking through the aisles in search of a snack for whatever was left of the ride. 
Jaehyun doesn’t share your sentiment. He finds himself distracted by a corner of toys, a bright red truck similar to the one you’re transporting through catching his eye. It glimmers under the sun rays that make way through the window panels. Jaehyun thinks it would be a good gift for Ollie, a menial one for now.
Paying for the items and heading outside with you hand in hand, Jaehyun recalls seeing a photobooth by the bathrooms. He pulls you along with no response to your questions, motioning with his head for you to push through the red velvet curtain. The first image is neutral enough, smiling while looking directly at the mirror, the flash comes in and you two hold each other. By the last two flashes it resulted in engraving the image of you two kissing.
You laugh at him for sneaking in a kiss and having it on film, he shrugs you off knowing that it was an image he’d like to see at all times and he’s hopeful you do too. You still needed to wait for at least four minutes for the film strips to develop, leading Jaehyun to slot in more coins claiming he wanted Ollie to have something to remind the young boy of the two. 
Jaehyun truly wanted to say that he hoped Ollie wouldn’t forget that the two loved him. He hoped a flimsy piece of paper was enough of comfort to Ollie as they will be to him.
Pulling out a pocketbook rushedly, Jaehyun manages to scribble his support and appreciation for the young boy. That’s an image of himself alone, handing it to you to scribble something quick before the flash goes off again. The last two flashes are paraded with you two making faces you often made towards him – sticking your tongue out or scrunching your nose, the latter his favorite one.
“Good luck in your journey, you’ve done so well these past months!” “Ollie! Remember to eat all your meals and no buddy-budding with any louse. You’re a good boy!” “Fighting our lovely, Ollie!” Compliments of Jaehyun.  “We love you, Ollie. More than you think.” Now that comes from the bottom of both of your hearts.
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Jaehyun bought a jacket for Ollie once back in the village while grocery shopping at the market for the voyage dinner. For the first time since he arrived you had trusted him to navigate the village on his own. The everyday route was engraved onto his brain, finding you shortly with the jacket in a wrapped box. You wanted to see it but he told you you’d have to wait until Ollie opens it, he didn’t want to re-wrap this himself.
Your grandparents and Ollie didn’t arrive until a few hours later when everything was set up already. Jaehyun arranged the table outside with a fine china that belonged to you, not the one in the cabinet. He had attempted to help you in the kitchen but backed off when he saw your eye twitch the second he mixed a pot on the stove. There he learnt that getting in your way while cooking wasn’t a good idea so he instead went to feed the pen animals and loiter around to write the letter he’d give the young boy with his gifts.
Ollie could have sworn this was a delayed birthday party. Jaehyun had arrived a week after Ollie turned nineteen, missing any form of celebration. Now he was complete, this had to be a form of celebration and not a voyage dinner, it just had to. Otherwise why would he be crying at the dinner table? 
Ollie would like to think his tears represented the impending doom you were all to face one way or another with his absence. Both figuratively and and literally; comically and realistically. 
The hands on his back and shoulders try their best to comfort him, whispers of how this was yet another trip meant to minimize the meaning of this but Ollie knew something was wrong, something none of you did just yet. He smiled widely, tears streaming down his face, laughing in order to control himself but your gentle wiping and hugs made him fall deeper into that feeling. His childish intuition as you all call it.
Jaehyun on the other hand decides to pull out his gifts in hopes it would help but it only made Ollie cry harder. The younger spews his thank you’s, hugging Jaehyun for comfort to which the older one takes, his own heart filling with such an aching pulsation. He ignores it, it doesn’t matter what he’s feeling, he wants Ollie to take a good look and remember him in a bright light.
Ollie wore the jacket all night and took it on his trip – along the letter–, never letting anyone touch it. He left the truck with you and your grandparents, he knew it’d be far more safe with you than with his brothers. 
The dinner didn’t spoil after his crying fit. Your grandmother had playfully scolded him to get a grip while your grandfather helped him with a shot of liquor. It progressed onto serving them all dinner, Jaehyun helping you throughout all steps while your grandpa complained about the long lines for their pension and all the old people as if he wasn’t one of them. Your grandmother only backed him up a few times, rebutting his claims in others just for the sake of arguing which caused laughs to leave everyone. 
It wasn’t anything new, Jaehyun had grown accustomed to their conversations. They may argue right now but other times the tone of their voices sounded harsh when all they were doing was conversing, as peaceful as they knew how. He wonders if this will ever be you two although he’s not sure he could raise his voice at you or vice versa.
Night had fallen faster than any of you would have wanted. Usually Ollie would leave whenever he pleased and no one would bat an eye but in the past hour his father had called nearly ten times and it was bothering your grandparents. You and Jaehyun too but not as much as the elders since they were the ones inside. Your grandmother had been yelling from her bed to tell Ollie his dick of a father was on the line again, in fact by the fifth call no one answered, they just knew. 
So when the tenth call had rung, Ollie who had been helping you put away the left overs answered angrily telling his father to fuck off and that he’d be on the way soon, received with some scolding from him that he didn’t finish spewing from how fast Ollie hung up. It didn’t mean your scolding wasn’t on the way with how piercing your glare was.
Like a kicked sad puppy, Ollie goes to you in hopes his affection would soften the blow. “That’s not how I’ve raised you, Oliver! Your dad may be a deadbeat but you still shouldn’t talk to him like that – at least in our presence!” Your fingers nip his earlobe, a yelp leaving his bitten lips and a grunt to follow. 
“You know my grandparents don’t like when you talk back so don’t do it again when they’re around, okay?” You say, a hand on your hip like a mother scolding her child. That’s essentially how you saw him and how he saw you. 
“So I can talk back in front of you?” A cheeky smile received with a soft pinch to his ear. “No!” Your smile betrayed your words. He giggles at the reaction he got out of you, twisting out of your grasp to take you into a hug. 
“I really wish you would just enjoy the present and the time you have with Jaehyun without dwelling on how long or how little he has left here. Enjoy the love he’s giving you and return yours, he needs it too, Y/n. For what is left...” 
He sighs, holding you in a firmer grasp. Words don’t quite describe what you want to answer with but you knew he was right despite your initial hostility. 
You kiss his cheek, nodding as a response. He mimics your actions before waving and heading over to your grandparents to bid his goodbyes before leaving through the middle room. 
Jaehyun doesn’t know why he disappeared after dessert. Perhaps he didn’t want to face Ollie when he left and had to say goodbye, he wasn’t good with those. So here he was, on the roof next to the water tank, filling it up as an excuse to why he was so detached from everyone else. It didn’t matter though, Ollie had found him immediately that when Jaehyun heard the clanking of boots he gifted the boy against the rusted ladder, he felt dread.
He pretended to be people watching, seeing how a guy on the right side cleaned his car (it is  meant to rain tomorrow or overnight). In the front, a woman bathes her dogs within the vicinity of her patio, the dog shaking and getting the water all over her. On the dirt filled path, children rode their bicycles, going around any ditches and potholes that would make them fall.
Ollie joins him, standing besides, focusing far more on how the sun was setting. He allows Jaehyun to speak first but frowns when he doesn’t; the faint sound of the phone ringing again makes him shut his eyes.
“Thank you for the gifts, you’ve done far more for me than my own dad.” He bitterly chuckles. Jaehyun turns to him, a small grin on his face that falls when the younger one speaks again.
“You’re avoiding me.” “No.” 
His voice wavers, eyes trying to show Ollie he wasn’t. Ollie chuckles again, shaking his head. 
“I get it, don’t worry. I don’t want to say bye either.”  “I don’t want to say bye.”
Ollie nods, looking at the sights Jaehyun had looked upon. The car was clean despite the sprinkling, a child had missed a bump and fell, and the dog was laying back on dirt.
“Jaehyun, it does mean a lot to me what you’ve done these months. You kind of suck with labor and all but you’ve been of great help.” He laughs, hoping his teasing jab will ease the tension. Jaehyun rolls his eyes, hitting the back of his head softly with a silent laugh. “I’m serious though, you’ve been of great help to Y/n, it’s not easy dealing with the house work and being a caretaker. I think you’ve helped liven her up more. I’m glad you’re able to think about your present with her. I hope it doesn’t change, you make her happy and we like seeing her this way.” Ollie sighs looking at his watch, the sun has set. 
“I hope you’re still here by the time I come back home–” He laughs, cutting himself off. “It’s not even my home.” 
“I’ve never felt more at home than here, I understand.”
Ollie smiles at his claims, he nods with a final sigh. Before going down he gives Jaehyun a final hug and a tight squeeze. The older man mimics his actions to demonstrate his own affection.
Midway down the ladder, Ollie stops and Jaehyun tilts his head. “By the way, this came after you left earlier today.” He pulls out a wrinkled envelope from his back pocket. Immediately recognizing the ivory color and red wax seal, all Jaehyun knows is that he won’t read it any time soon.
“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”
Things didn’t go back to normal after Ollie’s departure, no matter how hard everyone pretended that this hadn’t created a rupture into the atmosphere – a breach to the eco. It goes to say that Ollie helped things feel easy and fun, he was the joy you all needed and now he was gone. Things felt mundane again and to Jaehyun this wasn’t a foreign feeling but one he did not want to have here.
A week and a half without him already feels like an eternity. You and Jaehyun wonder if this is what parents feel when their children finally part ways. 
On the brightside, his conversation with you helped you ease into what you felt for Jaehyun. Yes, you still sneaked kisses and affectionate touches here and there out of respect for your grandparents but it was so obvious what you two had that the elders didn’t tease you anymore for the glances and blush.
Mail day has arrived and Jaehyun once again has received a letter, one he thinks about throwing onto the pile of drafts he’s written and discarded. The letter Ollie handed him before he left tucked in between those. 
He thanks the mailman, putting down the rake he used to pick up fallen leaves. Your grandfather had taught him to put them in a pile to later be burned. He contemplates throwing the letter in, watching the red wax seal spread as it melts. He can't, though, the bold red letters screaming “URGENT!” make themselves present to him. 
Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head wondering what it was now as he opens the envelope. Simple greetings, some scolding and questioning, and a plane ticket. What? That was enough for Jaehyun to ignore his nonchalant attitude and let panic take over him. He took the effort to read over the letter closely without missing a detail. 
Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!
‘Dear Jaehyun,
No, scratch that. What the hell is wrong with you? We haven’t heard back from you since that call and you’re not answering the one letter we sent you. We figure and understand you’re having a great time but it does not mean you’re meant to forget your responsibilities back home. Remember how you’re supposed to send drafts? Right, you haven’t done that and given the changes made while you’ve been gone it’s best you get to it!
We miss you so don’t regard this letter as totally reproachful. Please be sure to be here and don’t miss your plane. We’ll make sure to send a fax before you make it to the airport. Till then, enjoy your time and give us a call as soon as you can.
Sincerely, Jude.’
Well this has severed his plans and mood. Was it not enough to have one departure?
30 AUG 87, 17:30 time of departure, one way only. Red bold letters mirroring the ones that caught his attention to read the components of the letter. If he had known it was for this, he would’ve thrown it in the pile of leaves and act clueless if he was to ever receive an emergency call.
His aggravation was noticeable to you the second he stepped inside the vicinity of the patio. His face sunken, something it wasn’t before leaving to clean outside. Not to mention it seemed like he was biting the inside of his cheeks, holding in his breath as a form of repression. You watch carefully, pretending to not have noticed him while cutting sugar canes near his room.  
He sees you and he wants to ask something or at least find a way to begin this conversation. He should tell you, no? He should, he knows it but he’s scared and also a coward who waits for you to throw the first stone.
“Something happened?” Jaehyun stops by the step before the kitchen, facing you with a slight shake of head. “Um… does the phone run overseas calls?” It’s your turn to shake your head, firmly unlike him. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”
He bolts out towards Gabby’s with the ticket inside his pocket, crumbled and wrinkled like the letter Ollie handed him. The older woman seemed to have understood the reason for his visit. The second she saw the familiar face, she pulled that phone she loved so much to the counter along with the catalog and timer, dialing the code before handing it to him. Jaehyun was thankful she didn’t drag it out, he needed answers immediately.
One ring, two rings, “Hello?” Good, rapid enough.
Jaehyun grips the phone, a tight hold that makes his subconscious scared that he’ll pop this heirloom. “I don’t want to go back!” Well, that’s a way to start a conversation. 
Hyunjoo laughs, calling Jude over to let him know their golden boy finally contacted them after four months. Jude wasn’t as kind as Hyunjoo, he took the fatherly role seriously and began berating the younger of the three on why he had gone rogue. 
“What if something had happened to you? Do you not care for what we feel, Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for this idiot I would’ve sent you letters and even gone to pick you up, so don’t ever pull this on us again! On me, again!” One can only imagine how red he was, up to his receding hairline. 
Jaehyun would’ve laughed in the past but now the life he’s built here is soon to crumble and he doesn’t like it. “It doesn’t mean you guys can just force me back! I’ve built something here, I have something going on! I love it here and I don’t want to leave!” He whines, obvious hurt in his wavering voice.
“Yeah, well, whatever you have going on should be finished soon. You know, you only went there for inspiration and to blow some steam off, Yuno. Nothing else, my boy.” If Hyunjoo was there he would pat his cheek reassuringly, unaware of how much Jaehyun hated his little acts of condescension and belittling. 
Jaehyun didn’t want to finish what he had here, he wanted to stay forever. He wanted to stay with you, your grandparents, and Ollie. He wanted to be here by the time Ollie came back to greet him with a big hug, a meal, and a trip to the hot spring he wasn’t able to enjoy before leaving. He wanted to build a life with you. Court you properly, date you, travel with you. Even marry you, he doesn’t care how early this is or how late, he wants you and everyone he’s learnt to love these months in his life. Of course his career had to get in between him and his happiness like always.
Jude sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose.  “Listen, Jaehyun… There’s nothing we can do, have you read the letter we sent you a few weeks back? That explains it all. Believe me when I say that if it was for me, you could stay there for as long as you want and go back whenever the book is published–”
“That’s the plan.” He interrupts, teeth gritting. Jude and Hyunjoo give each other a look, one that would make Jaehyun feel far more defensive if he could see it. “Jaehyun… things have changed within the publishing house. Go read the letter and we’ll see you Monday, yeah?”
Jude waited for an answer that Jaehyun never gave him. He hung up quite forcibly, receiving a glare from the store owner who muttered the amount. He didn’t stay for his change nor cared for her screams telling him to take it. Jaehyun was in an irritable mood that no one could take away from him today.
Things were definitely not fine. That’s as much as you and your grandpa could decree when Jaehyun crossed the patio straight into his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a word. The elder and you removed kernels in front of his window, under the tree for shade. You could hear him mumble incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing the further he read. 
“What bug bit him?” Your grandpa whispers, cocking his head to the open window. You shrug, throwing away the cob into a bucket, fuel for the chimney. “Go ask then.” So persistent and straight to business. “What? No! I’ll wait until he tells me, pa…” But you did want to ask him what was wrong, more than anything. It’s just that your cowardice won’t allow you. The older man rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment while feeding the chickens with fallen kernels. 
Time and him can only tell what he’s feeling.
‘Dear Jaehyun,
For starters, we miss you dearly. At least I do but find it in your heart to believe Hyunjoo does so as well. We’ve respected your wishes on not contacting you, even through letters but it’s been over three months and you have yet to let us know how you are doing. Do you not care for mine and your family’s well being? I care for yours, I’ve been restless all these months wondering how you are doing. It’s far too irresponsible to not even contact your own family, Jaehyun.
Is the book in the works? How are the drafts? You know we needed drafts mailed throughout your stay, young man. How is the host treating you? I figure well enough if you haven’t contacted us yet. If not then I’ll see myself forced to call the national guard if I don’t hear from you soon!
Regardless, some updates on how things are going on our end. We’ve been able to fake some notices here and there to the publishing house about yours and the drafts whereabouts. If you must know, if you haven’t figured it out already – which is possible, being in such an isolated village… – Mark is in the process of publishing his next book. His last ones have been a great success and been able to knock some of yours from bestsellers therefore things are becoming harsh around here.
The publishing house wants you back immediately and wants your book ready. Hyunjoo has managed to give you more time before it’s edited and the final print is chosen but the new investors are pushing the house and they are desperate for a contender against Mark’s book. So please, cut your time short and don’t miss your plane! I’ll make sure to send the ticket soon when I’m able to obtain it.
Best regards,  Jude.’
Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think. He now understands multiple jobs are on the line but so is his happiness. Even so if he goes and turns in whatever he has – which isn’t enough for even a first draft – what guarantees all of them that it will be published by the time Mark’s is? They can’t just publish some nonsensical thoughts he’s scribbled down for the sake of beating another child protege author. 
Mark’s work is far different from Jaehyun’s, he’s youthful in the way he writes, his metaphors are far more enthusiastic and fun. He’s great within young audiences and those seeking to remove themselves from melancholia. He’s everything Jaehyun isn’t and in both their brains, they know they can’t compete for something neither are reaching for.
Matter of fact, that’s not his concern right now. His concern is on how to break the news to you and your family. He’s supposed to leave by the end of this week, what are you going to do in such a short notice? What is he going to do in such short notice? Things were finally starting to align, why must bad things always happen to him– you– both.
One thing is for sure, he has to tell you immediately. But first he’s going to go back to Gabby’s and buy whichever pack of beers and some chips, maybe even some bread in case you feel your blood pressure rise (he’ll eat it, most likely). Arriving there and getting the items, he’s grateful the older woman honored the change he had left, even gifted him a chocolate as she sensed that something was off. Jaehyun thanks her and contemplates on saying goodbye but it’s too soon. Instead he nods and waves on his way back.  
