#it airs at 2 am for me but i will still be staying up late to watch it and live chat w/ the besties. autism at work

[invisible-brandy]

im gonna re: my own tags from a personal post and talk about spock at the academy utilising their kitchen like an actual person who can cook while most students eat instant noodles and synthesized food (or go out to eat - but that's expensive).

and kirk (who absolutely can not cook for shit at that age yet) smells something delicious and like a cartoon character follows that smell into the kitchen, expecting to find someone who brought in some take out, but instead it's spock quietly talking shit about the cheap pots and pans they have in there. is it illogical to talk to himself? sure. will he still do it? also sure, probably partially in vulcan too because he misses it wants to stay comfortable in his use of it. and for a few minutes jim just stands in the hallway, staring at this vulcan–their only vulcan, in fact, so he knows who he is–and he'd stand there longer admiring spock's beauty if his stomach didn't growl like it's trying to invite itself to dinner and that alerts spock and he's just standing there with a spoon in his hands awkwardly, posture like a question mark and a little red in the cheeks because of the steam from the pots.

of course jim gets to share the meal with him. and THEN amanda sends spock more cooking utensils, because spock of course in his letter (god i think spock would like hand written letters) or on their videochat says that the ones they have in the communal kitchen are trash and "it affected the quality of my meal and my dignity, mother" and amanda gets all perky eared like "your dignity? why, son, do tell me?" "im afraid ive put shame on your family recipe when i shared the meal i cooked with a human from my course."

amanda would absolutely want her baby to make friends through cooking them meals. AND and and

mccoy would also be one of the few people who can actually cook, but he's a terrible night owl, so for a bit they don't cross paths.

then, exam season hits and suddenly jim is in the kitchen at 2 am, sitting on the counter, feet swinging in the air, and he's still trying to convince spock to actually make them a meal (spock is in pajamas because he refuses to stay up too late to study "you're supposed to do during the day time, jim", but he's actually also been lying in bed and reciting material in his head because he is very illogically anxious before their first exam. he's starting to suspect some heart disease bc his heart wont calm down, but its actually just anxiety. kirk tells him that eventually). spock keeps trying to insist on something lighter, just a snack, and then bones comes in and shooes jim away from the counter so he can cook.

and spock and bones could later have joking (but with serious vibes) competitions for who can cook a meal that jim likes best (even going as far as to make the same meal and present it anonymously to jim. jim is both stressed and very happy and well fed) and of course they'd end up hanging out together outside of the communal kitchen too.

bones wouldn't be able to keep jim from perching up on top of kitchen counters or his desk, or really anywhere that he finds comfortable or sometimes even uncomfortable if it's at least a convenient place to sit and flirt with either bones or spock.

spock would get more packages from amanda and somehow they'd all end up going to the post office ("it's not that big of a package to need two humans and a vulcan to carry it, it's only some herbs" "spock, you are clearly yet to understand mothers. there are not gonna be only some herbs") and carrying the surprisingly giant box back under sudden rain. mccoy would either get splashed or just not be dressed for the weather and spock would lend him his jacket and it would be super warm and mccoy who always grows cold would kinda want to hoard it for himself, but he'd feel bad that first time.

not the next time though. they'd go out to the town and jim and bones would be drinking while spock would be trying to figure out if he likes bars or nightlife in general and bones would complain dramatically that he's cold and spock would of course lend him his jacket. spock would never see that jaket again, it's mccoy's now. (both because it's really warm and because it smells like spock)

[bi-writes]

who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)

cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D

you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.

but this? this?

she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.

"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"

she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.

"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."

"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."

"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."

"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"

she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."

you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.

"i didn't--"

"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"

"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"

"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"

the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.

it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.

and she won't say simon's fucking name again.

you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.

fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.

you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.

you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.

you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.

you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.

"'ello?"

you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"

he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."

you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."

the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.

"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.

"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."

a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.

there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.

"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.

he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.

"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?

"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.

"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."

"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"

he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--

he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.

mmm. love.

"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."

he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.

it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.

his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.

"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."

you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.

"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.

"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."

jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.

and something wrong with me.

simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.

"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.

when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.

you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.

you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.

he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.

"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.

fuck, he's so pretty.

he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.

you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.

"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."

keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.

you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.

"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.

"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."

you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.

why don't i feel anything?

"i know. i'm sorry."

"nothin' ta be sorry about."

you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.

you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.

sick. twisted. mine.

"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."

he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.

"tha' so, baby?"

you nod.

"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.

"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."

you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.

you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.

"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."

"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."

it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.

he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.

"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"

simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.

"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."

uhm...

"simon--"

"no one likes a liar."

you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.

but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.

you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.

but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.

you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.

"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."

"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.

simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.

"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"

you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.

yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.

"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."

you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.

simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.

"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.

"tha's it."

"she was such a bitch."

"fuckin' right."

"she got what was coming for her."

"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.

"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."

the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.

he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

Swipe (Lucifer Morningstar x reader) part 2

Description: after talking to a man name Luca for a few weeks, during your first date your greeted my a unsuspected man…

RAHHHH

Am I starting this legit like 2 hours after posting the first chapter yes

I genuinely love this story and I can’t wait for this part

Next chapter is a smut ;)

Warnings: lying, apologizing for said lying, first date, angst (like 0.0001%), make out sesh

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Lucifer’s POV

I was hesitant, why was I so nervous? I stood outside restaurant, looking at the door. This was a mistake…I was getting ready to leave when I felt a Buzz in my pocket. I pull my phone out to see a message from you.

Y/N - Hey! I just sat down! We have a really nice table, are you almost here? :)

I staired at the message Y/N sent, I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing until I finally let out a breath, a raspy sigh left his lips “you have to do this..” i said quietly before walking inside the establishment. The moment i walked him all eyes were on me, considering I’m not out in public much so it is expected. I made my way over to hostess stand to see the host staring at me, she looked terrified.

“Hi I have a reservation, my party member should are ready be here.” She staired at me for a few seconds longer before being dragged back to reality, “of course! Come with me!” She said as the rounded the corner to the bustling dining room, almost immediately eyes are on me, now more then ever was I happy I reserved a more private area, she let me to the archway leading to a separate and smaller dinning room, “right through this door sir please enjoy!” She said as quickly as she left. I let out a breath before walking through the archway, and there they were…

It felt as if time had stop, this was really happening. All of a sudden a wave of nerves washed over me, but through the nerves I spoke. “sorry I’m late..” I said, my voice full of nerves. When I spoke their eyes left their phone, when they saw me their E/C eyes sudden slightly, their posture changing from casual to nervous.

No ones POV

Y/N looked up to see the face of the king of hell it’s self. They had a wave of nerves wash over them, the air felt thick. “Hi um,” Y/N started to say, clearly nervous. “Sorry I think they sat me at the wrong table I’m sorry your-“

“No your not” Lucifer said as he sat down at the table. Y/N still looked confused, why was Lucifer sitting across the table from them? Before they could get a word out to question him, Lucifer spoke, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, just let me explain...” he started, clearly nervous.

“I…” Lucifer stopped for a moment, hesitating, “I know this isn’t easy to explain but I need to come clean and apologize. A few weeks ago I started to reconnect with my daughter Charlie, and she wanted to help me meet someone…so she signed me up for Viva…and..” he said moving his eyes up to meet theirs, trying to read a reaction as the continued. “I lied about who I am..being the king of hell on a sight like that, who in the hell knows what would happen, so…I used a fake name.”

Lucifer was watching Y/N’s eyes, seeing a lot of shock, he understood where they were coming from. Lucifer looked at their eyes, Y/N stated quite for a few more seconds before speaking up. “So…the whole time I was talking to you?” They asked quietly. Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Everything clicked in Y/N’s head, it was so obvious. L.M, having a daughter named Charlie, his divorce being at the same time. As Lucifer’s and Liliths. Y/N stay quiet, the room had a uncomfortable silence before Lucifer broke it, “I know it’s wrong now and I shouldn’t have done that, and I understand if you don’t wanna talk to me again but you have a right to know.” Lucifer said quietly, clearly preparing for the worst. Y/N face went from surprised at the facts to a warm smile “I’m not mad, I’m happy you told me early on..” they said, reaching over the table taking his hand in theirs

Lucifer’s eyes widen and lit up see their hands touch his, the nerves washed away, he couldn’t help but smile. “But, everything else you said was true right?” Y/N asked with a small laugh. “It was the only thing I promise!” Lucifer almost blurred out in reassurance. Y/N laughed as his reaction, they loved how dorky he was.

The rest of the date went off without a hitch, he was such a gentleman. They talked about everything, their interest, their family and passions. Along with the amazing food, Y/N could happily say this was the best date they’ve been on, love or dead. Lucifer couldn’t help but be infatuated with every word that left their mouth, they were perfect…the apple of his eye.

Soon it turned late into the night, the red sky turning a dark crimson, soon they were both outside on the now dead street. “I had a great time tonight.” Y/N said to him turning to face him, Lucifer felt his heart skip a beat. “Anything for you dove” Y/N face got flushed at his little name. Lucifer stepped closer, their bodies inches apart. “So, you’re not mad right?” Lucifer ask them softly.

Y/N knew he needed that reassurance, Y/N took his hand his in theirs intertwining their fingers. Their face had a soft expression fully of love. “I’m not…I could never be mad at you..” Y/N said their eyes moving their eyes from their hands to his eyes, seeing the gloss in them…his eyes could illuminate a room. They staired at each other for a few seconds before he moved in closer. Lucifer’s eyes were begging for permission.

Y/N smiled before closing the distance, their lips finally connecting, It was a sweet passionate kiss. He was quick to wrap his arms around their waist, pulling them closer. Y/N’s hands made their way to both sides of his face, feeling his soft skin and perfect hair, It was all perfect.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips a few inches apart. They could feel each others breaths, Y/N pulled him in closer burying her face into his neck. “Take me home with you..” they said quietly. Lucifer’s face when crimson red and those five words. He didn’t say a word, the tighten the grip around their waist as red smoke in golfed them both…disappearing.

TAG LIST

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @aarkhamkknight

[11cupids-tarot11]

A Letter From Your Future Spouse

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1 -> 4

Cupid's Services Cupid's Master List Socials

Tips appreciated!

C@sh app and P@ypal only!

$minnieplant3

@janellec03

LOVE U

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

︻デ═一 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 1- Four of Wands, The Fool, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Page of Wands, The Wheel of Fortune.

"Hi you! I've been sleeping a lot, can't seem to do anything else lately because of how tired I've been. Finally. I can sleep as much as I want to now because of a situation that just so happened to end recently. Death.

What now? See, I've been wondering the same thing. But let's not even worry about it, let's just sleep as much as we want to because we finally can, even if it's only a little nap time out of your day do it because I gotta see you one last time later, I've got a message for you in your dreams. Spirit will tell you, don't worry about missing it or when <3

Resting so much so when I do have to work, you know, find that balance again between work and fun, I can focus on what's so important to me a lot better, I mean really give it my all... You know? Lol

Sorry, I dream a lot, you might notice my head is always in the clouds. I have very air energy like a Gemini.

Things are finally clearing up for me! I feel at peace, maybe we mirror each other and things are also getting better for you too? You have to let me know, okay? I feel like I can finally breathe again, be optimistic without being scared the rug is going to get snatched from underneath.

I've been working so so hard on my craft, putting in so much love and effort into my work and I feel really hopeful that all of my productivity will pay off soon, consistency is key, right?

I really like the color yellow, 😄 talk again soon!"

Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll below 👇🏾 ✨

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 2- Knight of Wands, I forgot to write down the rest of the cards I'm so sorry 😞

"I have no problem with putting in hard work for anything I want, even you, you know? If you don't want me the moment we catch eyes I'll make you ;)

The moment I catch you I'm going to make sure I never stop loving you, I'll make sure every day is beautiful, even on our bad days we'll kiss each other good night before bed still. I love you!

Why do you keep worrying yourself? All of that doubt in that pretty little head of yours isn't good, you should lay it all to rest before you make yourself sick baby. Sleep more, practice some self care before you run yourself crazy, okay?

I'm so proud of you, you know, for whatever amazing things you've accomplished lately. I believe in you, I'll always be your #1 cheerleader!

You should go out and celebrate! Enjoy the sun, you deserve it my angel! Promise me you won't let this go by like it's just not that big and you'll go out and do something? Pinky promise?

Stay focused! You're on the right path, you're doing amazing! I promise you, all of this will be worth it, it's worth our future 💓 keep going, I know you can do it! 🎉"

Hope you enjoy!!☺️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 3- Queen of Cups, Justice, Four of Cups, The Moon, Three of Swords, The Star.

" Hi my love, you know I don't talk a lot haha, so I'll make this quick as usual and get out of your hair so you can go on.

I just want to remind you, you're my queen, my favorite, my whole world ❤️ I think red looks really pretty on you btw but anyway, I love and miss you like crazy at times like these.

I am going through something right now, a legal situation, a situation I wish would come to an end right now because it's so heavy on me, it's hurting me but I know at the same time it's happening to me because it's part of my karma, something that's forcing me to look so closely at myself, at every shadow because I think it leads me to you. My everything. We're going to get married, I'm so sure of it.