He doesn’t have the courage to go past the threshold, opting to sit on the uncomfortable and textured concrete bench by the door of your’s and your grandmother’s bedroom. He hears the loud melodrama of her soap operas and the sewing machine she doesn’t leave alone. Another dress for you, he figures she’s making.
There’s the faint sound of music coming from your grandfather’s car, the one he and Ollie worked on often and that Jaehyun began helping with due to his absence. It pains Jaehyun to know that the elder will once again lose the aid he claims to not want but appreciates wholeheartedly. 
His sigh elicits company, or perhaps the pop from the beer bottle had attracted it so here you were, standing by the metal threshold that separated you and him from inside to outside. Your head tilts, looking at him as if trying to read the grievances on his face. 
“Misery likes company.” 
Your voice makes his head snap, eyes glistening while drowning in the sweetness of your company. He smiles shortly, patting the empty spot to his right, the sun is setting fastly. 
He takes your hand into his, kissing the palm and fingers before pulling you in for an embrace. All of this was scaring you the more and more he remained quiet and it only seems like your brain was already processing the inevitable.
“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”
“My “rival” is putting out a book soon according to them and they want me to send in a draft already for the final print.” His fingers curl at the quotation marks, rolling his eyes at how stupid it all felt. “Ah… well, do you have anything to send then?” He shakes his head, apologies on your face. “We can stay this entire week so you can work on it, how does that sound? Pa doesn’t have to check on the crops any time soon and there isn’t really anywhere else we could go, not anywhere near.” 
There’s so much pep in your voice that it hurts to think about how short the remaining days will feel. He has to tell you and he has to tell you now.
“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”
Jaehyun didn’t mean to say it like this but how else was he meant to? He didn’t want to drag it out longer nor agitate you but he also didn’t want to hurt you and that’s all he can read on your face. Hurt.
Misery does love company.
Your body slumps against the adobe wall, harsh against your backbones. The hand he holds falls limp against his touch and all Jaehyun can do as comfort is kissing it before placing the open bottle in your hand, opening another for himself. 
He hadn’t had the time to burn the pile of leaves and the sun was far more foreign by now. That shade of blue coloring his face, an obvious demonstration of his feelings from the past hour. Yet it’s you who takes the initiative to take out the box of matches from the apron you wear, forgetting that you were cooking dinner just to check up on him.
The flame catches fast, rising as you whisper your grievances into it, taking a sip of your drink. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, he tries to take a hold of your hand but he hesitates, fearful that you won’t want it. Instead he throws both letters onto the fire, helping its consumption and anger. At least now you both have let something go.
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The morning after, both elders made sure to not ask any favors out of him and let him to his own vices. They understood he’s meant to get his work done so they didn’t want to add stress onto him. But this continued onto the third and fourth day of the week and Jaehyun was aching more and more as his time fell short. He felt just as inutile as his first week, if not more than that week. He also felt his heart ache only having meals to spend with you all but even then he began feeling like the foreigner he was.
Conversations with him were as cordial as before but not as cheery. They asked about his book and what he had ready. They asked if his suitcase was prepared and if he was happy to go back home. Your grandpa did his best to joke around but would soon drop it when he felt his voice tremble. He’s always worn his heart in his sleeve and another one he saw as a son will now leave him again.
Your grandmother on the other hand was the most level headed. She made sure Jaehyun was kept on track with his work and even helped clean his room when he begged her not to tire herself. She’s faced much loss and pain, a stranger leaving wasn’t going to knock her down. If anything, she feels for how you will act once he’s gone.
By dinner time you and your grandfather had bolted out of the kitchen, feeding the animals any leftovers and giving them their own meal. That left him and your grandmother in the kitchen. She was in the process of taking some water from the bucket in the chimney, he did it instead. Pouring it into another container where your grandmother would then add cold water for balance.
She thanked him and told him he should go back to work but Jaehyun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, he’s been so for the past three days and it’s corroding his soul. He wants to take away the happy memories, he wants his final days to be fun. He’s begging for you all to not do this to him. He needs contact and affection, he needs it.
“So… you have everything ready?” She tries to converse, passing the soapy sponge over the dirty plates. He nods, rinsing it. “Not excited, I’m guessing.” Jaehyun’s pout is enough of an answer. “Look at it on the brightside. You’ll be able to get it over with and the doors here are always open for you.”
He should know she means it, the problem is that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. How long will it take for the book to be published? How long will promotions last? What if he’s forced to work on something else straight after? Jesus Christ, he’s not even back yet and he’s already stressing about his reality.
“Yeah?”  “Yes.”
Jaehyun smiles at her. 
“Will you take care of Y/n for me?” He asks again, putting away the dishes he’s rinsed. She laughs nodding, “She’s taking care of us, I think she’ll manage well.” Jaehyun laughs as well, feeling foolish. “I don’t think you should worry too much about her, Jaehyun. She’s strong and can handle this. As long as you two keep in contact, I believe it will be fine.” She pats his back, leaving a wet hand print that warms his muscles. 
He contemplates on taking the advice. Your grandmother has said everything he already knows about you but perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings. He’ll need another source for advice and there’s no one better than your grandfather.
Jaehyun excuses himself, rinsing and drying the few dishes left before walking out to help your grandfather on the car. The older man sat pensive while looking around the vehicle, loud music coming out of it to drown any thoughts. 
Hopping on the co-pilot seat, Jaehyun smiles at him, dusting away some stray picked up dust. “It’s looking better now.” He compliments, your grandpa nods, humming with a following hearty laugh. “You’re much better at this than me.” The older one shakes his head, continuing his laughter. “These things take time, you just need to practice more. When you come back I’ll help you with it.” Your grandpa is far more hopeful than the rest of you, that reassures him enough.
“You’ll let me in again?” 
“Yes. You make my kids happy and you’ve been of great help even when you didn’t have to.” His laughter subsided, turning into a smile he was struggling to maintain. “It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He hiccups, waterworks on the way. “We’ll miss you, kid. Especially Y/n…” The mention of your name was enough for him to begin his silent sobs, tears beginning to spill. 
If there is one thing he can count on is your grandfather expressing what you and your grandmother aren’t able to. Jaehyun sniffles himself, comforting with some rubs to the older’s shoulder before hugging him. Now he knows how appreciated and loved he is and for that he is thankful.
Your grandpa attempts to stop crying, laughing in between to seem like everything was fine. That was always his way of trying to control himself. “You’ll come back, right?” Jaehyun nods, smiling at him while wiping away a stray tear. “As soon as possible. I want a life here.” Your grandfather smiles at him, looking straight to where his headlights shine.
“I’m not from here either. I was born and raised in a city an hour or two from here– you’ve been there, that’s where the airport is.” Jaehyun recalls his first day, the bustling and loud city with historical architecture. It was beautiful, surely, but it doesn’t compare to this village and its own beauty.
“I’ve worked my entire life since I can remember, seven to be specific. By eighteen I found myself here, I was young and my only experience came from the mines and cleaning cars but agriculture is a booming business here so somehow I found my way to a ranch that was hiring to work on machinery. I didn’t know how to work a car let alone a tractor but I was hungry and needed money to send back home. My dad died when I was only three and my mom was left alone with five kids. I had to help her. I lied my way through with the owner and I was young so he took me in.” 
Everyone starts somewhere and soon falls in love with the place.
“I stayed at a shack they had built by plots, their own home wasn’t too far so I often went by to ask for a glass of water. That’s when I met Y/n’s grandmother. She’s always been this cold and serious. I would chug the water down and then beg her for more. She would roll her eyes and complain but would always come back with it filled to the brim, ice cold.” He laughs, tears finally gone. 
“From then on I kept trying to talk with her even if she pretended to hate it. I’d ask her sisters and sometimes her brothers but it was tricky, I didn’t want them to beat my ass up for thinking about their sister! So, I would have enough with whatever conversations we would have when she brought the workers drinks and food or at dances. One time her own father told me to ask her to dance and since then I never left her alone. With his blessing, then none of her family would interfere and sooner than later I asked her to marry me so here we are, sixty years later and twelve kids.”
“Is this you giving me your blessing to be with Y/n?” Jaehyun half jokes but there’s so much sincerity in his voice that he can’t deny being hopeful. The older man nods and laughs, clasping his back. “As if you needed it… I often went back to my own family but still came back because I love this place and everything it has offered me. Similar to you… I hope your love for Y/n is as strong as mine was years ago. I would hate to see a different fate for you two.”  
Jaehyun didn’t know how to respond to that, he truly wished to be back as soon as possible and he would fight tooth and nail to make it possible. Yes, it’s different from him and your grandfather due to the distance but he will make it work because he loves you, he loves you so much that he can’t seem to express it properly. 
“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”
The older man leaves him to his vices and thoughts. With another laugh and a nod bidding him goodnight, he turns the car off, leaving Jaehyun in the dark.
Jaehyun thinks about both conversations all night. He feels a sense of relief knowing he’s had a heart to heart with two of the most important people in your life. It’s good to know they approve of him and the love he has for you. He hopes you’re as understanding and hopeful as your grandparents.
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Saturday came as a surprise to him. The roosters weren’t the ones to wake him up, it was your grandpa who excitedly told him to gather all his things. Jaehyun tried to question what was going on but the elder gave him no time. His hearty laugh was enough of an answer, taking the few suitcases he saw in the corner while pushing Jaehyun into the restroom to get ready. He’s not sure what’s going on but he won’t protest, it’s the first time this week that he feels included.
Within half an hour everyone was ready, Jaehyun noticed you too were surprised by the sudden change of plans. You weren’t your usual put-together self and kept yawning resulting in you sleeping throughout the entire car ride. He took this moment to take pictures of the road. Previously he had compared it to his time in West America, he now doesn’t think it’s too comparable. The vegetation is bright and green, most of it coming from incoming crops and lively trees.
Within an hour your grandfather stopped at a town, it was time for breakfast. Both raved about the food despite how spicy it was while you and your grandmother made fun of them. Jaehyun took this chance to take more pictures, candid ones of you and your family with the prettiest decoration in the background. Every memory counts.
Afterwards, you all take a moment to explore the quaint town for a bit, simply so Jaehyun can get some souvenirs. It reminded him of two past towns he’s visited during his time here. One where he had to fight for a seat to be able to eat. Meal which ended up being one of the most disgusting things he’s ever had. He won’t ever tell the rest of you that but you share his sentiment. The second one being where your grandpa struggled to find parking and almost left. He likes that one better.
It’s not to say this town isn’t beautiful, it is. It’s historical, colorful, and calm. Very calm and quiet, something that reminds him of the best village which is where he resided for the past few months. How he loves it there and he’ll hold it to his heart.
Getting his pictures and souvenirs, it was set to take another two hours on the road, only stopping when having to use the restroom which unfortunately due to age is something your grandparents needed often. In those moments Jaehyun would reminisce on the day you two took those photos and bought Ollie’s truck, the one he saw daily perched next to the fine china in the cabinet with a passport picture of him. 
“Well here we are, the city I was born in.” Your grandfather’s voice made sure to take away the last bits of drowsiness from you. Your last visit was at fifteen and from the looks of it, nothing had changed. It’s amazing for Jaehyun to tell how different life was between the countryside and the city. The moment you all came to see the skyscrapers and bridges, it felt like a totally different part of the world. It was louder, much more polluted and littered, but for sure not horrendous. Your grandfather made sure to tell him the story of this city like he had done for every village and town visited. 
For the majority of the day you all spent it looking around. At the entrance, your grandparents pushed you to ride on the cableway that dropped you off directly downtown. You tried to make them get in it with you both but they excused themselves with being too old and preferring to meet you there with the car. You all knew it was so you and Jaehyun could spend a couple of minutes alone.
“It’s pretty.” “Not as pretty as home.” 
Jaehyun smiles at you, taking your hand into his. You return the gesture, squeezing his warm hand in yours. 
“Is your city pretty? I’ve heard it is.” 
“I’m not talking about where I’ll go back, Y/n. I’m talking about back home. With you, your grandparents, and Ollie.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Within you and the colorful buildings beneath, Jaehyun is sure to say the view during his time has always been beautiful.
“Do you truly want a life with me?” You shift, close yet with a distance. It was a simple answer, there’s no reason to lie. His smile, dimples, eyes, and even his reddened ears told you he did. Words are preferable though. “Yes.” leaves his rosy lips, kissing you to imprint the confirmation.
Only time will tell how true to his word he is.
You met your grandparents shortly, both bickering about where to reside when night befalls. The topic fell to deaf ears, prefering to explore more about the city. Murals that he wouldn’t forget, traffic as bad as where he resides with the exception that entertainment began the second redlights turn on. Street food that smells delicious and calls his name within every second. 
It’s similar yet so distinct from what he has learned to love. It’s clear to him that no matter how familiar you are to one thing, there will always be more to learn about it. 
It was near dinner time and within an hour or two from sundown. That forced your grandparents to argue again about the same thing from earlier. This time you two got to learn that your grandfather wanted to rest in his childhood home with his family while your grandmother wanted to avoid that at all costs. She’ll tolerate a visit but won’t give them the benefit of being their host, that’s her role. Not to mention she won’t forget all their wrongdoings towards her and her husband no matter how much the latter attempts to have a happy family.
Words thrown here and there, you all decree to eat out. Both you and your grandmother brought up the time his sister cooked unhygienically that he ended up having a stomach bug for the following three days. He laughs at this and leads you all to your favorite spot, somewhere Jaehyun yearns to taste again for years to come.
You all do end up visiting his family before the sun falls, a quick in and out situation. Jaehyun didn’t pay too much attention to the conversations, he was more entranced with the portraits on the walls and the cracks of chipped paint that told the story of this home.
“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”
Your voice forces Jaehyun to turn to you, extending his hand to feel your warmth. “Do you think they’re due to poor care or the house growing old with its inhabitants? Your grandpa said he doesn’t recall the ones from this wall.” Your head tilts, looking at them as if you two were in a museum. Perhaps you should take him there tomorrow before his departure. 
“Will you write that in your book?” He laughs, taking you into an embrace. “Okay smarty pants how do you word it normally, then?” You return the gesture. “I wouldn’t even think about it for starters, there’s so many back home. Why would I care about this one?” 
“I’ve seen how much care you all give the home, there’s barely any cracks. The question is answered for that house.”
“Then… I guess you can find an answer for this one. We’ve been here for an hour or so and there’s plenty more people living here who haven’t greeted them at least.” 
You both turn to your grandparents. Grandma sitting silently and aggravated in the corner with a cup of water that she hasn’t touched. Your grandfather enjoys his talk with his sisters despite their spouses talking over and for them. His nephews and nieces, nowhere seen but heard through these same cracks Jaehyun wonders so much about. 
Yes, he has his answer. A house without love crumbles faster.
The sun had fallen sooner than expected and with that your grandmother finally found an excuse to leave. The other elders offered to let you all stay with no avail when even your grandfather told them it wasn’t necessary. He knew of a nearby hotel, clean, and hospitable that you could all stay at and his wishes were final. 
Immediately as the doors were closed behind your backs, the ruckus of the other four families living there could be heard. It’s clear as day where their intentions laid and why not a single picture of you or your family was on their walls.
When questioning why he denied their offer knowing other times he’d agree immediately, he only muttered a simple: “They didn’t even greet you or Jaehyun. What kind of hosts will they be?” Jaehyun felt a part of the family.
Room distribution went as follows. Your grandfather and Jaehyun would share a room, each with their own bed. Same thing applied to you and your grandmother, a concept you knew too well. This was the first and final night in which you two wouldn’t share a kiss through the bathroom window. You miss it like you’ll miss him.
The following morning isn’t as kind to either of you. The previous day none of you were able to process the severity that it was his final day with all of you. Enamored with what the city offered and the warmth of feeling loved by everyone within the circle, no one felt the harsh reality that is now overcoming you all. There’s ten hours left of his stay.  
Silence is the first thing that you all notice, no matter how hard you all try to erase it. Being aware that time is ticking weighs down on your shoulders. Walking through these streets feels slightly surreal. Like a Dali painting, walking through a sea of melting clocks. A torment is what he’d call it.
He manages to get a few more souvenirs, he’s not sure for who or if he’s trying his best to collect every single piece as a memory, he’ll lean towards the latter. Besides, he snags some final gifts for you, your family, and even Ollie, it’s the least he can do besides memories. He’ll be taking those and who knows when he’ll be able to show them to you all.
Within the fifth hour your grandparents rendered themselves tired and tried forcing you two to go on your own. Jaehyun didn’t want that, as much as he loves time with you, he also loves spending time with them. The two have taught him many things, brought many laughs and anecdotes he cherishes dearly.
To be maintained happy, he invites you all to a final dinner. It’s much earlier than usual but he would miss his flight if you’d have to wait till usual hours. Your grandparents attempt to protest, claiming they’re bad hosts if they let him pay but they’re fighting a losing battle and Jaehyun will make sure he can grant them everything before he goes back to reality.
It’s by far enjoyable and it helps him reminisce on all previous meals within those cold adobe walls he loved since day one. It’s dim in the restaurant, recalling the time it rained so hard the streets became rivers and light went out for the remainder of the day. You all ate under candle light while your grandparents told scary stories of the village.
Dinner was the only condition for you to leave your grandparents to rest. With all the heaviness in his heart, Jaehyun fulfilled their wishes. And while you thought it was best to leave them at the hotel, the two continued their stubborn streak and ended up sitting at a park to people-watch. Naturally, they needed live entertainment.