I'm keeping hope alive, I'm hanging on to every thread of it I've got. I'm working on everything right now, I'll catch up with you soon sweetheart 💋 I'm going to kiss you when I do, you won't be able to get rid of me. ;) "

Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to do the poll below!!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 4- Ace of Cups, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, Nine of Cups, Knight of Cups, Nine of Wands.

"I want to come to you with amazing news but I can't, I'm sorry to say, I've taken a turn for the worst right now. Don't worry, it's temporary.

I am slowly building myself back up, that's what I'm doing right now if you're wondering what I've been doing all this time. I'm healing day by day and I hope you are too sweetheart. I might be a bit stuck and tangled up right now, but I'm clearing through it!

I'm the kind of guy who will pursue you with nothing but kindness until I make you fall for me with your charm, I'm cute, I know I am, you'll love me, I have curly light hair, and a really cute smile. You'll think I'm so adorable.

I want to offer my heart to you, fully, 100%. You have me, all of me as long as you give me you in return, I hope you do, I can't be without you once I know you.

Take care my love ❤️."

Hope you enjoyed ❤️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

[evie-sturns]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

part 2 (part 1 here)

summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.

a/n: theres going to be smut in the next part, hope you guys like this, read part 1 first, linked at the top! fuck danielle

contains: swearing, fighting (physical at some points), kissing/making out

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abrubtly matt pulls away, he saw me. his face drops as dani stares at me. my heart thumps as i freeze. matt tries to walk over to me, but its too late, i've already took off in the other direction.

i've found myself in the empty staff bathrooms, hiding in the stalls. matthew wasted my time, i spent half the fucking roadtrip up here comforting him, then he goes and makes out with her a few hours later?

i can't even understand why im feeling like this, why am i so.. jealous?

the door to the bathrooms swing open, probably matt, coming to explain himself.

"hey, come out of the stall please." a female voice calls out, "who's this sorry?" i say, still on the verge of tears.

"danielle."

my breath hitches in my throat, before i swallow hard. "oh." i mumble, unlocking my stall. im met with her face, shes still wearing the same outfit she was wearing while kissing my best friend.

she suddenly interupts my thoughts, "look, i don't know who the fuck you think you are? but don't go snooping into me and matts personal business, unfortunately hes mine." she says while crossing her arms, i scoff.

"funny you say that, because the whole car ride up here matt's been dreading seeing you, his exact words were, 'fucking hate her' so if i were you i'd back away hm?" i say in a 'sympathetic' tone.

she clenches her fist, running her spare hand through her dark brown bob before smashing her fist into the side of my face.

"what the actual fuck!" i yell before jumping at her, throwing her to the floor. the next 5 minutes are a blur of screaming, punching, hair pulling before she gets pulled off of me.

its jessie, the owner of the fucking camp.

she looks pissed.

(15 minutes later)

ive been sitting alone in the nurses office for 10 minutes, its now 11:30pm, i have to be awake in 7 hours for breakfast setup.

the door to the room im in swings open.

its matthew.

"y/n, are you okay? i heard what happened" he says frantically, sititng down on the chair beside the medical bed.

"oh please matt, dont act like you care." i mutter out.

"what?" he says cluelessly.

"look, go find out how danielles doing, oh! or you could fuck her while your there, go back to your cabin with her!" i yell, matts eyes widen as he looks at me.

"we aren't sharing a cabin, im with lincoln, shes with paige." he mumbles as he fidgets with his hands.

i laugh out of disbelief before standing up, pushing past him out of the room im in before swinging open the door to the nurses office.

the cold night air hits my fresh wounds as i approach my cabin, the lights are on inside meaning Xavier is still awake. i swing open the door, xaviers face drops "babe what the fuck happened!" he says, running up to me and hugging me, "danielle happened." i sniff as he lets me go.

"you gotta get some rest, we're helping the kids do kayaking tomorrow okay? gotta be up at 6:30." he whispers, as he pulls the covers down on my bed, letting me crawl in.

(6:30am the next day.)

a loud honk blares through the campsite, before jessie on the megaphone starts "shark counsellers! the shark kids are lined up outside the breakfast hall, go help out in the kitchen"

i groan, my face still throbbing from dani's punches. xaivers sits up in the bed opposite me, "you feeling better.." he says, his voice raspy.

i nod, "mhm, not too excited about dealing with about 25 nine year olds." i mumble getting out of bed "you'll be right, theres 6 of us to control them we'll do it." he says optimistically.

i finish up getting changed, tying my hair into two braids. "you coming?" i say, looking at xaiver over my shoulder.

the hall is only a few hundred meters away from the staff cabins, which is now filled with 200 children. matt and lincoln are walking through the doors, dani and paige follow close behind them, too close for my liking.

i step inside, the smell of oatmeal fills my nose as i look around, theres countless tables filled with friend groups, in the back corner matts sitting alone on the last empty table, picking at his dry toast. i sigh loudly before walking over to him, he looks up at me, his eyes are puffy and red, he looks upset.

i sit down opposite him, his breathing picks up before he starts unannouced,

"dani and i.. have hated eachother since middle school. when i saw you get into your cabin with xavier i got fucking jealous. hate to admit it but i did. while i was walking towards my cabin dani approached me, she started touching up on my arms before pulling me off the path into the bushes. she kissed me, i don't know why i kissed her back, i think it was a jealousy thing, i wanted to get back at you?"

he sighs loudly as silence grows.

"look y/n, i really like you, and-" hes cut off by jessie on her fucking megaphone.

"helloooo campers! this is the first official day of summer camp and here are what each group is doing today!, crabs are doing rock climbing, which means it is mandatory to wear closed toe shoes. Sharks will be doing kayaking, please wear your swimsuit and your counsellers will take you down to the lake!"

i barely take in what jessie says, the only thing i'm thinking about is matt's previous sentence

look y/n i really like you.

look y/n i really like you.

(20 minutes later)

we've been sitting by the lake for a few minutes now, watching the kids attempt to kayak, im wearing a triangle white bikini with daisys printed on it, matt's sitting to my left, his eyes have been on me the whole time.

abrubtly he stands up, looking down at me. "come with me." he demands "huh?"

i stand up anyway, he takes my hand and starts to walk towards a shed, he opens the door and switches on the light. the dim warm lighting fills the room, revealing piles of wetsuits and life jackets.

he turns around and closes the door to the shed, locking it behind him.

he looks me in my eyes, his eyes dart down to my lips. "can i kiss you." matt asks, barely audible.

i gulp before nodding my head.

matt's hand holds my cheek gently before connecting his lips with mine. after a few seconds it turns into a makeout, his veiny hand holding my hair.

he pulls away slowly as his phone lights up, he scrolls through it before letting out a soft laugh "no way" he scoffs, rubbing his eyes.