Three and a half hours left, so little time and so much left to do. 
You essentially were a tourist just as him, both experiencing new attractions that you only saw in passing the one time you came by. It led to both jumping from museum to museum. National and independent, art and history, for food and tools. It didn’t matter but it filled the empty space and the forced silence helped neither of you spill what flooded your minds.
“I liked the tools museum better.” You retort, almost skipping down the steps to avoid the sun rays. It was much hotter than it ever had been back in town. “Really? I thought the history museum was really nice.” He covers his eyes, rushing to your side. “Nothing Pa hasn’t told you.” He nods, shrugging with a little shimmy to his shoulders.
He looks at his watch and sighs, there isn’t much time left. “Where to next?” His words form a pit in your stomach, forcing yourself to look at the numbers on it. You ignore it, dawning on you that you’ve never spoken in-depth about his job. What’s your thought process when coming up with your books?” 
He hums, “For my first books, they were all inspired by cases I heard back home. Where I was born. They’re bleak but there’s still a sense of hope. On top of it I read a lot of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy growing up so I felt like a cynic comparing both their work, trying my best to create a middle ground that would represent me.” He cocks his head, it’s a bitter taste to him these days. 
“Those two lead to my last two. I’m not fond of them, I won’t lie. They’re rushed and robotic, it’s noticeable in the tone but the publishing house wanted something fast and since they sold well, they didn’t care about how I felt, that’s why I’m here now. They wanted this book to be rushed and as miserable as those but I can’t handle writing anything of the sorts anymore. I would’ve ended up like Plath, Hemingway or Dazai if I wrote about how miserable life is once again.”
Jaehyun couldn’t understand if the look on your face was pity or empathy, he didn’t want to see it. “Don’t worry about this one. I’ve found meaning and great inspiration. I’ll dedicate it to you.”
You laugh against his lips, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “How will I know when it’ll come out?” He shrugs, kissing your hand. “I don’t either but I’ll make sure to deliver the copy straight to you.”
“What makes you think I’ll still be here by the time it’s published?” 
Jaehyun was under the impression that you’d be here too. Your grandmother had reassured him they would always have their doors and arms open for him but he never thought that meant without you.
“I’ll find my way to you even if I have to go to the end of the world so I can read the token of my adoration for you.”
‘Of my love’ is what he wants to say, hanging on his tongue yet too scared to dive out. You seem to read his mind, kissing him instead to swallow what neither of you can say just yet.
 There was still some time left but nothing else worth seeing. Perhaps it was best to gather all your belongings from the hotel, you had the keys to the car and it shouldn’t take you too long. By this point it would be best to waste time at the airport, as dreaded as it is.
Upon arrival time made itself present. The father clock in the lobby allows its ticking to echo through the tiles that you love. The ones in each room weren’t any better. Screaming far louder than the rest that when Jaehyun finished packing his and your grandfather’s bag to make way towards your room, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Dreadful and painful as the feeling in his heart.
He watched you look through the night stands, making sure your grandmother’s medication wasn’t left behind. He had done the same for your grandfather, his medicine case tucked inside his bag. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes, you don’t miss it when turning to smile at him, comfortingly. You want to ask about it but fear it will consume you as well if you dwell on it.
“Ready?”
Jaehyun shakes his head, joining you on the bed and taking you in a tight embrace. In every sense he wasn’t ready to part ways. You try to laugh it off, kissing his cheek and tightening your grip. Your hands caressing his back to bring some type of comfort but it does the opposite.
Jaehyun can now understand why your grandfather breaks down so easily. The weight of one’s emotions are soon to leave when you allow yourself to be free. That may also explain why he’s always so joyful, he’s free of all his grievances but for Jaehyun it will follow him for eternity if things are not fixed as soon as possible.
“This isn’t the last time, Jaehyun… Please don’t cry.” You cradle his face, wiping away his tears that shine like diamonds under the sun rays peeking in through the window. He hiccups, sniffling to control his sobs. “It doesn’t change how difficult it is to say goodbye.” He pouts, lips so rosy and puffed. You kiss them tenderly for comfort and warmth, it’s the least you could do. Words aren’t your forte and you don’t want him to see how gutted you truly are despite trying to hold a front all this time.
Jaehyun returns the actions of affection, holding you for dear life while kissing you like no tomorrow. Muffled words leave him, incoherent to you yet you swallow them. Like the blood of Christ, you don’t let a blood drop if it means your salvation.
“I-I” He attempts to sound what he wants to say, you don’t allow him. Shaking your head fervently, slipping your tongue in the cavity of his mouth to mute him further. You know what he wants to say but if he does, it will make things far more difficult than they already are.
Jaehyun submits to your cowardice and lets the ticking of the clocks guide him. His hands hold your body near him, pulling you onto his lap to feel you closer. He wants more and so do you, God knows when you’ll meet again. 
Fingers threading through his hair, sliding down to his neck, kneading the warm skin you love so much. The actions lead to silent mewls to leave his lips for you to take. You’re so appreciative of the gift that you deepen the kiss, letting his hands roam under your blouse to feel you closer and closer. It’s your turn to gift him a sweet sound that he wishes he could trap into a music box for him to wind and listen to it on repeat daily.
Jaehyun decrees that your blouse is in the way. Too thick and cold, nothing like your skin as he feels now. His large hands take a firm grip of the textile, pulling it off. You’re exposed and he can read what your heart has hidden all this time. Jaehyun prefers to kiss it away, his pillowy lips delicately falling against your chest. Kissing it tenderly to create more of those pretty sounds that hypnotize him. 
You hold him while he does, kissing the crown of his head. Granting him what he wants while your hips softly rock against his, friction forcing him to become rougher. A soft gasp leaves your lips when he softly nips the goosebump filled skin, nimble fingers undoing your brazier. One hand covering one while his teeth take your nipple in between them.
“Jaehyun…” It’s all he wanted to hear. His tongue is warm against your tit, kissing it like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, neither of you are sure but prefer to act like so. You on the other hand work on unbuttoning his shirt, the cool linen doing no justice to the warmth of his skin that you crave. Little by little you both feel closer to each other. 
He gently lays you down, between the warmth of your bodies and the sunrays witnessing your farewell ritual, the cold had nothing against you. You watch him, admiring every crevice of his body while pushing off your bottoms, leaving you bare for him to gawk at while unbuttoning his pants. 
Your giddy smile teasing him to hurry, giggles reinforcing the sentiment. Taking his shaft in between his warm hands, Jaehyun begins to pump slowly. You attempt to replace his hands with your own which he denies. Your touch will send him overboard without even beginning.
Instead he crawls on the bed and over you, kissing you like he always does. With sweet adoration and love, one you take thankfully. You make sure to cradle his face, his upper body in contact with yours as his fingers thread closer in between your legs. The digits waltz around your inner thighs, reminiscing on the path you and him often took to the plaza and market for your daily shopping trips.
He smiles into the kiss, the memories of all he’s experienced with you consuming him. The position alone brings him to that day at the hot spring where you two began this but never got to go further. The wait was over and he had you here. Caged between his arms, flesh against flesh, warmth radiating and your pretty sounds that he couldn’t get enough of. 
Slowly his fingers intrude the cavern between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips that helped him deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, finding yours immediately to participate in a waltz where the two could share the words that neither of you were strong enough to share. His fingers curl and pump languidly within you. The action is so foreign and long forgotten that you feel like putty beneath him. 
His name falls from your lips like a prayer, warm breath danced across his skin. Lips perfectly wrapping around the flesh of his red earlobe. He’s so sweet and easy to digest, you wish to swallow him so he never leaves you but you know that can’t be so you will make do with what these few minutes can bring to you.
It’s not far off that he takes his fingers out of you, sticking his tongue out to savor you. Just as sweet as you find him. He moans in delight, rubbing off the dripping essence on his throbbing cock that had earlier been rubbing up against your leg. Jaehyun looks directly at you while pumping himself once again. You no longer look playful but rather hungry and desperate. You needed him like one would need air. Like an addict needs their fix and you fear yours will be taken away from you once you’re both done. The ticking clocks are making it boldly aware.
His eyebrows turn up, eyes softening as if asking if you’re ready. You nod as a response, replacing his hand and continuing his strokes, dragging him downwards slowly in the process. He knew if you touched him he would be thrown overboard, he’s near it but he’ll try to last just for you. And for the sake to excuse being together for longer.
Jaehyun fixed his position above you, nudging your legs minimally to fit between them. He went in slowly, bit by bit. Avoiding any discomfort that he could bring you. You pay him with pleasured moans and kisses to shut yourself up, he graciously takes them. 
“I–” he wants to say it, he wants to tell you how much he loves you. This feels like the perfect time. You shot him down again with that sweet smile of yours, shimming your hips to which he responds by beginning his thrusts. They’re gentle and steady, enough to make you feel something that you’re only able to describe through silent mewls. He holds you tightly, pulling one of your legs above his hip. Jaehyun tries everything to feel you closer, he wants to go deeper and deeper to no avail, his thrusts can only go so far and it makes him yearn for the possibility that he could have more of you but so little time and resources to figure it out.
Jaehyun can’t believe this is it. He’s thankful this is the memory of you he’ll take with him, he’ll cherish it with every fiber in him, treasuring it like one would the eucharist. All he could think about was how wonderful you felt and how perfect your body molds to his. If this isn’t a sign that you’re meant for each other then he doesn’t know what is. 
He worships you in these moments and will continue to do so when he’s gone. He now understands the feeling devotees feel when finding their God and as sacrilegious as it is, Jaehyun’s mind won’t change. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you…
And most of all you feel his love within you. It manifests itself through tears streaming down your cheek, moans muddled with sobs that he can’t decipher to stop and comfort you or continue his thrusts. You answer for him, begging him to keep going, that you’re so close but he knows there’s more to those words besides lust.
He prods, kissing you, being the one to beg this time to let him know what was wrong but you smile and kiss him along. Leaving a trail of kisses along his jugular and shoulders, hands grasping to his flesh for dear life.
“My sweet girl.. Please tell me what’s wrong? Y/n, I lo–” “I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun’s thrusts speed with every repeated word, elated to hear you say what he has wanted to all this time. To hear you spew the words he finally had the courage to let out. For you to hear and engrave in your heart and brain the way he has done so with your own.
He smiles, kissing you with a final thrust. Pulling out to place the proof of his love on your cramping stomach, the pain leaving when you, yourself release. Without a care for the mess, he lays on you, craving your warmth and touch.
“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know or understand.” The whisper pollutes the room, kissing you to cement the sentiment. You sigh, kissing the crown of his head, cradling his body against yours. If it was up to you, you would not mind dying like this. With the city’s racket as background noise, your heart palpitating against his ear, and his breathing the anecdote to tranquilize you.
Time wasn’t forgiving, his departure time was coming sooner than ever. Reluctantly, both pull away for a quick shower. It felt surreal how slow time felt when enthralled within the love you both had for each other but when reality hit, it rushed you all through the motion. Picking up your grandparents from the park, driving in silence to the airport while dealing with some traffic and the static of the radio. All of this just to arrive at the airport with minutes to spare and for the universe to not understand the pain you all felt.
It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.
“I guess this is it, huh?” Jaehyun is the first to break the silence, holding back his sobs, the redness of his nose and ears give him away. Your grandfather laughs, nodding as he takes him into a hug in which both men break down in a fit of cries. Your grandmother gives you a look, she wants to say something snarky but her tough exterior proves futile when even she feels a weep stuck in her throat. 
“You’ll contact us, right?” Your grandfather wipes his nose, sniffling while smiling warmly at the younger. Jaehyun nods, taking out his pocket book, scribbling his address for you all to send him letters. He doesn’t need yours, he has it saved by memory.
Your grandmother is second in hugging him, slipping in a bill for him to buy something back home. Both know it’s useless where he’ll go but he’ll cherish it as a memory from her just like the box of cigarettes your grandfather had gotten him. He doesn’t smoke but a token of love is a token of love. 
The elder woman pats his cheek, smiling at him tenderly. She hopes this isn’t the last time she’ll see him but she more so than anything hopes he doesn’t disappoint you after this departure. 
“Take care.” 
It leaves you at last. No more to say, no more actions to show. You just hope he comes back to you as promised. 
“I’ll miss you.” Your fingers fiddle with the paper in hand, his pretty handwriting hypnotizing you to believe this moment isn’t real.
“I love you.” That’s enough to call your attention. His palm cradles your face and he steals a quick tender kiss. Embarrassment of having done so in front of your grandparents floods you, you only hope they understand which they do.
“I love you too…”
You had all drowned the calling from the greeter at the door earlier on but things had to be done and reluctantly you both let go. Watching him enter that path had taken a piece of you and when he was out of view, your entire body felt like it would crumble.
You tried your darndest to not cry. To not show your grandparents how much his departure was hurting you. Futile is what they would call it, your sobs were becoming louder as your grandfather drove back home, hoping to get there before night caught up to you all. 
Nothing good ever comes out of crying. You’ve known this for a while, for you and your grandmother crying only continues to further make you miserable. Not like the relief it brings your grandfather and Jaehyun, that’s something you think you’re both cursed on.
It wasn’t too far on the road that you kept missing him. Regretting not carrying the film strip with pictures of you both to look at him at every moment now. Your only token of his existence came from the piece of paper between your fingers. Flapping around with the harsh air coming in from your grandfather’s rapid driving.
You believe it smells like him, Jaehyun’s soft musk that you love with all your being. It’s even warm from his grasp, and his pretty handwriting taunts you, letting you know it was permanent on it unlike with you. The paper will remember Jaehyun’s actions against it, it has proof, not like you who will rot at the fact that his actions can be erased easily. What’s worse is that the paper continues to torture you, freeing itself from your fingers and flying out of the car at a rate that even if your grandfather stops you won’t catch up to it nor find it.
“No!”
Your words are useless and frightening to be heard from the elders who question what happened. You tell them between sobs, losing all composure. Hunching over yourself to cry against your knees. This was it, you knew it was too good to be true. Your only hope relies on the letter Jaehyun will send you.
Letters that will never arrive.
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Questions. There’s plenty of those that have plagued Jaehyun’s mind since he left. He remembers leaving on great terms but as the months progressed his letters were left unanswered. If he had taken in the home phone number or Gabby’s he’d call for them years ago. Instead he found himself at the front door of the place he once called home with a panic rushing through his blood stream but hopeful nostalgia in his heart. 
There was a doorbell outside of the patio door, it had been painted orange. Very fluorescent, it reminded him of Gabby’s store. He had passed by it on his way here, buying a few beers like the day he learnt he had to go back. She didn’t remember him and he made no effort to remind her. Some things are better left in the past.
He didn’t hear many animals inside and it worried him, scared of how much change had been done. It took a couple of minutes for the door to be answered. Received by the presence of a kid he didn’t know but seemed to be around three years old.
“Who?” He looks at Jaehyun quizzically, tilting his head like Ollie used to do. “Um… is Mr. and Mrs–”  “Don’t open doors, how many times do I have to tell you that!” 
Well there’s a voice he recognized. Jaehyun stood up straight, looking up from the kid to the owner of the voice. When both took in the image of the other, Ollie was the first to take Jaehyun into an embrace. So much giddiness and joy in his squeal that he felt like that nineteen year old again. Even his grasp is childish and brute, shaking Jaehyun around. Jaehyun laughs, squeezing Ollie in return.
“I didn’t think you’d ever come back! When did you get here?” The patio looked the same. Fewer sheep and goats in the pen, Camila was gone and replaced with a pig. The dogs were strangers to him and the cats seemed to have forgotten him just like the chickens.
Ollie led him to the kitchen, at least that remained the same and he felt comforted by that fact. The two took a seat not far from each other, firewood crackling in the chimney to bring them warmth. Jaehyun handed him a beer bottle, cheering for his return and Ollie’s growth. 
“Why didn’t you think I’d return? I promised you all I would.” Jaehyun smiles, wiping away the alcohol residue from his lips. Ollie shrugs, doing the same. “You never kept in contact so after a few months of not getting your letters we lost hope. I was really mad at you for the longest time… I thought you had just abandoned us… Y/n.”
Jaehyun is aware of the spite in his tone but he can’t help but feel vindicated for something that isn’t true. His eyebrows furrow, leaning over the table for Ollie to feel his confusion. The younger one tilts his head like the boy from earlier.
“Ollie, I kept sending letters nearly every week for the past five years. I thought you all were the ones to leave me in the cold. What do you mean I didn’t keep in contact?” The roles seemed to have reversed. Ollie mimicked Jaehyun’s stance, elbows on the table while downing the remains of his drink.
“We never got a single letter. Pa was so disappointed he cried often about it. Ma didn’t but it was obvious in the way she took care of her plants. Your departure was enough but you really hurt them after that, they saw you as a son, you know.” Ollie shakes his head, swatting a fly away to avoid looking at Jaehyun.
“And Y/n… you really ruined her, Jaehyun. She would spend days in your room hoping to find an address or a phone number. At least to reproach your actions but instead she would cry herself to sleep in there. Her parents had to take her back home after a year, so she found a job and Ma and Pa were taken in by their daughter. She was doing better by then but still had to stay in the city just in case. They left me to take care of the house but it’s not the same.” 
Ollie’s voice is no longer harsh, it’s hurt. Jaehyun can’t help but blame himself with how things unfolded but he was sure he wrote those letters. He kept copies of them to recall everything he once said to you and them and if he had known you never received them, he would’ve bought them.
“I-I…” He sighs, “I promise I sent the letters! I made sure to drop them off at the publishing house’s mailing room. I can’t believe this…” His hand comes to his forehead but Ollie shrugs, picking at some peanuts he had laying around. “Beats me then. Why didn’t you visit in that case? We waited long enough.” 