"tonight were sleeping in the kids hall, like me and you, supervising.."

"you're kidding matt"

"nope, apparently theres a small cabin that connects off the kids hall, its got 1 bed that we share" he laughs

my cheeks flush, sharing a bed with matt, after this?..

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hope you guys liked this, like i said there will be smut in the next part!!

taglist:

@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed

[thesecretsofthedivine]

Pick a Pile Reading | Messages From Your Future Spouse 💍🪐

Business Carrd 🍶🧺

Paid Services 🍇⭐

Tip Jar 🍾🎱

*Disclaimer: This is a collective reading - take what resonates and leave the rest. If this resonates with you, please show support by reposting (with credit), tipping, or booking with me! :)

*Exchanges with other intuitives/readers are available via dm's

──────

PILE 1 COLLECTIVE

• I love the sound of your laughter.

• You’ve turned me into a more carefree person.

• Let’s spend the day baking/cooking then heading right back to bed to cuddle!

• I feel like we could never have enough quality time together.

• You’re my favorite person in the world.

• I’m addicted to your scent.

• We should start a family (🐾/👶).

• You’re my lock screen.

• I tell all my friends about you. If you checked my notifications, all you’d see is a group chat roasting me for how obsessed I am with you.

• There is no place I’d rather be than here with you in my arms.

• I like to watch you sleep. You just seem so peaceful and still that it’s intensely captivating. I hope you don’t mind 😵‍💫.

~ miscellaneous: earth sign placements. homebodies. 2 introverts or an introvert & an extrovert. hard-working, masculine qualities in your spouse. wholesome domestic moments.

PILE 2 COLLECTIVE

• I want to drown in the sea of your existence.

• Dedicating poetry and art to you — my favorite muse.

• There is nothing in the world that I wouldn’t give to have more time with you.

• I’m afraid of loss/dying, but entering old age with you would make my existence complete.

• Please don’t leave me.

• Can I wake you up early if I’m craving your attention? It’s hard for me to contain my excitement when you look this beautiful/attractive.

• Let’s watch the sunset together and stay up late talking for hours.

• Every detail of your existence does not go unnoticed by me.

• We were meant to love each other in this life/I know that we are past life lovers who have found one another again.

• Come on, baby. Don’t be shy with me.

~ miscellaneous: water sign placements (especially scorpio or for their moon sign). 2 night owls or a night owl & a morning person. hozier songs. romantic moments caught on camera/posted online. artist x muse trope.

PILE 3 COLLECTIVE

• You light me on fire with desire.

• I love teasing you more than anything else in the world.

• You’re my best friend and lover, all wrapped into one.

• My heart feels warm and glows from the inside whenever you’re around.

• I can’t lose you. If I do, I’ll go crazy.

• Let’s go for a drive, listen to music, eat food, and forget about our worries.

• I want to be the first person you call when you’re in trouble.

• I will never judge you.

• We will travel everywhere and make the world our own.

• I want to surprise you with grand gestures (especially via gifts or shared experiences).

~ miscellaneous: fire sign placements. ready or not — bridgit mendler. sneaky smirks that make you smile uncontrollably. spontaneous memories or communication. fluffy hair & tan skin features for some.

PILE 4 COLLECTIVE

• Pulling out all my best jokes just for you.

• Give me a nickname and I’ll give you one back.

• How can I possibly deny your charm?!

• Your style is impeccable. Every time we’re in a shop together, I just want to watch you pose in front of the mirror.

• I’ll make you homemade snacks and share my family’s recipes with you!

• Spoiling you with acts of service.

• We don’t even have to speak to understand one another. Mere eye contact is enough.

• You bring out my (good) crazy side 🤪.

• I love how we can always bounce off each other’s energies so well.

• I wanna give you expensive jewelry or items with my initials on it.

~ miscellaneous: air sign placements. a quirky sense of humor. distinct eyebrows. friends to lovers trope (Monica & Chandler came to mind). latin/hispanic backgrounds for some.

[tikosblogg]

A Helping Hand

Part 2 Here

Summary: you’re in college, still a virgin and frustrated. You just wanna know what sex is like. Noah wants to offer his help.

Warning: oral (f receiving), fingering.

A/N: college boy Noah. HOT AF. Not proof read I apologize for any mistakes. Please enjoy.

The air in the apartment was thick with laughter and the scent of popcorn as me and my only two friends on campus lounged on the couch, binge-watching a new series. The conversation had turned to relationships—everyone was discussing their latest crushes and dating escapades.

I listened, a bit detached, nursing a twinge of envy. The thought of my virginity weighed heavily on my mind.

"I want to know what it’s like," I sighed, glancing down at my half empty drink. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."

My friends exchanged glances, and Clara leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You know, I heard about that guy on campus, Noah Sebastian. He's supposed to be amazing in bed. I’ve heard stories, you should ask him." I rolled my eyes, feeling my insides flutter at the name.

"I am not gonna ask Noah Sebastian to fuck me. I don’t want to feel like some charity case." I sighed. If He asked me, you bet your ass I’d let him. But sadly I’m also aware, that he is way out of my league. Hence why he hasn’t asked me.

I’ve been around him and his friends at parties a bunch of times. We even had a nice long conversation one time about our favorite music. Yet he always found a girl the complete opposite of me to take home.

"Come on! It’s a great way to break the ice," Layna smiled nudging me playfully. "You’d be in good hands!"

I hugged my knees to my chest. "I don’t know. He’s had plenty of chances to ask me, and he hasn’t. He isn’t interested. I’ll probably just go out and find someone at one of the bars in town.”

They both smirk at each other, before quickly changing the subject. I decide to let it go, and join their new conversation. A couple hours later, I walked them to the door, as they gathered their things to leave. Layna turned towards me, pulling me into a hug. “Please just think about asking Noah. I promise you won’t regret it.” Clara nodded, hugging me as well.

I sighed nodding my head. “Yeah yeah, I’ll think about it.” I waved them off as they drove away, making my way back into the apartment. That night I stayed up late, looking up Noah’s socials, going through his pictures like a stalker. “God why are you so hot.” I mumbled under my breath. There is noway I’m asking him.

I entered my apartment, tossing my keys onto the counter. The glow from the livingroom lamp casting a warm hue in the quiet apartment. I settled into the couch, flipping through channels aimlessly as I tried to shake off feelings of loneliness.

Each ding of my phone caught my attention, but I dismissed the notifications as my friends being typical sent: memes, inside jokes, and rants about the day.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the silence. I glanced at the clock—it was unusually late. Hesitantly, I stood up and opened the door, and my heart nearly stopped. There stood Noah, looking hot as usual.

“Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting,” he grinned, his eyes casting down, and slowly back up my body. Confusion washed over me, as I struggled to respond. "Clara and Layna sent me." He chuckled, as my face fell in shock.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remembered our conversation from a few nights ago. “Oh… wow, um, yeah I’m sorry for… this," I stammered. "I didn’t know they’d... well, um…" I trailed off, feeling anxious and down right humiliated.

He chuckled softly, his presence magnetic, making it hard to look away. “It’s alright.”

I shifted, biting my lip, an apology spilling out. "I really didn’t mean for them to set this up. I’m just—I'm…you really don’t have to be here."

“No, I’m mean it’s okay. No pressure, but I’m glad they sent me,” he assured gently, taking a step closer. “I want to be here. And honestly? I’d love to help you.”

My heart raced as I processed his words. This impossibly sexy guy, the one everyone talked about, wanted to help me. The weight of my own inexperience settled heavily on my chest, embarrassment mixing with excitement.

“Noah, I’m really shy about all this. I haven’t—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted softly, tilting his head slightly. “We can take it slow. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. I won't do anything you don’t want to.”

His genuine tone wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing my anxiety. “What if I mess it up, and completely embarrass myself?” I whisper, my face on fire at this point. “I promise, it’s not about perfection. It’s about enjoying the moment. And trust me, the right person makes all the difference.”

The room felt charged with tension, uncertainty melted into curiosity. I took a deep breath and gestured for him to come inside. As he stepped in, I felt a rush of disbelief. This was really happening.

Noah looked around the apartment, his gaze landing on me with an intensity that sent my heart fluttering. “So, what do you want to do first? You’re in complete control right now. We can take it slow tonight. start with the small things, and then next time we can a little further.” he smiled, his voice low and inviting.

I searched his gaze, finding kindness and patience. Next time? He wants to come back? My body fidgeted as I took a step closer. “Um I really don’t even know how to start..” I whispered, my shyness slowly overtaking me.

He smiled, and the warmth in his expression reassured me. “We can take all the time we need. Do you want me to take the lead?” His voice was low and smooth, carrying an invitation wrapped in gentle authority.

I looked up at him, his deep brown eyes searching mine, and felt a rush of warmth spread through me. My heart pounded in response, whispering its consent even before I found the words to say it. Nodding slowly, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coil within me.

With a soft smile, Noah took my hand, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of comfort through me, as he guided me to the couch, the plush fabric a welcoming embrace as I sank into its depths. He threw a behind my head, resting it on the back of the couch. His grip remained gentle yet firm, a reminder of his steady presence.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” he assured me, his voice rich with sincerity. “And if you ever want me to stop, you just say the word, okay?” I nodded again, a small but powerful gesture, and felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was safe here with him.

He leaned closer, his hand gently cupping my cheek, sending another rush of warmth through me. Our eyes locked, and Without breaking our gaze, he began to lean in, and instinctively, I tilted my head to meet him, closing the distance.

His lips brushed softly against mine, a tentative exploration, as if tasting the sweetness of the moment. The kiss deepened gradually, shifting from tender to a more passionate embrace. I found myself melting into it.

He pulled back slightly, and I could feel my breath quicken. The warmth of his palm still lingered on my cheek, and I craved more of his touch. “You okay?” he asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and concern.

I nodded again, a smile breaking across my lips, unable to find words that could capture how I truly felt.

Noah leaned in again, claiming my lips with a newfound urgency that sent my heart racing. I surrendered to the moment, letting him lead. I melted into him, as his hand slowly crept up my thigh, squeezing gently.

A whimper escaped my lips, surprising even me, but it drew a teasing smile from him as he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in that way that made my wet core throb. His gaze was soft, and teasing an invitation to share my thoughts, and yet I felt my cheeks heat up.

With a shy nod, I felt a rush of warmth trickle through me. I was fumbling with my words, my heart racing as he challenged me to speak. “I—I…” I stuttered, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I feel really good.”

His smile widened at my confession, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss before trailing them down my throat. A soft moan escaped me, unexpected yet welcome, as I let my fingers find their way into his soft brown hair.

I gripped it gently, feeling the softness between my fingers, grounding me in this moment that felt unreal.

“Good? Just good?” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers through me. He licked, and nipped along my neck, each time igniting a fire in my veins. I could hardly keep the gasp at bay as his lips danced over sensitive spots, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“More than good,” I finally managed to reply, my voice barely above a whisper, caught between vulnerability and desire. The honesty in my words caused his teasing demeanor to shift, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something more serious.

He raised his head, his eyes locking with mine, stripping away the teasing to reveal a sincerity that made my heart flutter. “I want to make you feel amazing,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over my inner thigh, so close to where I really needed him. “Tell me what you want.”

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them. My breath hitched, and I felt a blend of excitement and insecurity. I wanted him to keep kissing me, to keep this connection alive. “Just—keep doing that,” I whispered, motioning towards his hand on my thigh, my voice cracking just a bit. “But…but higher.” I whispered. 

Noah grinned, a spark of mischief igniting in his eyes. His hand slid up the rest of the way, his thumb pressing directly on my swollen clit through my shorts. “Right there?” His voice was low, and teasing.

His eyes never leaving my face. I let out a whine, nodding my head, as he once more dove back in, planting soft kisses all over my neck and jaw, eliciting soft sounds from me that filled the otherwise quiet living room. With every kiss, and stroke of his thumb, I felt myself unraveling, losing the grip of shyness and diving deeper into the growing intimacy between us.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against my skin, his words swirling around us that made my heart race. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Noah slips from the couch next to me, moving with a sense of purpose that sends a flutter of anticipation through me.

He kneels between my thighs, the warmth of his presence enveloping me as he gently pushes me back until my back rests against the plush fabric of the couch. Pure excitement courses through my veins.

“You want me to take these off?” he asks, his voice low and smooth. I nod my head, unable to form words, my heart racing at the thought of what might happen next. There’s a moment of stillness, as if time itself is holding its breath in anticipation.

With careful hands, Noah reaches for my shorts, and slowly pulls them down, and off. There’s a sense of vulnerability, a rawness in the air. My breath catches, and I can feel the pounding of my heart echoing in the silence that surrounds us.

He gazes at me, his eyes sweeping over my form, a mixture of admiration and desire illuminating his features.

Once my shorts are gone, his eyes land on my undeniably soaked panties, and I feel a surge of warmth flood my cheeks.

There’s something in the way he looks at me – not just with hunger, but with a deep appreciation that makes me feel confident. The moment stretches, electric and charged, and I can see the unspoken questions dancing in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer now, checking in as if the weight of the moment bears heavily on him too. I nod again, feeling any nervousness fade slowly. His presence is grounding, and I find comfort in his gentle demeanor.