Reality is that there will always be evil lurking around and seeing how this place brought you joy and peace, the publishing house did everything in their power to yank it away from him. Jaehyun isn’t a bubbling author full of life and hope. No, Jaehyun is a bleak cynical writer who dwells on the hatred he has for the house and manifests it through broody characters that find no meaning in life. If they had to bring that back, they would. He can have his one train wreck of a joyful book but newcomers have to go back to what they were. 
Jaehyun’s head hangs low, all excuses feeling useless. “Manger and publisher didn’t let me. We spent two years editing the final draft and by the following, publishing was in the works but the investors tried everything to change it that we had to fight for another year or so. I wasn’t even allowed to visit my parents, they had to come to me. Isn’t that insane?”
Ollie nods, sympathy and pity muddling on his face. Cruelty at its finest.
“We only traveled for promotions at the end of last year once it was published and some months after this one but I ‘escaped’ if you will and here I am.” His smile twists to the side, dawning upon him that misery will accompany him everywhere he goes.
“I’m sorry.” 
“For what? It’s not your fault.” Jaehyun hands him another bottle. Ollie nods, “I know, but things could’ve been different if you didn’t work in hell.”
The two laugh, clinking their bottles again. All was lost but one thing and that was the hope of Ollie helping him connect with you and explain it all. He didn’t want you to have such a bad image of him when all he’s ever done is show you how much he loves you.
“What have you done with your life then?” “I got married and had a kid. The brat from out there.” 
The kid had been playing with the hens outside the sprint door. Cats surrounded him and reminded Jaehyun of Ollie when he used to play with the animals while pretending to be doing labor work. 
“Looks just like you.” The younger hums. “He’s just like me too.” The two laugh heartily, reminiscing on your grandfather’s laugh. 
He hesitates for a moment but ultimately asks. “How’s Y/n doing?” There’s longing in his voice but the look in Ollie’s eyes tells him something isn’t right. The fact that he’s holding back a cough, a grave clue. The younger one wants to stall but knows that eventually he’ll find out if he keeps looking. 
“Y/n is soon to get engaged…” Like a bucket of cold water, Jaehyun feels his arteries clog and his body run cold, turning stone hard. “She’s been seeing a guy from work for the past two years, they relocated him to somewhere in Maranello, and now they’re living there. He sent a letter asking me to be there for when he proposes… I got the letter yesterday actually.” 
Ollie handed him the letter still inside the envelope. “He’s a nice guy but lacks some sense. He treats her well and provides for her but I’m not sure if it’ll thrive.” 
The now father stands up with a bucket of corn kernels, calling his child to feed the chickens while they’re all huddled together. He gives Jaehyun one last look with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.
“You’re welcome to stay, in your old room or here.” Jaehyun thanks him. “Landline has long overseas calls now, do with that as you will.” A toothy reassuring grin, Ollie walks out of the home leaving Jaehyun to his vices.
He gives the boys one last look, gaze dropping to the letter and reading over it around four times. It lacks emotion, it’s formal and only demonstrates excitement when describing your work on the garden. The only thing that reminds you of this place now that you’re miles away. Behind it is a letter written by you.
‘Very well, I’ll send you a care package later, Ollie. I wanted to remind you that we have a new phone so I’ve written it down. Don’t forget to write it down in the contact book or you’ll have to find a way to call me this time!
I love you, Gremlin, take care!
Sincerely, Y/n.’
If the angels weren’t clear as day, then he was stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity. 
Jumping out of his seat to the bar, Jaehyun stumbles to grab the phone, nothing like Gabby’s old dinky phone. He dials the foreign numbers, fingers tracing over your written name to feel the connection you did with the paper that lasted you a measly few hours.
“Hello?”
That sweet voice transported him five years to the past. Trembling within the walls of his brain and heart, waking up whatever joy he once felt before leaving this wonderful place. Even when your voice seemed aggravated from the silence on his end while garnering courage, he felt alive again.
“Hello?!”
He sighs, clutching to the phone for dear life, facing the outside allowing the sun rays to fall on him like the day he rested over your exposed body to feel your heart and soul envelop him in the love you once –and he hopes you still have– had for him.
“Y/n–” “...” 
The hesitance hurts, old feelings swarming in like a desired plague. You won’t ever forget that voice.
“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”
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smartkookiee · 6 months ago
Text
Wounds We Never Show // Ch.1 — jjk.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits, these two really do hate each other ❥chapter warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, drinking, Jungkook just being a little shit, small angst (squint) ❥word-count: 13.1k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Hi, checking in.” You set your bag down next to you on the ground. The front desk person took your info and handed you a key to your room. You admittedly arrive later in the day than you had intended, as it was already evening.
You noticed the sign had been placed at the entrance ‘Welcome friends and family for the Kim and Abel wedding.’ 
You had finally made it to this weekend. Namjoon and Melanie were getting married. 
You as the maid of honor had spent many months planning out every step of this wedding with Melanie. The hotel she always dreamed of, the food she insisted on having, the music down to the minute. Every detail was planned from top to bottom. 
You finally could get some sleep after today. 
You headed up the elevator to the floor Melanie said they were staying in. Her and Namjoon had elected to stay in separate rooms for the weekend. She took the honeymoon suite and Namjoon is in another room on another floor. A quick ride up the elevator basically led right to the room. 
The door was creaked open so you pushed the door open to let yourself in.
“Hello?” You dragged the word looking into the room, You immediately spotted Melanie and Ash. Sitting on the couch immediately inside the door. 
“You made it my love!” Melanie jumped to her feet. A little bit of champagne spilling from the glass she had in her hand. 
You set your bag on the ground and rounded your way around the couch to hug her.
“Your knight in shining armor has arrived.” You do a dramatic bow.
“What am I then?” Ash laughs a little at your gesture. 
“The jester obviously.” She gets up and you hug her as well. 
You had immediately noticed that they were both in matching pajamas and you could only assume that a pair was waiting for you in this room somewhere as well. Melanies had bride on the back of the top, you could only assume Ash’s had bridesmaid on the back. Which meant-
“You need your pajamas!” Melanie ran into the other room where the bed was and emerged immediately with a pair of the same silk blue pajamas. Yup, yours had maid of honor written on the back of the top. 
Ash put a glass of champagne in your hand. 
“I love them.” A little cheesy but you were happy to make her happy. 
“Yay!” Melanie bounced, she was rather red in the face, so you could only imagine she has had a bit to drink.
You began to shed your clothes from your work day. Ash and Melanie cheered at your mini non sexual strip show. 
“Stop.” You laugh at them. Throwing the pajama top on. 
“I didn’t want strippers for my bachelorette party.” Melanie teased. 
“Should have paid for a better one.” Ash giggled.
You kick her ankle, and she winces but was still laughing. 
“200 bucks and I’ll give you a real show.” You fully dress yourself now.
“Oh, sounds like a really good deal.” Melanie laughed and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, you do a little spin to show off the pajamas.
“They looked great!”
You sit yourself down on the couch with both of them and take a sip of your champagne. Finally letting the weight of the day come over you, Ash rested her head on your shoulder. 
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask, looking to Melanie. 
“I just wanted an easy night in with you guys. Nothing crazy because the next three days are going to be extremely busy.” 
She was correct. Although the day tomorrow would be easy, you were having the official Bachelorette party. Melanie had never done a bar crawl before so you and Ash set that up for you guys. Then Saturday was going to be mostly spending time with the guests and family outside of the wedding and the rehearsal dinner. 
You would barely have time to yourselves really. Let alone Namjoon and Melanie will be in entertainment mode the entire time.
Basically, the lay of the land tonight was, have fun but not too much.
“Good, I’m exhausted from the travel.” You dramatically huff out. 
“Didn’t it take you like half an hour to get here from the hospital?” Melanie raised an eyebrow at you. 
“Exactly, I’m exhausted.” Throwing an arm over your eyes. Although you were surprised you still had energy after your shift today.
A knock on the hotel room interrupts you guys. Melanie was about to get up to answer it but you shot up in protest against her.
“Uh the bride does not answer the door to anyone. Allow me my lady.” You push her back down, and give a little bow.
“Stop.” She whines but also laughs. 
You trot on over to the door, and an amusing smile on your face. You swiftly open the door, only to be met with the groom himself. 
“Who is it?” Ash calls to you. 
“It’s the actual stripper!” You open the door wider so Namjoon could enter the room. He gave you half hug when entering the room. 
“Oh I can get down with this strip show.” Melanie props her legs up on the couch, taking a sip of her champagne. 
“I’ll get the bills.” Ash runs to the next room to get her bag, causing a little laughter amongst you and Melanie. Namjoon was blushing and red from ear to ear. 
“Sorry to disappoint.” He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m only here to say goodbye for the night.” Namjoon rounds his way over to Melanie and gives her a short kiss but then Melanie begs for another one so he complies. 
“Hey, I think that’s extra.” Ash comes back in the room, she has her wallet instead. She pulls out a couple one dollar bills. “Here Namjoon for your time.”
You and Melanie are giggling again as Namjoon shoves the money back to Ash. He was just smiling but you could tell he knew he needed to get out of here fast. 
“Any big plans tonight, Namjoon?” You ask and find your way back on the couch next to Melanie. Ash follows just next to you. 
“Not sure yet. Jungkook planned the evening so I’m at his mercy.” Namjoon didn’t seem to bother but just the mention of Jungkook left a terrible taste in your mouth. 
“Ugh, good luck with him.” You take a sip of your champagne, Melanie does bump your leg with her knee, signaling to be nice. 
“You promised.” She gave you a pointed look. 
“Technically I only promised I would be nice to him. Never said I wouldn’t be mean behind his back.” You try your very best, but he just always manages to just push your buttons. 
“Well I’m making it a rule starting now.” Melanie pats your shoulder. 
“Okay, I will be nice the whole time. Namjoon I hope tonight is very fun.” Your raise your glass to him. 
“Thank you.” He bows to you slightly. “I should get going before he comes looking for me.” 
Namjoon and Melanie kiss one more time and Namjoon excuses himself. 
“Bye, Namjoon,” you and Ash sang in unison, waving dramatically as he quickly exited.
You both giggled.
Eventually the three of you moved into the room with the king size bed and all settled in. Drink champagne and turned on some random rom com that was available through the hotel. 
Settling into this very long weekend. 
At some point the three of you dozed off. You woke up to the room dark, but you felt like your mouth was completely dried out. Very carefully you tried to worm your way out of the middle of the bed. You grabbed the ice bucket because there was no way you were going to drink room temperature water.
The ice machine wasn’t too far, scooping out some ice and heading back to the room, you were stopped once up the hall you heard the elevator ding. Watching two people stumble out of the elevator into the hall. The second person catching the first. 
“I just want to see her, it’ll be so quick,” Namjoon slurred, barely able to stand on his own.
“Dude you will have the rest of life to see her, let’s get you back to the room.” The second guy, who you can clearly see now is Taehyung. Also slurring his words. Holding onto Namjoon like his life depended upon it. 
“Guys.” You made your way over. Both of them immediately take notice of you. They both stood up straight, trying to act sober. “Go back to your rooms. We have such a long weekend ahead of us.” 
“You’re right,” Namjoon sighed, but then he perked up. “Not after I do this!” He suddenly made a dash for Melanie’s door, but before you could react, someone else stepped in, pulling Namjoon back.
“Okay, that’s enough for you Casanova.” Jungkook spoke, patting Namjoon on the back. 
Your entire body physically repulsed away at the site of him. Your face immediately falling into  a displeased look at him. Jungkook noticed, and scoffed under his breath. Thinking, what could I have possibly done now?
“Aw what’s with the grumpy face? ” Taehyung comes to you and tries to poke your cheeks to make you smile, it makes you laugh. You grab both of his hands before he gets a chance. 
“Nothing, you need to get some sleep my dear Tae, you too Namjoon.” You pat Taehyung on the cheek.
 Before you can react he gives you a hug before he then breaks away and grabs Namjoon and pulls him over to the elevator pressing the button a thousand times. Jungkook stays where he was, looking at the two of them. He didn;t have any intention to get Namjoon Drunk tonight, but one too many at the hotel bar got too him. He should have been making sure he had food as much as he had drank. He paused his mental scolding to look at you.
“Yes?” You say dryly to him. Waiting for whatever retort he’s to give you. 
Jungkook lingered, his eyes sweeping over you as if sizing you up. “Nice pajamas,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He very well knew these were Melanie’s pick and he really had no issue with them. He had an issue with one particular person in them.
“Thanks? Anything else?” You couldn’t be less amused. 
You walk to the door which he was standing somewhat close too. Just close enough for you to catch a cigar smell, not his usual stink of cigarettes you were used too. 
“God you reek.” You couldn’t help but get one punch in before the weekend started officially started. After this, according to Melanie's request several months ago, rainbows and kindness.
Jungkook had gotten a  similar lecture form her as well. Bring the whole unicorn or something like that. He also wanted to get one last punch in before this all started.
“Hmm tell that to your perfume, Eau de Desperate. Seems like you wear it by the gallon these days.”
“Desperate, huh? At least I smell nice, unlike you, who’s one cigarette away from the grave.” You unlock the hotel door. You stop before you step all the way in. Melanie’s words bounced around in your head, “Listen, I’m willing to be nice this weekend if you can. Melanie made me promise, so that will be my last dig of the weekend. Deal?”
You were being genuine but it did kill you inside to have to offer something like this. 
“I can’t make you any promises, since I’m aware how unreliable you are.” Jungkook pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, putting one between his teeth. “Deal. That was my last one.” 
You took in a long breath. Hit right in the nerve he was aiming for.
“Goodnight, Jungkook.” You closed the door on him. 
Letting the door slam in Jungkook’s face, you didn’t see the subtle twitch of his jaw as he sauntered back to the elevator, trying to shake off the lingering irritation. His encounter with you had already grated on him more than he wanted to admit. You always had a way of getting under his skin. This was pretty light compared to previous spats.
As the elevator doors slid open, he found Taehyung struggling to keep Namjoon upright, the two of them stumbling in. Jungkook sighed, stepping in after them, hitting the button for their floor.
"Hey!" Namjoon suddenly yelled, his voice echoing in the small space as he pointed a wobbly finger at Jungkook. "Don’t bug Y/N this weekend."
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at Namjoon’s sudden outburst. "I won’t," he replied, though the agreement felt more like a reluctant surrender than a promise.
“I’m serious! They worked really hard on this wedding, so you be nice.” Namjoon’s words were slurred, his head lolling as he leaned heavily against Jungkook, who had to push him back gently to keep him from collapsing entirely.
"I’ll try my very best," Jungkook muttered, more to himself than to Namjoon, as the elevator doors opened. He really was going to do his best, this was a really important weekend for him too even though he hasn't been around to help. He tightened his grip on Namjoon’s arm, pulling him out of the elevator and into the hallway.
Taehyung dragged his feet behind them, fumbling for his room key with clumsy fingers. “Hasn’t it been five years of this back and forth between you two now?” he asked, his voice curious but also tinged with the laziness of someone who’s had a bit too much to drink.
Jungkook’s expression dropped, and a bitter taste filled his mouth at the thought of everything that had happened between him and you. "Something like that.” He said curtly, not wanting to delve into the messy history between you both. Taehyung knew the important stuff already. No one knew all the details.
Jungkook snatched the room key from Taehyung's hand, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. He opened the door to their hotel room and flicked on the lights. The harsh brightness made him wince slightly as he helped Namjoon over to one of the beds. Namjoon collapsed face-first onto the mattress, immediately out cold.
"Do not let him leave," Jungkook ordered, pointing sternly at Taehyung, who was in the process of kicking off his shoes.
"I won’t!" Taehyung responded, holding up his hands in surrender, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.
Jungkook lingered for a moment, watching as Taehyung struggled to pull the covers over Jungkook glanced at Namjoon, who was snoring into the pillow, the room heavy with the scent of alcohol and the weight of unspoken words. He knew he should stay, sober Namjoon up, joke around like they used to, but he was too worn out. Work had been relentless, his personal life a mess, and every time he tried to help with the wedding, something pulled him away.
Jungkook made his way to his own room, guilt twisting in his gut. Namjoon had always been like a brother, always there, and Jungkook hated feeling like he’d failed him. Which meant that knowing every detail of this weekend was so important to him. And now, as if things weren’t complicated enough, there was you—always clashing with him.
He sank onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shut out the noise in his head. This weekend was going to test him in ways he wasn’t prepared for. He checked his phone one last time, then tossed it aside, determined not to let his thoughts run wild tonight.
But the next morning, the tension was thick, and the silence between you was impossible to ignore.
"Okay, everyone should be seated! Namjoon’s at the front. First bridesmaid and groomsman, you’re up!" the wedding coordinator called out, her voice echoing in the mostly empty hall. Melanie’s sister and one of Namjoon’s friends? Brother? You weren sure, exchanged a quick glance before stepping forward. They’d only arrived today, missing the previous festivities, so they were clearly trying to get their bearings as they moved down the aisle.
“Next pair, let’s go!” The coordinator’s shortcut through the mild chatter.
Ash looped her arm through Taehyung’s, her confidence obvious even in a casual practice. You were jealous of her walking partner. She wore a small, mischievous grin as she sauntered down the aisle, adding a bit of flair that drew a few chuckles from the small group.
You barely registered it, though, because you were preoccupied with the awkward tension between you and Jungkook. Your arm rested on his like a dead weight. The idea of touching him—even for a rehearsal—made you want to squirm. The distance you both kept was almost ridiculous, but neither of you was willing to close the gap.
A hand landed firmly on both your shoulders from behind, shoving you together. Bumping your shoulders together harshly. You stumbled forward in sync, groaning under your breath like rebellious teenagers.
“You two look ridiculous standing that far apart!” Melanie hissed, shooting you both a glare. “It’s just practice, guys. You can fake it for five minutes, right?”
Before either of you could snap back, the coordinator’s voice rang out. "Maid of Honor and Best Man—go!"
You both moved forward, managing to match each other’s pace despite the obvious discomfort. The silence between you had held all morning, which at least made things less unbearable—but having him this close was testing your patience. His mere presence gnawed at your mood, a constant irritant you couldn’t escape.   
As you reached the end of the aisle, you split directions, the tension in your shoulders finally easing. You shuddered in revulsion, rubbing your arm as if you could erase the feeling of his proximity. Jungkook caught the gesture and rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his irritation.
"Alright," the coordinator said once everyone was back in place. "After this, the music changes, everyone stands, and then Melanie will walk down the aisle." Melanie does a quick run-through, smiling as she walked toward Namjoon at the front, playfully grabbing his arm when she reached him.
“Perfect. I just needed everyone to do this once before Sunday. Does everyone get it?” The coordinator scanned the group, getting nods in response. It was simple enough.
She moved on to speak to Melanie and Namjoon, while you stepped forward to join the rest of the wedding party in a small circle. 
Namjoon and Melanie had the whole weekend scheduled down to a T. It was Jungkook’s and your job to mostly help get them from point A to point B. Today was just the parties but tomorrow they had a family breakfast, extended family pictures, lunch with the parents, some other activities and then the rehearsal dinner.  With how busy tomorrow was going to be, the easier you were going to make today. 
“See easy peasy.” Ash bumped your shoulder, knowing your disgust for Jungkook.
“I feel like I need a shower.” You shiver, folding your arms over your chest.
“Well now we just get to have an easy day, and party hard tonight.” She placed both of her hands on your shoulders and rocked your forwards and backwards in excitement, you smiled. 
Which reminded you that you did have to talk to Jungkook about making sure he got Namjoon up and going in the morning. Namjoon and Melanie had both agreed they could get super drunk at their respective parties but that someone had to make sure they made it to breakfast in the morning. The breakfast started at 9.
Jungkook was across the room preoccupied with Taehyung telling him something about the last wedding he had gone too. Jungkook had a similar feeling, your perfume lingered and he felt like he needed to get clean because it was giving him a headache. Your presence doing just the same, almost like you had heard his thoughts. He felt a pat on his shoulder. 
Turning to see you, “Yes?”
“I need to talk to you about tomorrow morning. Now the breakfast starts at 9 so we need to make sure that these two get to bed as soon as we get home.  I can come down and help get Namjoon up in th morning if you need.” You were rambling really quickly and Jungkook felt like he could barely keep up. 
“You worry about your guy and I’ll worry about mine.” Jungkook nodded, wanting to get an excuse to get you to go away. 
“I’m just suggesting it, Jungkook. Offering help is not a crime.” You steady your breathing, fighting the urge to punch him. 
“I’ll get him there in plenty of time, promise.” Jungkook not wanting to cause a scene leaves you just with that, he figures keeping his responses short will keep either of you from getting too riled up. 
Although a part of his mind wanted to make some retort about you actually arriving on time in the morning. He kept it to himself. 
“Great. I’m trying to get Melanie there by 8:45. So you don’t have to worry about being too early.”
“Sounds fine.” 
You didn’t say anything and you just walked away. He could tell you were annoyed by his lack of enthusiasm and to be fair he didn’t care to grace you with better responses. 
“Wow I think that was the most normal conversation I have ever seen between the two of you.” Taehyung nodded, patted Jungkook on the back. 
“I would  have rather stepped on a nail but, this weekend is about Namjoon. I want everything to go well.” Jungkook huffed, looking at Namjoon and Melanie who were having a quiet conversation just the two of them. You took a moment before you ended up joining them. 
Taehyung's face was twisted in confusion. Your feud had always confused him, since he loved Jungkook and loved you. Made no sense to him why you two shouldn’t get along and yet here we were. 
“So tonight…” Jungkook started
They discussed the plans for tonight. They had a similar plan to do a bar crawl, unbeknownst to you having made a similar plan. After the little practice everyone split off. Spending the hours in whatever ways every person needed too.
After a while everyone started getting ready for the evening. Melanie really loved the idea of wearing cheesy bridal party outfits, so she had a classic little white dress and a crown that said bride across it. The rest of you had matching short black dresses, you got a sash saying made of honor and Ash and Serena had ones that said bridesmaids. It was cute, and would make for good memories later. You had taken a few polaroids in the room once everyone got ready. 
It felt like the night had arrived so quickly because before you had known it your crawl had begun. The first bar was just a little irish bar that ended up being super lame, the second bar you thought was a theme bar but ended up just being a sports bar so you guys ran out of there quick. The third stop on your location was more club than bar, but you all had a few drinks now.
You were ready for some dancing. 
“Oh dude they host an emo night!” Ash points at a little flier they had posted in the hallway into the club.
“Oh we are so going to that.” You cheer, catching a glimpse of the flier to make note of the date.
The club pulsed with blinding lights and a bassline that shook the floor beneath your feet. Bodies crowded every inch of the space, and the noise was almost overwhelming. Melanie led the charge, her excitement spilling over as she flashed her “Bride” crown to anyone who glanced her way. You, Ash, and Serena followed closely behind, weaving through the throng of people with linked hands to avoid getting separated.
Ash tugged you toward the bar, quickly ordering a round of drinks. “To Melanie!” she laughed, raising her glass.
“To Melanie!” you all echoed, clinking glasses before downing the drinks in unison. The alcohol burned pleasantly, warming you from the inside out and washing away the lingering annoyance from earlier.
Melanie pulled you onto the dance floor, her infectious energy pulling you in. The music thumped around you, loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and you let it take over, swaying and spinning beside your friends. Ash was laughing as she attempted a ridiculous dance move, nearly knocking into Serena, who shoved her back playfully.
“I love this!” Melanie shouted over the music, spinning in her white dress, her joy radiating like a beacon in the dark, crowded room. She grabbed your hand and twirled you around, almost causing you to stumble. You couldn’t help but laugh, getting swept up in the carefree moment.
“Only Melanie could turn a random club into her own private party,” you teased, still holding her hand as you both moved to the beat.
As the night wore on, you found yourself momentarily breaking away from the group to catch your breath. The room was a blur of colors and sound, and you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Your job had gotten more intense lately, that on top of the wedding had gotten you completely wound up. You leaned against the bar, looking to get something a little stronger.
“What can I get for you?” The bartender leaning over the bar to you. You took a glance at his nametag then back to him. He was seriously attractive.
“I don’t know Felix.” You flirt, “Something sweet and strong. Surprise me.”
He started on something immediately, you pulled out your card and watched him. He had long blonde hair and a cute face. You tried to hide your obvious stare but the alcohol already in your system was getting the better of you. To your surprise he put two down in front of you. 
“Two?.” 
“One for the bride. Miss Honor. One is on the house.” he grinned, you tilt your head. 
“Which one?” You tease. Tapping between the two drinks. 
Felix chuckled, leaning in a little closer, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music. “The one for the cuter one, obviously.” He shot you a wink, and you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a rush of confidence bubble up. It wasn’t often that you found yourself in these kinds of playful exchanges, especially with all the stress you’d been under lately. Tonight, though, it felt good.
You picked up one of the drinks, the fruity aroma already making your mouth water, and took a sip. It was sweet with just the right amount of bite, exactly what you needed. “Damn, you’re good at this. What’s it called?”
“Midnight Kiss,” he said, resting his elbows on the bar as he watched you taste it. “Perfect for someone who looks like they need a little midnight magic.”
You humm, “Cute. Can I get two more? For the other bridesmaids.” 
“You got it.”
Felix steps away to make those and you take the opportunity to look back out to the girls. Melanie and Ash were screaming and jumping up and down at the change of the song. You laughed and were eager to get back. Felix brought over two more of the same cocktail. You began trying to figure out a way to manage to get them over to the girls. In your deep thought, you weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings. You end up getting bumped in the shoulder by someone trying to pass by.
“Sorry.” The familiar voice buzzed in your ears, there it was again, the headache. 
Jungkook stepped up, Taehyung trailing behind, a faint smile on his face as if he already knew this was a bad idea. Namjoon’s other groomsmen who you didn’t know the name of was also present. “Well if it isn’t the wicked witch of the west?” Jungkook said, his voice dripping with annoyance.
You crossed your arms, and give him a snide smile. “Funny, all I see is a cowardly lion.”
“I knew those flying monkeys we past by earlier were yours.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, one that prickled under your skin.
You crossed your arms, squaring up to him. “What are you guys even doing here anyways?”
Taehyung tried to cut in, keeping things light. “We are on a bar crawl. Funny we all ended up in the same place”
“I planned the same thing. Melanie had never done one.” You trace the rim of the drink Felix had given you.
“Jungkook’s original plan ended up falling through, so we decided this at the last second.” Taehyung added, he was doing anything to diffuse the tension between the both of you.
You forced a smile, trying to keep things civil despite the tension buzzing between you. “Great minds think alike I guess.”
Taehyung nodded, eager to steer things in a lighter direction. “Exactly. Fun coincidence.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. “Coincidence or bad luck? Still figuring that out.”
You shot him a smirk, refusing to back down. “Well, if it’s bad luck, at least you’re consistent. Haven’t seen you get anything right in a long time.”
Jungkook’s mouth twitched, his frustration momentarily overshadowed by amusement. “Yeah? Well, I’m just here to collect my prize for putting up with you. Maybe they’ll name a drink after it—‘Annoyance of Honor,’ bitter with a dash of drama.”
You snorted, raising your glass. “Better than ‘Pathetic Man’ watered down and pointless.”
Taehyung stifled a laugh, stepping between the two of you before things escalated. “Alright, alright, you two—enough with the drink menu! I’m pretty sure the bar doesn’t serve ‘Petty Martini,’ but I’ll check just in case.”
Jungkook bit back his retort, the moment of humor cooling the tension a bit. You glanced at Taehyung, feeling a grudging sense of relief that he’d managed to cut in before things got out of hand.
Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the shoulder, flashing an easygoing grin. “Come on, let’s get back to the table. I’ll buy the first round if it keeps you two from turning this into a bar brawl.”
You exchanged one last look with Jungkook, the challenge still lingering but softened by the brief, unexpected exchange. For tonight, the battle would wait. Instead, you huffed and turned away, joining Melanie and the girls again, your mind still racing from the exchange. You could have definitely come up with a better come back but your inebriated mind didn’t have the patience for it.
“What took you so long?” Ash asked, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the tension in your expression.
You forced a smile, passing out the drinks. “Just dealing with a little headache,” you said, brushing off the encounter with Jungkook like it was nothing. You filled them in on Felix, the flirty bartender, hoping the distraction would lighten the mood.
Ash let out a dramatic sigh, already halfway through her drink. “I swear, you’ve got a magnet for chaos.”
You laughed, but it was hollow, the tension from earlier still simmering beneath your skin. You took a long sip of your drink, letting the sweet burn linger in your throat. Tonight was supposed to be fun—a chance to unwind after everything. 
Across the bar, Jungkook tried to shake off the encounter as well. 
“Your betrothed is here.” Taehyung nudged Namjoon with a playful smile.
Namjoon glanced up, his expression brightening as he looked around for Melanie. His smile was enough to momentarily lift the mood. “Where?”
“She’s with the rest of them on the dance floor, We saw them when we were at the bar.” Jungkook, trying to dance around the scene you two caused.
Taehyung shot a sideways glance at Jungkook before answering. “Not without a little confrontation first.”
Namjoon’s smile faltered as he turned his attention to Jungkook. “What happened?”
Jungkook shrugged, taking another long sip of his drink. “Had a run-in with the maid of honor,” he said, his tone dismissive, but his eyes betrayed the frustration still bubbling beneath the surface.
Namjoon’s brow furrowed, a hint of disappointment creeping into his features. “Small spat, nothing to fret over,” Taehyung cut in, trying to diffuse the situation before it spiraled.
“Small spat?” Namjoon’s voice was laced with disbelief. He turned to Jungkook, his tone sharper than usual. “What did you do this time?”
Jungkook bristled, his annoyance flaring up as he met Namjoon’s gaze. “Why do you always assume it’s my fault?”
Namjoon’s expression was unyielding, a mixture of concern and frustration. “Because I know you, Jungkook. And I know how you two are. You don’t need to prove a point every time you’re in the same room.”
Jungkook bit back a retort, swallowing down the urge to argue further. He knew Namjoon was right, but admitting that would mean facing the uncomfortable truth about his own behavior—and the fact that fighting with you felt almost like second nature now. Comforting in a morbid way.
“It’s not like I go looking for it, nothing happened. We were very… civil… considering.” Jungkook took another sip of his drink.
Taehyung nodded, “He’s not wrong, they have been very normal. It’s strange.” 
“That is not something I’d ever think you two would be described as.”
“Enough about Y/N.” Jungkook would use any excuse to not have to talk about you anymore, left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Namjoon leaned back, trying to relax as Namjoon's brother threw an arm around Taehyung and started chatting animatedly about some old story. The conversation drifted back to lighter topics. 
Namjoon, trying to reset the mood, raised his own glass. “To tonight. And to the people who keep us on our toes.”
Jungkook smirked, a bit of his usual bravado creeping back in as he clinked his glass against the others. “To Namjoon.”
The group erupted in cheers, but beneath it all, the unresolved animosity lingered. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, the laughter ringing in his ears as he tried to shake off the encounter. 
****************************************************
Not too long after your little group ended up moving to one more bar. That is where the night took a little bit of a nose dive. Serena and Melanie had drank one too many and the night devolved into tears. Melanie talking about how in love with Namjoon she is that she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. She was a lightweight so it didn’t take much to get to this point. 
You and Ash decided it was time to call it at this point, getting the four of you back to the hotel.
You actually ended up sleeping in your own room last night. Making the morning much easier because you had set several alarms to make sure you and Melanie could both make it down to breakfast in time. That included making sure Melanie didn’t look extremely hung over. Melanie threw curses at you every so often, most of which just made you laugh as you got her down to the lobby. 
“I’ll make you a plate.” You whisper to her as you both make it into the room. She gave you a thankful smile as you made your way over to the breakfast buffet that had been set up. 
You decided to keep everything light, Melanie didn’t throw up last night but she was not feeling great this morning. So you kept the plate to fruit, and some toast. Easy things. You continue down the line, when Jungkook comes up and starts filling a plate as well. 
“Look who finally decided to show up.” He spoke behind you, you didn’t dare turn around to look at him. Your face twitching up in annoyance. A familiar sentence coming from his mouth.
“It’s 8:45, right when I said I would be here.” You continue down the line, stepping further away from him. 
“And we were here at 8:30. Since I know how Namjoon’s family are all early risers. So sad they had to wait for the bride to arrive.”
It actually annoyed you, you looked around and sure enough Namjoon was sitting with his family.
“I’ll have you know we were up and moving at 7. Either way, Melanie is the bride. She can arrive whenever she feels like.” You turn to him now.
“Well I was certainly worried. Since you have a habit of sleeping through important things.”
“Let’s not do this. After all, this isn’t about us.” You give him a flat smile, biting back your disdain. 
He couldn’t help but agree. “Fine.” 
“I have today planned down to the minute, so if we just stay out of each others way maybe that would be best.” With that you leave him. Letting that be satisfying enough.
You made your way to Melanie, who was deep in conversation with her parents. As you handed Melanie the plate you’d prepared, her grateful smile said everything words couldn’t.
“Mr. and Mrs. Abel, it’s so good to see you again,” You said warmly, shaking her father’s hand before her mother pulled you into a tight hug.
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s lovely to see you too!” Mrs. Abel gushed, squeezing you affectionately.
“I hope you’ve found everything alright, and your check-in went smoothly,” you smiled, glancing between them.
“It’s been wonderful,” her father replied. “Everything’s gone off without a hitch so far.”
“You and Melanie really outdid yourselves with the schedule. It’s so thoughtful—there’s something for everyone,” Mrs. Abel added, her enthusiasm contagious. You and Melanie had spent countless hours planning every detail of the weekend, and hearing it appreciated felt like a small victory.
“Oh, I barely did anything. This was all Melanie’s vision,” you said, squeezing Melanie’s shoulder with a smile. It was true; Melanie’s dream wedding came to life with the help of a meticulous coordinator.
“You’re being too humble,” Melanie chimed in, her voice playful. “I couldn’t have done it without Y/N. They planned this entire day, down to the smallest detail.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to the pickleball match this afternoon,” her father said, chuckling. “I’ve got a rematch with Melanie’s grandpa.”
You laughed, appreciating the lightheartedness. “That’ll be one for the books.”
Just then, Jungkook appeared behind you, his presence immediately setting your nerves on edge. “That sounds like a game that I cannot miss.” he said, his tone light but with a familiar, teasing edge. You faltered for a second, your smile stiffening as Jungkook stepped closer, and you could feel the victory in his eyes.
Jungkook saw you falter for a second and took it as a small victory, “Nice to meet you, you must be Melanie’s parents. I’m Jungkook, we hadn’t had a chance to meet.” 
Jungkook shakes both of their hands. Giving his brightest and warmest smiles between the both of them. You would think it’s fake but he is genuine in his greeting. 