He takes his time, studying me as if he’s tracing the shape of my form with his eyes. A shy smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, and I can’t help but feel a sense of empowerment.

“You’re soaked baby,” he groans. His thumb stroking down the wet patch of my panties, mixed with the pet name, sending flutters through my stomach, igniting a warmth that spreads throughout my body.

He leans in closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, hitting my aching cunt. Our gazes lock, before he grips my thighs, pulling them further apart. His lips ghosting my core before placing the softest kiss against it. The soft action sending a desperate whine flying from my lips.

I looked down at him, my breath hitching as he looked up from between my thighs. His deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief and affection, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The vulnerability in that moment was intoxicating.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, sending shivers down my spine.

I felt another soft whine escape my lips, a plea both innocent and desperate. "Please Noah... take them off," I managed to murmur, the words barely forming as they left my lips.

Noah’s smile widened, illuminating his features with a warmth that made my heart flutter. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my thigh. The sensation was electric, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

There was a playful glimmer in his eyes as he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties, moving slowly as if savoring every second. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the anticipation building with each deliberate movement.

Time seemed to slow as he carefully pulled them off, exposing my wet folds to the cool air of the room.

His touch was featherlight, and every instinct in me screamed to draw him closer, to press deeper into the moment. I offered a shy smile, nodding my head encouraging him to continue. Noah’s gaze held mine as he removed the last barrier between us, dropping them to the floor beside the couch.

"Fuck baby," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur that sent a thrill coursing through me.

He bent forward, wrapping his hand softly around my throat, before pulling me forward into a messy kiss. His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting every inch of it. He pulled away, releasing my throat.

His lips dropped down trailing soft kisses along my inner thigh, as his fingers reached up softly rubbing up and down my slit, making whine his name. He paused, looking up at me with that beautiful teasing smile. “You like that baby?” I nodded, my hips bucking slightly.

“Please Noah.” He laughed softly, before slowly reaching up, shoving two of his long fingers, into my mouth. I licked, and sucked on them until they were covered in my spit.

He bit his bottom lip, as he watched me before slowly pulling them out.

Without another word, he ran his wet finger down my slit, and back up softly circling my swollen clit. He watched my reactions closely, with a small smile.

He slid them back down before slowly sinking his middle finger deep inside me. I let out a loud moan, gripping the couch cushions beneath me. “Feel good baby?” He groaned, like he was experiencing just as much pleasure, while doing it.

I slowly ground my hips against his finger nodding my head. “Fuck…yes” he nodded before pulling it out, and shoving in his ring finger in with it. I whimpered at the stretch.

His fingers reaching deeper inside of me than I ever could. He pumped his fingers a little faster, watching my face for any discomfort. I was losing my mind in pleasure. If his fingers felt this amazing, I could only imagine what his dick feels like.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asked, his fingers never slowing down. “Fuck Noah please…please make me cum.” His usual sweet, and playful demeanor suddenly turned dark, as I met his eyes.

His fingers crooked up, hitting that perfect spot, driving me wild. He leaned down, placing a kiss on my throbbing clit, before running his tongue flat from his fingers all the way up to my clit before sucking it into his mouth.

Hips stuttered, as my hands flew to the top of his head. I gripped his hair, tugging on it as he moaned against me, sending vibrations through my clit.

He released with a pop, before flicking it with his tongue softly. “Oh fuck Noah please, right there right there.” I was babbling nonsense over and over, lost in the pleasure of his tongue and fingers.

Noah never let up, pumping his fingers faster. He pressed his tongue flat against my clit, before shaking his head side to side. I instantly lost it, my orgasm hitting its peak. Noah slowed down, and kept a steady pace, and his tongue and fingers continued fucking me through it.

“Fuck baby you taste so good.” He groaned, trying to keep his composure. My thighs shook before closing around his head. When I finally came down, he pulled his lips away, stilling his fingers. I laid there catching my breath, as he sent a proud smile my way. I couldn’t help but smile and blush, realizing what just happened.

I quickly covered my face, laughing softly. He slowly pulled his fingers out, reaching up to remove my hands, before pulling me into another kiss. When he pulled away, he tapped my lips with the two fingers that were just deep inside of me. I opened up, letting him press them against my tongue.

I softly moaned around them, as pulled them out, shoving them between his own lips, cleaning them. I could have came again at the sight. He finally stood back up, sitting back on the couch next to me.

His hand softly gripped my jaw, turning my face towards him “Was that okay?” He smiled, but his question was genuine. The smile on his face was infectious, I couldn’t help but smile myself. “It was amazing.” He let out a soft laugh, leaning down bringing me into another kiss. This kiss was slower but just has needy as the rest. His teeth bit down on my bottom lip, and pulled away letting it pop back in place. “Yeah? You just wait til next.”

[venusiangguk]

the art of trying | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 29.3k 😁

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, oc club era 🪩🥂, oc heart to heart with…, enter mr park seojoon !!, budding friendships 🥰, mending of relationships, enter dilf !!, reconciliation finally, but still we yearn, and jk is still a little stewpid, however!! he is doing his best!!, mostly oc pov i think, warning for a little bit of sad bc she is sad !!, but not too sad 😼, enter jock !!, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank u, etc., fore play in the form of a lil dry humping 🫶🏻, finishes (multiple),, oral (m & f), dirty talk, lovesick gross smitteness 👎🏻, jreampie 👍🏻,  and finally, enter nari !! (🧋)

>>notes: finally am i right 🤣

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: you’re trying to forget jungkook, but he’s trying to make sure you remember why you shouldn’t. 

It’s the middle of January and I haven’t learned to be okay without you, yet. The wind outside is harsh and cold. It hurts my feelings sometimes. 

 It reminds me of you, sometimes, too.

 I still miss you.

 “Girl, what does that even mean?”

 Your laptop gets slammed shut, and you whip your head around to see Binna. Your very best friend that has been caught red-handed, reading over your shoulder.

 “Do you mind?” you say with narrowed eyes.

 “I do actually,” she says, walking around the couch and plopping next to you. 

 You roll your eyes and rephrase with something she’s hopefully less likely to have an answer to. “Can I help you?”

 Binna looks stumped for approximately .4 seconds –not nearly long enough to be satisfying– and then she’s saying, “No, but you can help yourself. Please go to therapy. I am begging you and also I will pay for it.” 

 “Die.”

 “C’mon, you’ve been sad for like almost 2 months,” she groans, “and it’s like… tangible, ___. I walk into the house and I can feel it. It just permeates the air and– look, it even killed the plant.”