“Oh you’re the best man!” Melanie’s mom beamed, “I’ve heard so many stories from Namjoon and Melanie about you. It’s nice to have a face to the name now.”
“Hopefully all good things.” Jungkook grimaced, looking to Melanie and completely avoiding the daggers you were staring at him. 
You laugh to yourself, probably only bad stories with his track record. Melanie catches you and gives you a pointed look. You mouth a sorry to her. Neither of Melanie’s parents caught what you said, as Jungkook was going on and impressing them and answering questions about himself. You just kept a tight smile on your lips.
“Anyways, I am just here to help everyone get from point A to point B today.” Jungkook bloated and put a hand over his heart. “Any questions you have you can ask me or Y/N.”
He looked at you, you almost couldn’t hide the surprise you had. If anyone had any answers to any questions about the day it was you. You planned this day down. He couldn’t answer any questions.
Mrs. Abel smiled, completely unaware of the tension between you. “It must be so easy to manage all of this with a great team like you two.”
 Melanie bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the statement. “Oh, you have no idea,” Melanie said, patting your back. “Right? A dream team.” 
You paused a little too long, “Yes… uhh Jungkook and I will be available for anything anyone needs today.”
You really stumble through your words. It's painful for you, but funny for Jungkook. Watching you force the words out even though if he was asked the same thing, he would struggle as well. 
“I just remembered,” You clear your throat, finding the first excuse to speak to Jungkook, “Namjoon’s parents wanted to meet the two of you before your joint lunch today. They are just over there.” 
You point between them close to the window where Namjoon and his brother were in a small huddle together. 
“Oh that would be lovely.” Melanie’s mom pulls her husband along over to them. Melanie decides to follow close in tow. Turning back to the two of you and wiggling her fingers between the both of you like she had her eye on both you and Jungkook. You waited until they were out of earshot.
“What's wrong with you?” You ask, keeping a smile on your face and looking at Jungkook. He feigned innocence in his smile. 
“What?” Jungkook tilted his head, wondering what you could have a problem with now?
“Since when did you decide to be so helpful? And since when were we a team?” You kept the smile up but your voice dripped with your rage. 
“I wasn’t able to help with any of the wedding planning. Believe it or not I love weddings. Namjoon is my best friend so I made sure that I knew today and tomorrow's schedules in and out. So, I could help this all move along as smoothly as possible.” He sounded genuine, but you still weren’t buying it. Weren’t buying that he was blowing smoke out of his ass. 
“Oh really?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “What’s happening at 2?”
“Wine tasting for the family or a drawing class for the artsy types,” he recited effortlessly.
“4?”
“Pickleball and the extended family photoshoot with the bride and groom in the garden.”
“11:30?” you shot back, expecting him to slip.
Jungkook smirked. “Nice try. Nothing’s planned at 11:30 because that’s when Melanie, Namjoon, and their parents are at lunch. The rest of us are on our own until activities resume at 2. Just like you scheduled.”
He didn’t just know the schedule—he’d nailed every detail. Your irritation simmered beneath your carefully composed expression, but Jungkook’s smirk told you he knew exactly how much this was getting under your skin.
“Guess I underestimated you,” you finally muttered, the words bitter in your mouth.
Jungkook leaned in just a touch, his voice low and smug. “You usually do.”
You sigh for a moment, you felt awkward because you were fighting every instinct in you to say he looks like trash or something. 
“Rainbows and kindness,” you mutter under your breath, the words a futile mantra against the frustration simmering inside you.
“What was that?” Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow, already catching onto your annoyance.
“It’s what Melanie told me to be. So, that what I’m trying to do.”
He chuckles, the sound smug. “Yeah, well, Namjoon said something similar.”
“Again, let’s just stay as far apart as we can.” 
“Easy.”
From that point on, you’re both doing your best to stay in your own lanes, but it’s impossible. As the maid of honor and best man, your roles keep intersecting, forcing you into the same space over and over again. Family members keep approaching, asking questions, and every interaction feels like another round in a never-ending battle. It’s not enough to just help; you and Jungkook are determined to outshine each other at every turn.
When a minor crisis breaks out over the seating arrangements, you step in, taking charge and fixing the issue with quick, efficient adjustments. You’re feeling proud—until you turn around and see Jungkook guiding the servers with a charm that has them hanging on his every word.
“Make sure the champagne is properly chilled before the toasts,” he instructs, his tone smooth and authoritative. The servers nod eagerly, clearly impressed.
You sidle up to him, maintaining a smile for the benefit of the guests nearby. “Didn’t know you were the expert on bubbly now.”
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, flashing you a grin that’s equal parts irritating and infuriating. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure it’s perfect.”
“Oh, please,” you say, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I’ve been coordinating this for weeks. I don’t need a last-minute savior swooping in.”
He raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “I’m not trying to save anything, just making sure Namjoon and Melanie get the day they deserve, remember? You should try it sometime—teamwork.”
You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to head off to the room where the drawing class is happening.. But even as you’re leaving, you can feel Jungkook’s presence on the other side of the room, always just a step behind or ahead, always in your orbit.
Later, you’re guiding Melanie’s extended family through a lineup for the family photos when you catch sight of Jungkook doing the same with Namjoon’s side. He’s charming, attentive, and he even manages to make the grumpy uncle crack a smile. It’s infuriating how good he is at this, and the worst part is that you know he’s doing it on purpose—to get under your skin and, maybe, to prove that he belongs here just as much as you.
As the day winds down, you both end up at the drinks table, refilling your glasses with water. The quiet moment feels like a truce, but not a comfortable one.
“You’ve really been busting your ass today,” you admit, your tone begrudging as you sip your water.
Jungkook leans against the table, his smirk never fully leaving his face. “Told you. I take this seriously.”
“You’ve memorized the schedule almost as well as I wrote it.” you say, half impressed, half annoyed.
“What can I say? Namjoon’s my best friend. I wanted to be ready for anything.” He shrugs, but there’s pride in his voice. “Besides, I figured you’d be busy enough handling the details. Someone had to pick up the slack.”
You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from retorting. “Still doesn’t mean I find you any less shitty, you know that?”
Jungkook laughs softly, a rare moment of genuine amusement. “Right back at you.”
For a brief second, the tension between you eases, replaced by an understanding that you’re both here for the same reason: to make sure your best friends have the perfect wedding. It’s fleeting, though, gone as soon as it arrives when Jungkook straightens up, that competitive glint back in his eyes.
“See you later. Let’s see who cracks first,” he says, holding out his glass in a  toast.
You raise your glass to him in a challenge, your smile more determined than ever. “Don’t hold your breath.”
As you part ways, you can already feel the simmering rivalry gearing up for another round. But deep down, there’s a tiny, begrudging respect forming—though neither of you would ever admit it.
Finally you all had made it to the rehearsal dinner though. 
Which luckily was more casual and the bridal party and all the guests got to come and say hello to the happy couple. Melanie had coordinated  a lovely dinner for tonight, and they kept it light so that everyone could just take time to meet each other. This was the first time most of the family would be meeting. 
Jungkook disappeared at some point in the afternoon. Which made you feel a little lighter and you felt like it was easier to focus on talking with family members and help people find the rehearsal dinner. 
“Feel like you have been a ghost all day.” Ash came up to you and handed you a glass with some cocktail. 
“I could say the same for you.” You take a sip. “I feel like I just floated here. So, ghost is accurate.”
“I’ve been trying to pick out the wild card for the weekend.” Ash said this in a quieter tone and you laugh.
 “Oh yeah? Who’s giving you the vibe?” You glance around the room. 
“Right now my number one is Namjoon’s uncle.” She points over to the bar, “He has taken full advantage of the open bar. He gives me the ‘takes the mic and gives his own speech’ type, I kind of want to see it happen but I’m also ready to take him down.”
“Strong contender.” You nod your head in agreement. 
“What about you, anyone giving you a vibe?” Ash leaned against you a little bit, keeping your conversation close to yourselves.
“Hmm…” You look around the room, “Definitely Melanie’s divorced aunt and uncle. She’s basically a child to them since they had none of their own. They keep trying to one up each other all day.”
Sounds familiar.
“Oh that’s solid. Well if it’s neither of those, maybe it’s you and Jungkook.” 
“Over my dead body.” You roll your eyes, “He’s insufferable but we made a promise to be civil. Although trying, I think we did really good today at keeping it casual. I'll take the win.”
“Speaking of, where is he, and Tae, where are our groomsmen?”
“Smoke break?” Wouldn’t be the first time, as much as you scrolled Jungkook for smoking. You scolded Taehyung even harder.
“Actually I was talking to a cute little thing, but I don’t think she’s interested.” Jungkook appeared behind the both of you, then he points to Namjoon’s great grandmother. You had met her earlier, she was very sweet. 
“I think she can do better.”  You take a long sip of your drink. 
Jungkook gives that same annoyed look he’s given you a thousand times before. Something about the air around him now felt different than earlier. His cool and cooperative demeanor seemed to have dropped. You knew when Jungkook was starting to get things riled up. He probably had a couple of drinks and now he was going to come over and cause a stink. Get you to embarrass yourself somehow. 
“Don’t worry I looked for a date for you as well. I did see a snake outside earlier, asked him if he could be your date for the weekend.” Jungkook met your action in turn, also taking a long sip of whatever venom he had in his cup. 
“Okay.” You keep it short and don’t look at him. You were right, you’re not sure what happened but now he was looking for a fight. 
Ash could feel the tension rising, she wanted to escape before this bomb went off. 
“Hmm… so you were serious about being nice. Shocking.” Jungkook places himself right next to you. 
“I’m going to regret this. Might I ask why you think that’s shocking? I have been doing just fine at it all day.” You sigh, but continue looking around the room, anywhere but at Jungkook. 
“Just surprised is all. I had to do it too.” 
“Yeah, barely but I appreciate it.” 
“Looks like you can keep a promise after all.”
Keeping your voice level. “Any reason, you’re trying to make it difficult now? I don’t get you.”
Jungkook smirked, leaning in closer. “Because you make it so easy.”
You took a deep breath, don’t let him get to you. “I’m not doing this with you tonight. Not here.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not like anyone cares. They’re all too busy fawning over the happy couple.” he said, waving a hand dismissively towards Namjoon and Melanie.
“Still doesn’t mean we should pull attention to ourselves at all.” You tap your glass.
You both stay silent for a second. Ash was nervous standing so close to the both of you. It’s like you were two stars about to collide into each other. 
“Let’s just stay away from each other again, okay?”
“To be honest, I’d rather not be anywhere near you,” Jungkook replied, taking another sip of his drink.
“Great. We agree on something.” you said, turning away from him.
Ash grabbed the opportunity to interject. “So, uh, have you guys tried the appetizers? They’re really good.”
“Yeah, the appetizers are great,” you said, forcing a smile.
“Maybe you should eat some more,” Jungkook said, a wicked glint in his eye. “Might help with that attitude of yours.”
You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re predictable,” he shot back.
“I’m done.” You turned on your heel and started to walk away, but Jungkook followed.
You had to get away, you were going to be nice but you weren’t going to take his abuse. The two of you had been doing really good, did you step on something of his and now he wants to fight again? Getting to another part of the room was the smart and sensible choice right now. To your surprise he stays in toe with you. 
“Oh running away? There’s the y/n I recognize.” He came close to your ear, and you push him away from you lightly. 
“I don’t need this right now Jungkook.” You were making your way to Melanie and Namjoon. Their presence would maybe force him to be on his best behavior. 
They were with Melanie’s parents though, you didn’t want to interrupt. You needed to retreat to another place of solitude. Saying polite hellos to people you recognized and family you had met earlier in the day. Jungkook doing the same as he continued to follow you. 
“Jungkook. You promised.” You turn to him suddenly and it makes him almost fall over, reminding him of something you can only imagine Namjoon made him promise. “Please go somewhere. Take your snake venom and use it on someone else.”
“I’d rather not.” He shrugged and placed his cup on a nearby table. Jungkook couldn’t help himself, he wanted to fight with you.
“Why?”
Jungkook thinks for a moment,“Because I’m waiting for the moment that your façade finally drops. Then everyone will see what you are truly like.” He words dripped with disdain, and he was serious. 
His goal was to see you fall. 
“My facade? Really? What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Must be taxing for you.”  You look directly into his eyes now. 
“What?” He tilted his head. 
“Being around a couple who is successful, must be taxing, knowing you will never have anyone like they have each other.” Because how could anyone ever want to be around someone like this. 
“At least I never let the same person make a fool of me over and over while I let everyone watch the wreckage.”
He spoke about David, your college ex. Again, David cheated on you and made everyone believe that you were the crazy one. You forgave David one too many times before the end.
This was enough though and ancient history. Your anger washed through you, this was not the time nor the place. You didn’t care. He was throwing this in your face again. After so much time. How childish could he be? He would stoop so low again? What was wrong with him? 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You scoff. 
“What? Can dish it but can’t take it?” He clicked his glass against yours.  
“Come here.” You basically bark at Jungkook and grab the sleeve of his jacket. You rush him out of the reception into the hall. Making it so you can keep whatever fight this could possibly turn into just between the both of you.
“Ow!” He rips his arm away, almost looking disgusted that you even touched him. 
“You know I have gone over this in my mind again and again…” you pace from left to right shaking your head, disbelief running through you.
“What are you talking about?”
“Because I thought maybe that just for one day you could put whatever problem you have with me aside. For one day we could be civil and pretend to be friendly. So Melanie and Namjoon could have a special day. I guess I was fucking wrong about you again. You simply can’t help but pick a fight.” You were spitting your words with pure disdain towards him, he had really set you off this evening. 
“Hold on, I’m perfectly capable of being on my best behavior.” His words were just as angry as yours, he had his arms crossed over his chest. Defenses up, he was ready to break you down.
“You’re fucking joking right? It’s just like you to shift blame away from yourself again. You said all of that intentionally to get some rise out of me. To get me to embarrass myself. What were you just too bored? Had to pull focus onto yourself because you couldn’t stand it being on someone else? ” You run both of your hands through your hair angrily, eyes darting all around to look at anything but him. 
He scoffed at you. 
“Trust me, I spare you zero thoughts enough to do that on purpose and I was not pulling focus to myself.”
“Please you and I both know this was damn well on purpose and now we are causing a scene.”
“Oh shut up” he dragged out his words in annoyance, “You really think I wanted this to happen? To be in a screaming match with you instead of having a good time?”
“Jungkook this is all we do! Are you fucking joking? That’s why we are never in the same room together because you’re a self-centered asshole! And I can’t stand you! No one can!” Your blood felt like it was on fire. What you were saying may not have been all true but you didn’t care. You wanted to stick him where it could hurt. Your face was completely red and your breath heavy in your chest. 
“Yeah I’m the asshole. Fucking grow up, get off your high horse, and realize you are just as bad as me!”
You were moments away from actually grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. Maybe this would be the time you actually hit Jungkook. 
Namjoon stepped between the two of you right at that second. Surprising the both of you and it was like you split like magnets. 
“Hey!” He looked between the two of you, he was fuming, “What the hell is wrong with you two? Everyone can hear the both of you. You seriously couldn’t hold it together for me or for a few fucking days?” Jungkook tries to say something in protest but Namjoon shuts him up, “Not another word. Yelling about this shit right outside the rehearsal? Get your fucking acts together and take this bullshit outside. If you can’t figure this out, you both won’t be welcome tomorrow.”
“Namjoon I’m—.” You start and he gives you an almost similar look he gave Jungkook and you stop. 
He never really spoke like that ever. He looked more worried than anything but he was serious about us not being able to come back. You heard him whisper ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath after leaving the both of you in the hallway. How embarrassing though, getting kick out of your own friend’s celebration. Jungkook felt the same, but neither of you looked at each other or said anything for a moment. 
“Just awesome.” He said as he walked outside and you followed. Figured he made the choice for both of you to finish this outside. 
You fully expect a punch will be thrown by the end of this. Your rage had certainly been drained by Namjoon breaking you and Jungkook apart though. 
You both stood in silence outside in the cold. It was dark out now. It was still damp on the ground from a shower you hadn’t even known happened. The smell filled you with a sigh. Your skin was hugged by the cold and it made you shiver a little. Jungkook was shuffling through his pockets, looking for something. He suddenly pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
“Do you really have to do that right now?” You huff and rub your arms. 
“Do you really have to bug me right now?” His voice dripping with disdain, and he places a cigarette between his lips. Lights the end of it.
“We weren’t exactly done talking in there.” 
“With Namjoon’s entrance, seemed like it. Can you leave me alone now?” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers. 
“I don’t fucking know where I thought we would end up coming out here. Embarrassing enough getting kicked out basically .” You rub your hands together to try to warm them up a little bit.
“That makes two of us. I don’t know why the fuck you came out here either.”
You didn’t look at each other. Only acknowledging each other in your peripherals. You feel like looking at his idiotic face you might just get angry. You wanted to at least come to a truce to be able to get back inside and have a good rest of your night. You didn’t know how to fucking talk to this guy. Even after all this time, he still just bites back at you as much as you bite at him. 
He sighs heavily and a rather large puff of smoke makes its way into your vision as the wind moves it in your direction. Jungkookw was trying to blow it in another direction, he didn't like you but wouldn’t blow smoke at you. Guess nature had a different plan.
“You shouldn’t smoke.”
“Fuck off.”
“Fuck you, you know smoking is horrible for you.” 
“Oh suddenly you give a shit about what kills me and what won’t?”
“Jesus what is your problem with me? I just said you shouldn’t smoke and you told me to fuck off. You clearly have some big fucking problem with me that you need to fight all the time.” You stand square facing him now and he does the same. Matching up to your energy as best as he can. 
He holds his cigarette between his fingers and blows out another puff of smoke into the air above the both of you. 
“I think you should take a hard look at yourself first, what is your problem with me? Seems I piss you off more often then you piss me off.”
“My explanation would make no difference. Oh wait you refuse to listen anyone other than yourself, my bad.” You roll your eyes, it probably wouldn’t.
“No I seem to have done something else to you, but from where I stand. I didn’t do anything.”
“You're just a dick okay? Your personality sucks and you seem to have little care about the people around you and you don’t give second chances because one mistake is the end for you. Having zero regard about the things you can say or use against them.” You shifted your weight back and forth. 
“Last time I checked what I said or did had little meaning to you.” 
“Doesn’t mean that the things you say or do aren’t hurtful.” You march up to him and poke him in the chest and push back a little, he takes a small step back. “Doesn’t make getting called an asshole, a bitch, annoying, or anything else hurt less. Your words do mean nothing. Less than that even... It can still hurt though.”
You stare into his eyes, the fire behind your eyes must have been bright. His mood seemed to shift in front of you. Jungkook was puzzled but at this point it’s like he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help just pushing that one last button to get you into a fight, you were no better. Neither of you were like this with anyone else you knew. 
By everyone’s else accounts, the both of you were very kind and considerate people. Almost always putting others above yourselves. Except when it came to each other, fighting was all you knew. It was easy, maybe almost comforting for Jungkooks heavy heart. A thousand pound weight on yours. It was slowly going to kill the both of you. 
You realized what you had said and retreated back, holding your arms around yourself.
For one second you looked almost sad. Which Jungkook chocked up to being in his mind quickly.  
“Just forget it.” You turn around and decide to drop the whole thing, go back inside. You were tired and you wanted nothing more than to go back inside and have a good night. Jungkook jogged around in front of you and brought you both to a stop.
Nothing had been solved, Jungkook thought. This would just happen again, god forbid it happen tomorrow.
“No. Namjoon told us to take this outside. We are outside, and you said something real to me for once. So spit it out. Say what you and I both know you actually want to say.” He backed you up with several singular steps. His cigarette hung from his lips. The smell of it filling your nostrils. You eventually felt the cold wall meet your back.
“You stink.” You basically spit at him. 
He gives you a not so amused smile.
“Really had to throw one more punch my way huh?”
“What can I say. You piss me off.” 
He was much closer in proximity to you than you had realized. This was probably the closest you had ever stood to him, willingly. It was incredibly uncomfortable. Your eyes are flickering in between the cigarette in his mouth and back to a blank stare into his eyes. 
“Yeah, well you get on my last nerves.” 
“Anyways none of it matters anyways, I won’t forgive you just like you won’t forgive me.”
The distance stayed the same between the both of you. It became more and more comfortable the longer he kept the proximity. He’s wanting a specific answer from you, but he probably figures with how annoying you are you will not be giving it up. 
“Fine.”  
He blows another puff of smoke away from you. 
It was silent as some water droplets that came off the building's roof hit the ground, echoing around the both of you. 
You were going to smell like cigarettes too after this exchange. Gross. 
You both sat in silence for a while, you glance over to him every so often. Mostly examining his arm, you remember a time when he had no tattoos but now his arm had a complete sleeve. He had several tattoos that spanned down his arm. Some of them were exposed with his sleeves being rolled up. They were rather beautiful, for being on someone so vile. 
“You’re too uptight you know that?” he interrupts your thoughts. 
“Better than a loose cannon.” 
“Fuck off.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sounds like you need to relax.”
“I was relaxed before your existence came into my life,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.
Jungkook chuckles, not missing a beat. “Oh, come on. If I’m the one ruining your peace, then maybe the problem isn’t me.”
“Yeah?” you retorted, crossing your arms. “What’s your brilliant diagnosis, then?”
He leaned in just a bit, his smirk sharp. “Seems to me someone who was being satisfied correctly wouldn’t be so goddamn annoying.”
You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Then you must be a virgin.”
And just like that, you were right back where you always ended up with him. The insults, the jabs—it was a fight you’d both played out countless times before. You knew the script by heart: digs at each other’s sex lives, accusations flying, and the inevitable fallback of calling each other assholes. It was exhausting, predictable, and you were painfully aware that neither of you would gain any ground this way.
Same old, same old with Jungkook.
“Trust me, I’m well taken care of.” Jungkook took in a sharp hit from his cigarette.
“I’m sure you are. Easy to stick your dick in anything when you lack human emotions.” You could cut your sarcasm with a brick.
“All talk but it seems to me no one has taken a good dip into you in a while.”
“What am I? Ranch?”
“See I would laugh but I think you know I’m right.”
It hadn’t been that long but it was disappointing the last time you slept with someone. Just a one time thing, your usual routine. You hadn’t really had time to properly date these days but weren’t really look that hard. Just needed some easy flings, and men are disappointing in bed most of the time.
“This is some major fan behavior thinking about my sex life Jungkook.” You tease.
“I’ll become your fan when I’m dead.”
“Oh can’t wait.”
“For my fan favor?”
“For you to drop dead.”
He was quiet. Didn’t make a retort back. Just stood there, staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t his usual glare; it was something else. Almost like he was lost in thought. The silence between you stretched out, the usual banter gone, replaced by an unfamiliar tension that made your skin prickle.
“What if…” he finally said, voice barely audible and laced with uncertainty.
You gave him a confused look, waiting for the punchline or some snide remark, but none came. He stayed quiet, just staring, his eyes drifting from your face to the ground and back up again. The silence was starting to make you itch.
“What if...what?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Spit it out, or are you trying to communicate telepathically now?”
He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. “Just—hypothetically, okay? Don’t make this weird.”
“Oh, sure,” you snorted. “Because you being weirdly introspective isn’t already weird.”
Jungkook shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and nerves. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing up at the ceiling like it might give him the right words. “Just hear me out. You and I...we don’t get along. We clash. Constantly. And it’s...annoying.”
“Wow, Jungkook. Stunning revelation,” you deadpanned, giving him a slow clap. “What’s next? Gonna tell me water is wet?”
“Just shut up for two seconds?” he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual bite. “We’ve tried talking—well, shouting—and we’re still stuck in this...thing.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Nothing gets better, and it’s just the same shit on repeat.”
“So, what? You want to, like, go to therapy together?” you joked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are we about to hug it out? ‘Cause I’m warning you, I do bite.”
Jungkook let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “God, no. I’m not...I don’t know, looking for some emotional breakthrough. I’m just saying—talking isn’t cutting it, right?”
You squinted at him, still not catching on. “If this is your roundabout way of trying to be friends, I’ll save you the trouble. Hard pass.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to get the words out. “Not friends. Not...ugh, okay, screw it.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “What if we try something different? You know, like...a different kind of release.”
Everything about him right now felt so out of place and it made you uncomfortable. He was boyish, reminded you of how he was in college a little bit.
Your brows furrowed as he avoided your gaze, looking almost embarrassed. “What? This guessing game is not working for me.”
He took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know...what if we, like...”
You stared at him, expecting another insult or some nonsense, but he just kept hesitating. His hands fidgeted, and his eyes darted between your face and the ground. It was so out of character that it almost made you laugh. Jungkook felt so out of place, and almost wrong for even thinking of the idea. Reminded him of a stupid theory Taehyung had. 
“Jungkook, seriously, whatever ridiculous thing you’re trying to say—”
He finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and blurted it out, sounding almost relieved to get it off his chest. “What if we just...you know, slept together?”
There was a beat of silence between he two of you. you blinked at him. You weren’t even sure if you had heard him right but you before you could say anything you were laughing. A little too hysterically in his face. Until you actually looked at him, he was serious. He was serious?
“No way you want to—” you started, stifling a laugh, but his serious expression didn’t waver. “On no planet or universe are we having sex, Jungkook. That’s a horrible idea.”
He clicked his tongue, shifting his weight, trying hard to appear nonchalant even as he fidgeted. “Could help relieve some tension between the two of us. We keep fighting, but maybe we just need to, I don’t know...get it out of our systems.”
“You’re actually serious?” you asked, waiting for the punchline that never came.
“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’ with a confidence that didn’t quite reach his eyes, his bravado thinly masking the nerves underneath. “It’s a stupid theory Taehyung has. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides, you know...you realizing I’m right.”
You squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was just screwing with you. “Back up. What theory?”
“Sex fixes everything,” he said, deadpan.
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, the sheer absurdity of it catching you off guard. “Wow, and you’re taking that guy’s advice here?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, visibly regretting even bringing it up.
He sighed, remembering the countless times Taehyung had rambled on about his foolproof ‘solution’ back in his serial playboy days. It was the kind of theory only Taehyung could concoct. Fighting? Bang it out. Unrequited feelings? Bang it out. Stress? Bang it out. Stub your toe on the way to the bathroom? Well, bang it out. The list went on and on, a never-ending stream of inappropriate fixes for any and every problem.
And now here Jungkook was, standing in front of you, actually considering it.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you said, still laughing, your sides beginning to hurt. “You’re seriously standing here thinking Taehyung—Mr. ‘I slept with half the city before breakfast’—knows what he’s talking about?”
Jungkook let out an awkward chuckle, half embarrassed, half defensive. “I know, okay? It’s insane. But like...nothing else has worked, right? And it’s not like you’ve got any better ideas.”
You looked at him, eyebrows raised, fully enjoying watching him flounder. “So your grand solution to us hating each other is to do exactly what Taehyung would do. What’s next, you gonna get us matching bathrobes and a mini bar?”
“Hey, don’t knock the mini bar,” he retorted, unable to hold back a small smile. “But yeah, pretty much. Look, it’s stupid, but it’s Taehyung logic. He swears by it.”
You shook your head, still incredulous. “He also once swore he could cure a hangover by eating an entire pizza in one bite. The man’s not exactly a genius.”
“I’m not saying it’s perfect advice,” Jungkook mumbled, his ears turning slightly red. “I just thought...I don’t know. It’s different from whatever the hell this is.”
��Are you even attracted to me?”
He shrugged, “You don’t physically repulse me. It’s just your personality that’s the worst.”
“Says Satan’s spawn,” you shot back, but there was no real heat in your words, more shock than anything.
Jungkook let out a small, awkward laugh. “So, what do you say? For science?”
You shook your head, more bewildered than angry. “Jungkook, this is not a science experiment.”
He stepped forward, doing a small, ridiculous spin like he was modeling for you. “Come on, you gotta admit—I’m at least a solid seven. Maybe eight on a good day.”
“You’re not... ugly.” you mumbled, suddenly finding your shoes incredibly interesting.
Jungkook smirked, but it was softer, less confident than usual. “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Look at us, making progress.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the weird buzz of adrenaline mixed with tension in the air. This was unfamiliar territory, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh, scream, or maybe—just maybe—consider his ridiculous proposition.
“It’s’ like I said. Talking seems to get us nowhere and doesn’t make us any friendlier.”
He was actually considering this.
“You don’t actually think that could help?”
“It’s up to you. It doesn’t hurt to try. After all we have tried every other way imaginable to get along”
“You just want to get your dick wet.”
“Sue me. I’m human.” 
The ideas swirled around in your head for a while. That shit doesn’t actually work? Sex can be too weird and too emotional for people. It wouldn’t actually relieve tension between you two? He never really seemed like the hook up type, even though you were. He’s serious though, you can tell by his expression that he wants to. 
You stared at him for a second though, letting the thought sink in. What would it be like? To kiss him, to hold him. To feel– okay woah. Your skin was getting hot. The thought was exciting, you had never hate fucked someone. You hadn’t really looked at him in the eyes this whole time but he kept his sight on you to try to determine your answer on your face. Just letting you decide.
“I’m just offering the idea. You can say no.” He places a hand on the wall beside you, “I can see you seriously jumping hoops in your mind right now… I also wouldn’t tell anyone.” 
“I would kill you if you told anyone.” 
A beat of silence.
“So… is that a yes?”
“I-…” Your mouth was moving before your mind could, “Okay.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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shanastoryteller · 1 month ago
Note
Congrats on finishing See Something Say Something!! I checked the notification of the first AO3 email sent out and you initially planned on five chapters.
Would you say that the ending changed considerably since you started in October? Or has that stayed the same?
thank you!
it stayed the same lol. while my fics getting wildly out of control and becoming way longer than i anticipated is pretty common, i'm pretty much never changing overarching plot when this happens. the story that i become interested in telling is typically the story then i end up telling
almost every story can be made shorter or longer. it's less about what happens and more about how that information is conveyed. things that really tend to affect writing length are perspective and breathing room
the shortest fic i have on ao3 that's not part of a series is You Were (Not) Meant For Me (posted 11 years ago, jesus T_T). the premise is that claudia was a witch who intended trained stiles to be a witch and she arranged his marriage to laura hale, the future hale alpha. this is a traditional pairing as talia's husband was also a witch married to talia in service of the pact. except claudia died before she could train stiles or tell him about the engagement. stiles starts learning magic after scott is turned. derek falls for stiles and feels like he's betraying his sister by loving him, betraying stiles by not being the alpha he deserves and not telling him about the arrangement claudia made, and hates himself the entire time, but not enough to stop himself
that's a 100k fic easy
it's 1,696 words
it's extremely limited perspective (derek's) and it's made up only of limited snapshots of moments with very little context. there's no seeing what's happening, only told, which i think would quickly grow boring if it was longer and if the real point of the story wasn't derek's self hatred and how he fails to deal with it. that's the part of the story that isn't told, really - derek does think explicitly that he hates himself, but we're also seeing it in the way he talks and thinks about himself and the people around him
by contrast we have survival is a talent, which is obviously my longest fic. we're over 500k and we've got quite a bit to go
perspective doesn't just refer to character pov, but audience pov - are you being told a story, or are you experiencing the story? this is also tied into breathing room. there's no wrong way, i've done both and will do both, but one certainly requires more words than the other in my experience
siat is told only through draco and harry's perspective, but it's all happening in real time. the audience is being taken along for this story. the thing is that that things in real life don't all come tumbling one after another, not all questions have immediate answers. when depicting character growth and a plot unfurling, i think it's really important to include breathing room to give the audience time to feel that growth and change. i'm stricter about this with siat than anything else i've written, probably sometimes to its detriment. i want you and the characters to have time to feel the effects of emotional revelations and plot hints. i want you to have the time to question and wonder about things the same way the characters do
one time a friend criticized the good place for including the portion where they were alive again on earth because it wasn't as interesting as being in hell, but i disagree. we needed that breathing room both to live with the effects of character growth of going through hell and to have time for the effects of their actions on the plot to settle before they moved forward again. i stopped watching agents of shield because we weren't given enough breathing room - there was never a chance to see the characters not in crisis, the world was always ending, ect. the alchemyst book series has the first like 3 books taking place over a day and a half. i got tired of it after that. there's no breathing room
a story where i gave up on the concept of breathing room was build your wings on the way down. i liked that fic, but i wanted it finished, and to do it with i think optimal pacing would have made it twice as long as it was. so i said screw it, avalanche time, everything is happening all at once right now. there's very little breathing room there, which i think doesn't work too terribly in part because everything is so urgent and everyone is stressed so not being able to catch you breath sort of fits
See Something Say Something did not need to be 215k, although i'm not at all complaining. i feel very happy with how i told this story. but the basic premise - sam getting his powers early, getting involved in the large hunter world secretly from his family, and dean feeling misplaced and worried about how much sam needs/wants him - could have been told a hundred different ways and all would have pulled it off, so to speak
i considered doing the the entire fic from dean's pov (as a sam girl i love his pov because all he thinks about is sam and he's so insane about it) which would have effectively cut out basically the first five chapters. i thought exploring the slow realization of what's going on purely from dean's pov, with the audience having not insight would have been really interesting, just like what I did in dumb luck or good ghost with dean slowly figuring out that sam didn't die in the crash. another thing is the inclusion of all the side characters which i did to make the world feel rich and real, but we didn't need all these outsider povs to get the basic point across. very rarely is something vital being conveyed by an outsider pov, but it reinforced and adds to the main characters. i also initially didn't have wincest, which obviously added a ton of words. i loved exploring dean's self hatred and fear and sam's obliviousness, but bringing them to a place of ignorance to acceptance to happiness is a lot longer of a journey than just dealing with dean's propriety love as an unhinged co-dependent older brother. again, i'm sticking by all these choices, i made them because i thought it was the best way to the tell the story i was most interesting in telling, but my point is that you didn't need them to tell this particular story
it was also how i told the story. we spend a lot of time wallowing in character's emotions, especially dean's and sam's, but the others as well. part of this fic is convincing you that these two brothers should fuck, actually, and doing that effectively is going to take some time, especially at this point in their lives when things are pretty normal. comparatively, fucking your brother after starting the apocalypse is pretty small potatoes. i wanted you to understand these people, to feel what they were feeling, to not feel that it was inconceivable that jess would be willing to share her boyfriend with his brother, to buy all their relationships with each other in a way that isn't purely based on convenience
part of the reason i wrote dumb luck or good ghost before see something say something was that i felt i needed a firmer grasp on who the characters are before getting into who they were and who they could be - especially john, who i feel is exceptionally difficult to write without over excusing his actions or over villainizing them. the reason john doesn't get a single pov in see something say something is that while he's a motivating and underlying factor in much of the story, the story isn't about him. it's about the effect he has on those around him, and i didn't want to sully the pureness of that effect by introducing his internal dialogue, regardless of how persecutionary or absolving it would be. it's just not about him. it's how he responds to others and how they respond to him in turn
anyway! this is another example of something ending up longer than expected, but yeah. the plot of see something say something didn't change much from posting of the first chapter and my stories rarely do - i have plot points in siat that have been there since i posted the first chapter that are still relevant and happening. "harry and draco just. cut dumbledore's fucking hand off" my beloved
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itsmeatballworld · 2 months ago
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because of him
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summary | Locked in a safehouse with him would be easy—if you both got along.
pairing | bucky barnes x f!reader
wc | 1.5k
warnings | smut 18+ ONLY. p in v (pls wrap it up irl), praise kink, & alcohol use
a/n | hiii! I posted this on my ao3 account originally, but totally forgot about posting it here. Enjoy! <3
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It was two in the morning when his elbow jammed into your back. Two in the morning, after the longest and most tiring day you’ve had in weeks. More like, the mission from hell. And here he was, with that dumb vibranium arm jamming into your back. 