 Binna’s pointed finger guides your gaze to the small succulent on the windowsill and it’s a bit pathetic how your eyes start to tear up because it is in fact, the tiny succulent Jeongguk gave you so many months ago. You had done a good job of taking care of it for a while, his occasional texts reminding you to water it had been helpful. But lately you haven’t even really been taking care of yourself, and the little plant has, unfortunately, become collateral damage. 

 You also don’t get those texts anymore.

 With big watery eyes and a fat bottom lip, you turn back to her and she sighs. Grabs the remote and pauses whatever is playing on the tv. This makes Jade squawk, something about her watching it and it being the best part but Binna is having none of it.

 “No, this is actually dire. She’s crying over the plant, Jade. We have to intervene, it’s time.”

 Jade pouts for a moment, looking between the tv and you as if she can’t decide which is more pressing. When she crawls from her place where she was laying on the floor to your feet, it seems her decision is made. She rests her chin on your knee.

 “Still sad over the dilf?” she asks.

 You nod pitifully.

 “She was openly writing melancholy about him… it's a public cry for help,” Binna adds.

 With a nod of understanding, Jade says, “Writing can be a good way to get your thoughts together and work through them.”

 Choosing not to tell them that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to work through all the thoughts because there are just too many and it hurts too bad, you stay quiet.

 It’s not an awkward silence that takes over the living room, but you can tell that Binna and Jade are trying to think of something to say. Jade ends up being the one to interrupt the quiet.

 “Has he reached out to you at all?”

 The unanswered text on your phone started as a temptation, but it’s ended as a little memo that helps put things into perspective. 

 Did you get home okay?

 Jeongguk made his decision and he only sent you that text because he let you leave. 

 He sent you that text after he made it so incredibly clear that he wasn’t going to let you stay in his life.

 Despite you telling him you’d think about things, let him know what you decided in regards to you and him– he really didn’t leave much room for you to do that. He’s hard-headed and he’s extreme and when he makes his mind up about something… it’s not likely anyone will be able to change it. Especially if it has to do with Nari.

 And it’s not like you don’t get it. You do, to some extent at least. 

 Nari is his baby and Nari is his priority. Just like she should be. That’s self-explanatory and easy to understand. If Jeongguk felt you being in his life somehow messed with his priorities and decided it wasn’t going to work out between you two after giving it some thought– it wouldn’t have been easy, but you would have accepted it nonetheless. 

 But part of you believes he didn’t give it much thought at all because one moment he was washing you, taking care of you, kissing you. Making you feel like you were his and he was yours and like he cared. Like he was always going to be there; like he was endless. 

 Then the next he was telling you it was all basically a mistake to him. That he didn’t know if he had the room or the time for you anymore. Like you were an amenity with a timeframe. Something that was worthwhile, until it wasn’t anymore. Something nice that was momentarily useful, something that perhaps made his life better, easier in a way… but something that ultimately wasn’t necessary.  

 The turnaround was too abrupt and too abrasive and too rash for you to accept that it wasn’t impulsive. That he truly thought it through. You think that’s what’s hindering you from moving on. 

 A part of you almost wishes that you could fool yourself into believing he did mull it over. That he simply ‘changed his mind’. Because that’s better than the uncertainty that comes with him cutting you out so heedlessly. 

 If Jeongguk had a change of heart– it means that, at one point, his heart was sure of you; his heart did want you. 

 It’s deceiving, but it hurts less than the uncertainty. 

 The ache that comes with longing for what was is concrete and irrefutable in a bittersweet sense because at least in that case, what you’re yearning for was something that you had; something that was real. 

 You can’t pinpoint the pain that comes with uncertainty. There’s too much room for doubt, too many times you can mistake a ‘what if’ for a ‘what was’. There are too many ways you can spin the past if you’re not certain of it. Too many different outcomes you can craft. There are too many ways that uncertainty can hurt

 Jeongguk’s 180 took place barely within a few hours. Specific changes were instantaneous. Like the quiet unease that shrouded the atmosphere; the quick developing doubt that inevitably tainted both your affections. In all honestly, you could feel the shift as soon as he walked into the playroom after talking to Nari’s mom.

 Dasom.

 The things you feel when you think about her make you feel so ugly. Like your heart is rotten within your core, ruining you from the inside because it’s so easy to blame her and resent her for everything that occurred. Easy to pin the earth-shattering, tectonic shift in your and Jeongguk’s dynamic on her. It’s easy to hate her for the things she said about you, for the thoughts she put into Jeongguk’s head. But deep inside, right next to your rotten heart, there’s something small that’s telling you it’s easiest to hate her because you aren’t her. 

 An achy heaviness levels in your gut and you press your eyes shut tightly, consciously making an effort to not tear up. It still hurts so badly. In a way you don’t even really understand. You’re not sure if it stems from jealousy or insecurity or maybe both. 

 But there is something so excruciatingly painful, something that feels so devastatingly unfair, about Jeongguk and Dasom.

 It’s absurd and it’s stupid to let an ex get to you. You know that and you’re aware that it’s the past and that it’s over between them… but when you think about all of the history? It’s enough to overthink and compare. To wonder ‘what if?’, ask yourself ‘why?’ and ‘does he still?’.  

 Because they loved each other; were in love with each other. They had the sweetest little baby girl together. Dasom will always know Jeongguk in a way that you won’t. She will always know versions of him that you never will. She will always have a part of him and be a part of his life. She will always know him longer than you. No matter what –even if you and Jeongguk had stayed together, fallen in love, and gotten married– she was still there first. In a sense, you won’t ever be able to catch up to her– to them or what they had.

 You almost have to laugh at yourself for thinking like that because it’s so pathetically dramatic and pointless. Because yes, letting an ex get to you is both absurd and stupid. But especially so when you let it get to you after months. 

 Bitterly, you consider that maybe Jeongguk was right. Maybe you were too young for him, and maybe you really weren’t ready for everything that came with him.

 When your thoughts are reeled back in, you tell Jade about Jeongguk’s text you never answered.

 “God what a whore,” Binna groans. “What kind of person asks that after cutting you out of their life?”

 “A man,” Jade reasons.

 It makes you chuckle a small laugh, and the silence that settles this time is a little more comfortable. A couple of minutes pass with the three of you pretending to watch Jade’s show when Binna clears her throat.

 She tries to keep her voice light and casual, acts as if she’s just making conversation. “You’ve been lurking, no?”

 She will be disappointed when you admit that you’ve tried. But she’ll also be pleased to know that you simply can’t.

 “He doesn’t have Instagram.” You shrug your shoulders as if it’s not a big deal and like your recently searched isn’t full of accounts that have some variation of Jeongguk’s name in the user.

 “He probably has Facebook, he’s old,” Jade says absently, eyes glued to the television once again.