You grumbled and tried to ignore him. Then out of nowhere he kneed you.
You sat up with a yelp, still wobbly from sleep.
“Will you stop moving?” the deep grumble of his voice was almost unsettling, as if he was some demon from beyond.
“Me?”
“Yeah. You.” He yawned, “I almost forget you were here.”
If he could see you in the dark, you were sure he’d run for the hills. Your lips scrunched into a tight frown as the sleepiness wore off and your anger from the day prior bubbled to the surface.
“Well I wouldn’t be here if the mission didn’t go to shit, Buck.”
He cursed. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start?” But you were already starting. And he knew there was no stopping you now. “Sam gave us 45 minutes to run in and grab the weapons container. 45 minutes. How you managed to screw that in less than five—!”
You stopped talked as firm hands snaked around your waist. Eyes wide with concern, you swat him away but to no avail. “Don’t—!”
Bucky Barnes pushed you farther away from his body, shuffling you close to the edge of the bed.
“I need sleep, doll. So do me a favor and stay over there.”
Over there, which was still so close to his body. There wasn’t anywhere to go in this tiny apartment on this tiny bed. It was never meant for two people, let alone two people who really didn’t like each other.
All because the mission went to shit. Because of him, you grimaced.
It was supposed to be a simple grab of illegal weapons hidden at an undercover Hydra base in Split, Croatia. Gorgeous blue waters of the Adriatic Sea surrounded by terracotta colored roofs. It would have been a dream to vacation here, but it was solely work related. 
Unfortunately, the work day became a ‘work sleep-over’ after a shit-storm of mishaps went down at the warehouse.
Most of which weren’t your fault.
A soft buzz from the other side of the room caught you off guard. The buzzing continues in a rhythmic tone, which only meant it was one person’s phone—Bucky’s. 
You don’t get calls at night. If someone did call—someone better be dead.
“Phone, Buck. Phone!” You insist before he shifts off the bed, flicking on the lamp. You didn’t flinch from the light as your head was already shoved underneath two slightly flattened pillows.
“Hey,” he yawned. “Right…okay, but Sam, when can we leave?” There was a pause before Bucky sighs, dropping his voice slightly. “No she’s awake.”
You groan loudly, plopping back to the surface of the bed.
He stood there in the yellowish light, messy brown hair flat against his head. His boxer briefs were barely hanging onto his hips after leaving the bed. His old black cotton tee shirt was loose on his defined chest.
You couldn’t help but stare. You weren’t blind—he’s a hot guy. He’s always been hot. It wasn’t new. You look every now and again, just to remind yourself men who are that toned and perfect do exist. But they tend to be stoic assholes.
And Bucky seemed to be no different.
Bucky stared at you, his eyes hovering over your body before shaking his head. A smirk played at his lips as he fought back a sleepy laugh. You may or may not have been flipping him off.
“Okay I’ll tell her,” he says before he drops the call. “That was Sam. He said we’re not getting out of here until tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow? Those jerks from the warehouse are still looking for us?”
“Looks like it.” He plopped back onto the bed and shut the light off.
In the dark, you didn’t see his hand reach around your head until there was a tug. The second pillow was yanked out from under you. So, in the dark, he didn’t have time to react when you shoved him straight off the bed.
Thud. Bucky’s ass hit the ground. “What the hell was that for?”
“Oops.”
“You know what—” Bucky jumped up and the blinding yellow light illuminates the room again.
You recoil, gasping as if he’d somehow set your eyeballs on fire. “I can’t sleep with you,” Bucky spat. “You’re insane.”
“And you take up half the bed, but I wasn’t going to say anything,” you smirk as the words left your lips.
“I’m taking up half the bed?”
“Did I stutter, Barnes?”
His eyes widen as the newly pardoned Winter Soldier ignores his urges to throttle you. Instead, Bucky hurries across the room to the kitchenette. He dug around in the last cabinet, shoving past boxes of old crackers and cereal.
“Aha!” In his hands, a bottle of amber liquor waved in the air. “Get up, doll. We’re taking care of this now.”
“Taking care of what?”
“Whatever bullshit this is between us. You’re pissed. I’m annoyed. Let’s drink.”
You blanched, “do you really think alcohol is the best option here?”
“Only if you’re game.”
There was a moment of clarity in your sleep deprived brain. It was stupid, it had to be a bad idea. But your eyes lingered on Bucky and his cocky grin. There wouldn’t be any reason not to.
“I’m always game.”
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It only took two drinks. Neither of you were drunk when your lips crashed into each other. But those two drinks slowed any nerves of getting here.
Drunk would have meant you’d forget the fighting… that turned into laughing… that turned into fucking. 
But the only thing really getting you tipsy tonight was the feeling of his thick cock and how he slammed into you.
Bucky had you pinned to the wall, his hips rutting in uneven strokes now. He grunted as you sank deeper onto his cock, grinding against his own movements in an attempt to feel some relief.
“Good girl,” he moaned. “You take me s-so good.”
You squealed, digging your nails into his back. He rutted against your desperate movements, each time a bit harder when you moaned. He really liked when you moaned. Every sound you made kept him lingering a bit longer.
“So pretty,” he spat as he curled into you.
His boxers were at his knees as he dug his palms into your hips, trailing his fingers across your skin.
You mewled as his head dipped down to catch your lips again. It was intoxicating just to be against him like this. Feeling him all around you, inside you. It was everything and so overwhelming.
“Fuck,” he murmured. Erratic and swift, his last few thrusts were unsteady. Sliding to the floor to keep his hold, Bucky dropped his head against your chest. He felt grounded like this, nearing his release, grinding down into you against the wall. In one final thrust he groaned as he emptied himself inside you.
Sweaty and very satisfied, he smirked. But you weren’t done and he wasn’t about to waste time.
His fingers pressed against your sensitive clit, brushing it in even strokes. You gasped, grabbing his hair and kept grinding down on his cock still inside you. His fingers were working you to your edge of release and it was hard not to just focus on that feeling.
He was pressing his thumb so softly at first but urgently moves against your clit the harder you push him into you. His cock stiffened again inside you, like he was already going for round two.
“Bucky,” you sounded weak. Like the stress of his movements and touch were going to kill you. He groaned, thrusting as he circled your clit. “I know, baby, I know. You feel so good.”
It was only seconds before your withering and wining against his touch finally met release. He didn’t move, letting you ride your high.
“Fuck,” you whispered between heaving breaths. “Fuck.”
Those blue eyes sparkled under the moonlight. “Round two?”
You snorted back a laugh, gazing at the chaotic scene around you two. Clothes everywhere. Bed sheets thrown. Pillows half-hazard on the bed. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged.
“Shut up, Barnes.”
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It was mid-morning. The sky was cloudy and dark still as a storm was brewing off the coast. “Bucky,” you whispered.
“Hm?”
“What are we doing?”
He yawned, rolling over to meet your sleepy gaze. “What?” Back on the bed, it felt oddly natural to be next to him now.
You sunk deeper into the mattress, “what are we doing? With us.”
Bucky paused. A grin pulled at his lips. “Whatever you want, doll.” His fingers reached out, “up to you.”
Peaking up from the pillows, you watched his blue eyes brighten. Your fingers slid from his hair to the scruff of facial hair building across his jaw. Taking in his love-drunk gaze, you rested against his bare chest. “I had fun.”
“Bet you did—”
The pillow hit his face just as his body rumbled with laughter beneath you. 
His eyes lingered on your face before those soft lips brushed against yours. “Let me take you to dinner. When we get home and are not under enemy surveillance. Only if you’re game.”
Sinking into his body with a satisfied smile, you closed your eyes. 
“I’m game.”
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a/n 2.0: I love a little sassy bucky *mwah*
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aealzx · 2 months ago
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_______________________
Update Post
Prologue | AO3
Previous Next
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With all the excitement from the Watchtower, Danny had ended up crashing as soon as they got back to the manor. The others had let him sleep, and Bruce had been there to help him get the dinner Alfred had left for him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Yet after eating he was quick to fall asleep again. It was a similar pattern of sleeping, eating, and sleeping more that filled up the entire next day for him. Though he did manage to squeeze in another bath during the most recent stretch of time he’d been awake. That was before he unintentionally knocked out on his stomach while lounging on the couch in the study. It really was a nice room. With the fireplace, and soft cushions. Sam had ended up telling everyone to just let him sleep since he was usually sleep deprived anyway. The rest could only do him some good on catching up on the two years of accumulated sleep debt.
It was only in the afternoon of the second day after meeting with Barry that Danny was staying awake for more than two hours. A checkup from Leslie kept him occupied for an hour, even though it was still odd to him to be getting his health monitored by an actual doctor instead of his family members and a lot of guessing. He currently only had burns in an area slightly bigger than his hand on his ribs, and they arguably weren’t even second degree anymore. Something that made Leslie marvel considering he hadn’t had any kind of skin transplant or the like, but something that was still annoyingly painful if he moved too suddenly or too far.
It was during the check up that Bruce let him know that Barry and Wally had made progress with isolating which realm was theirs, and would probably be over that evening. Part of their validation was for one of them to actually visit the realm, and potentially bring something back that the others would recognize. Danny felt it was a little unfair that one of the Flashes would be able to see his realm before any of them, but it was something he was willing to give up if it meant they could confirm everyone was alright. Barry had already called to check in with Jazz on an item she thought they should try to grab, and because of the conversation with Conner and Bart at the Watchtower she had suggested one of their cellphones or laptops.
It was strange when they were gathered down in the Batcave and Barry didn’t have either of those in his hands. Danny figured maybe he was going to try and surprise them with it since they didn’t know exactly who’s phone he had grabbed, but he also couldn’t help feeling uneasy with Barry’s mannerisms. Something seemed off about him. That smile wasn’t quite right. Even though Barry tried to be as energetic as them while they all clambered into seats, Danny couldn’t help staring at him with increasing unease. Why was he insisting that they were all seated?
Had…. Had the G.I.W. done something worse than they could think of?
Danny felt Jazz start to share his unease when Barry took a seat to face them at eye level, and drew a breath to speak.
“As you know we were able to lock on to your realm’s original location. And as part of the process Wally and I both took a trip there to make sure we could create a connection,” Barry started, giving a summary that was way too quick and caused Danny’s smile of anticipation for the good news to slowly drop. Barry didn’t seem to want to drag this out any longer than necessary though, for after a tense breath and exchanged look with Bruce he finally let his own, forced smile fade. “I’m sorry… This is never easy to say, but… there’s nothing left.”
Danny didn’t fully register standing up. A subconscious need to put himself between the others and what he considered, however momentarily, a threat forcing him to his feet and moving him to stand slightly between Barry and his friends and sisters.
“W’what?”
That was Jazz, of course. Always giving the other side a chance to clarify. To explain more. To maybe correct their statement with the other side’s feelings in consideration the next time.
“I’m sorry,” Barry breathed again, wishing he didn’t have to tell these children their home and everything in it was no longer in existence. “The space where your realm occupied is empty. We’ve seen it a few times before, after something causes the reality of the realm to be broken…. There’s nothing we can do, but we’ll make sure you’re taken care of here.”
Their world had died. While they were gone, something had happened to erase what they had left behind before they could get back to it to protect it. Millions of people were gone, but all Danny could register was a single fact, echoing repeatedly in his mind.
His parents were dead.
His parents were dead, and he hadn’t been there. His own words from before echoed in his brain in a static of spikes as his breathing became semi erratic. None of this mattered if the people he cared about weren’t safe. What did it matter that he was still there- what did it matter that he was almost healed? What did any of it matter if Maddie and Jack weren’t there with him?
His friends and sisters were in an uproar, but it felt so distant from him. He only caught pieces of their outrage.
“What are we supposed to do?”
Sam.
“Says the one whose parents probably left her an entire fortune! I have nothing now!”
Tucker.
“I have nothing either, you ass! Or did you forget none of us exist in this realm! None of us have anything!”
Sam again.
“You will be taken care of. I promise-”
Bruce, interrupted by Danielle before he could finish.
“None of that matters you idiots! Who did it? Who’s the dumbass that killed my mom and dad?! ‘Cause I’m gonna rip them to shreds-”
“Danny?”
The voice from Jazz was strangely soft compared to the others, but shaking so much. He hadn't noticed her stepping in front of him, his brain a static of fuzz and muffled noise. Her poor frame trembled as she gently took Danny’s hands, causing him to flinch and blink for the first time in the past minute. He felt hollow. Like someone had ripped open his chest and scraped it clean, spraying it with disinfectant to the point he was numb from the burn. His throat didn’t want to work, memories of the explosion destroying the Nasty Burger breaking into his memory. Only to be pushed fractionally at bay by Jazz’s warm hands and concerned expression filling his vision. If he could just focus on her, maybe he could get his body moving again. Maybe he could do something. He still had his sisters. Maybe they could keep him going until he could figure out a way to fix this. He did last time. He had to figure something out. He always did.
“Was it because of Danny-?”
The breath to Danny’s lungs cut off harshly as he heard Sam’s words sounding too loud in his ears. He couldn’t breathe, his gaze dragging through eternity to meet her’s as she tried to recover what she’d implied.
“I’I- No- Danny, that’s not what I meant-” Sam stammered around the hand that had flown to her mouth after she realized too late what he question had implied. She had just been listing potential events to consider for the cause of the destruction. The fight against the GIW ending in realm rending explosions that had transported them there in the first place. Explosions that were essentially caused by Danny’s wail.
All Danny could think as his wide eyes stung, blurred, and spilled hot tears down his cheeks, was blame.
It’s my fault.
His thoughts were a whisper in his mind as his hands pulled from Jazz’s grip.
I killed them.
The start of a scream too weak to fully manifest escaping his throat before he smothered his mouth with his hands. He couldn’t be there. He couldn’t deal with all of this on top of them. He couldn’t handle being there when he didn’t know if they wanted to hate him or beg for him to save them.
So he left.
Body becoming intangible and invisible Danny leapt into the air, fleeing the source of the hurt and the confines of the foreign building so he could maybe just get some damn air and quiet. To stop being stared at with pity, and grief, and guilt, and concern, and something his sister gave so freely but he didn’t deserve. How could she still love and care about him after what he’d done? He had to leave so he could figure his own brain out before coming to terms with them, leaving behind even more voices from before yelling in an uproar.
“DANNY!”
How many people had yelled that? The more colorful cussing was easier to pick out individual voices to, but Tim gave his own explicative to the pool.
“Shit! Where’s he going-?” he cursed, eyes locking on Danielle since she was the only one he thought would even have a chance to follow the kid with abilities none of them knew how to deal with yet. They had only caught Danielle before because she had chosen to fight back. When she hadn’t wanted to be found in the past, they couldn’t find her. And Danny was more advanced in his skills than her.
“Don’t look at me! I can’t track him!” Danielle spat, her emotions getting slammed sideways with additional stress over her brother.
“Did you seriously just BLAME DANNY!?” Tucker burst, rounding on Sam.
“I WASN’T BLAMING ANYONE!” Sam roared back, coming back at Tucker with a fist raised only to have Barry snatch her hand.
“I have to go look for him!” Jazz broke, turning to leave, to do something other than stand there unable to get her brother’s soul crushed expression out of her mind.
“ENOUGH!”
Bruce hadn’t raised his voice once since they had been staying with him, and hearing him scold them now caused everyone in the room to freeze and snap their full attention to him. Even Jazz stumbled where she was and stopped.
“No one is going anywhere-” Bruce started, his tone more even, and surprisingly calm once again.
“Do not tell us to let him go, Bruce!” Tim snapped, breaking away from his almost frantic brainstorming with Barbara over the phone. “Being alone is not a good idea right now. He’s an isolated kid that got forced into being the only hero and having everyone rely on him, and just lost two people he loves. You and I both know people can’t deal with that on their own. Not even you,” he spat, rounding on Bruce defiantly.
The outburst caught Bruce only slightly off guard because of the content. But to Tim’s surprise, after flinching back fractionally, Bruce just gave a slightly pained grimace before resting his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I know, Tim,” Bruce assured. “And likewise, this isn't just on you to take care of.” That caused Tim to flinch this time, having not realized he was falling into that headspace. “No one is going anywhere until we get a plan together to make sure we have the city covered. It’s a big area after all, and Danny can fly. Which means we’ll have to work with everyone. So how about we all get suited up?”
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=7=;a I had this chapter 90% written like two months ago, and because of that I've reached the point where I've worked with it so long I think it's terrible. Also I had such a long break from the holidays I feel like I forgot how to draw X'DDD euuhhhhh I hope Sam looks okay, I'm not all that familiar with that culture so just googled and picked things that I thought suited her
Anyways, enjoy the return of suffering =u=b
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