 Binna gets a worried look on her face when she can physically see the lightbulb go off in your head. Then her expression shifts into one of tired disapproval. “Thank you for that, Jade.”

 Jade’s reply is simply a preoccupied, half-hearted ‘My bad’.

 But you do not care and your phone is already out. 

 You’re trying to move on, you are. Truly. One peek won’t hurt. Also–

 “He’s not old, he’s only 29,” you say distractedly, waiting for the app to download before the phone is promptly plucked from your hands. “Hey–”

 “Give me that,” Binna interrupts, “If you look him up, you will come up in his ‘people you may know’. I don’t want that for you, and you don’t want that for you. Trust me.”

 With a frowny pout on your face, you settle back into that couch. “Well… I don’t want you coming up in whatever that is either, right?” 

 “You do not need to worry about that because I am a professional and I am crazy. What’s his last name again?”

 Professional and crazy sound like adjectives that are not supposed to go together, but you don’t argue and when she pulls out her own phone, you answer her. 

 Binna’s sleuthing seems to be entertaining enough for Jade to abandon her show, moving from her place at your feet to a seat next to Binna looking over her shoulder. Nervousness keeps you from joining, quietly just waiting for the few moments it takes for Binna to find what she’s looking for. 

 “Ah! Jeon Jeongguk, 30, C–” she gasps, eyes wide as she looks at you, “you didn’t tell us he was a CEO!”

 You shrug. “Didn’t seem important. And I told you already, he’s 29. Not 30.”

 Binna’s brows furrow before she’s looking at her phone again, bringing it close to her face and using her thumbs to zoom in on the profile picture. “Is this not him?”

 “No, that’s him,” Jade confirms, face close to Binna’s. “I’ve seen enough pictures of him in the groupchat that I also see him in my dreams.”

 “Please don’t dream about him,” you say musingly, reaching to snatch the phone from Binna just like she did to you.

 It is in fact your Jeon Jeongguk pictured on the phone. His profile picture is candid, him smiling wide with those puffs under his eyes, probably mid-laugh. But it still seems professional enough, he’s in one of his many expensive suits, with his tie on, and his hair done sleek.

 And you can feel how a small, sad smile comes to rest on your lips. You carefully click on the picture to see when it was posted.

 Just a couple of weeks ago. 

 And the small, sad smile gets even smaller and even sadder. He looks happy enough, and you hope he is. But it stings a little for some reason. 

 Then you remember why you pilfered the phone in the first place.

 Looking over his profile, you see the basic information. His alumn, his job, his hometown. You click the ‘about info’ option below all of that and it’s then that you see his birthday, and that his age is indeed 30. And you feel silly, a little embarrassed, for not knowing. Or maybe forgetting?

 Though, you’re almost positive you didn’t forget. That you wouldn’t have forgotten something like his birthday. That you couldn’t have because Jeongguk was your favorite person. 

 You trade Binna her phone back for yours.

 The photos in your camera roll on his alleged birthday are from what you thought was a random day that Jeongguk asked you to come over.

 It was kinda spontaneous for him. Considering he was someone that usually liked to plan, getting a random phone call from him while you were still at work was out of character. He simply asked if you wanted to come over. Just laze around with him, watch a movie, or something. Stay the night, maybe. He sounded slightly boyish when he asked, like he was trying to mask the hopeful excitement in his voice. You told him yes, of course, but that you wouldn’t be able to come until after work. 

 When you showed up at his, still clad in your work uniform, he was beaming. You barely made it through the door before he was literally giving you the shirt off his back to change into, helping you out of your polo and khakis.

 In the photo you’re looking at, your head is in Jeongguk’s lap and he’s shirtless looking at the tv with his hand over your mouth. You had been purposefully asking too many questions, just like you always did. The picture was taken from below so the angle is a little funny.

 And even though you’re smiling at the memory, the image turns blurry as you start to tear up. Something about it warms your heart while simultaneously breaking it. 

 Apparently, he didn’t want gifts, or anything extravagant. Seeing as he omitted telling you it was the one day of the year that everything was supposed to be about him, the one day he was supposed to be doted on. Jeongguk just wanted to be with you. Just your company was enough for him. Just you were enough for him.

 “He never told me it was his birthday, but he asked me to come over,” you tell your friends, with your thumb swiping through the many pictures you took that day. “Like me just being there was a good enough birthday present or something?”

 Jade can hear the waver in your voice, and she gently says, “Maybe we shouldn’t look at old pics if it’s going to make us sad, hmm?”

 “Maybe we should delete them, hmm?” Binna chirps.

 You hear them but you continue till you get through the whole night and the next morning. The tears are so heavy in your eyes, but you try to laugh, dabbing at your waterline with your sleeve when you say, “I like– really miss him, guys,” before you end up just covering your face with your palms and letting yourself have your moment.

 Jade coos, scooching closer to you, pulling you to her side. She rubs your shoulder soothingly. “I know you do, ___,” she says quietly. 

 Your roommate has really come a long way since the first conversation you had with her about Jeongguk. The other roommate, however, seems like she is regressing. 

 “We have got to get you out of the house and onto another dick. Your vibrator is tired and your pillow probably smells like the ocean because of all the tears it’s soaked up. It probably needs a wash, too.”

 “Binna!” Jade scolds.

 “No, like I’m so serious right now,” Binna defends, “I understand being sad over a breakup, but it’s been months. And over a grown man who lets his literal ex-wife, whom he divorced, still have such a pull on him? Like c’mon. What the fuck is that?”

 “She’s allowed to be sad! And those things you listed make her sadness even more warranted. You were holed up in your room for months too, at one point,” Jade reminds, “But it was over a boyband breaking up.”

 “In hindsight, it was very good for Zayn to leave,” Binna amends before giving you her attention. “Listen I get it, but I just want you to be happy again… You know?”

 When you peek up at her with a sniffle, she looks sad.

 “I don’t want you to get stuck in the sad and the hurt, ___,” she says quietly, “because sometimes when people get stuck in the sad and in the hurt, they can’t like– get unstuck. You know? Nothing gets better. The depression just swallows them and they don’t ever feel better and– I want you to feel better.”

 Binna’s not the most eloquent, but she has the biggest heart. And you know she means well, and despite how stuck in the sad and the hurt you truly are, you know that she does have a point. 

 You have to brood over it for a moment, and you kind of feel like you’re outside of your body when you agree. Like you’re hearing someone else say, “Okay, where are we going?”

 ~~~

 The club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. Your feet hurt because the heels you’re wearing are too high. You figured the weeks following New Year’s would be less crowded, that everyone would be recovering from blackouts and bad decisions. The sheer number of people around you tells you otherwise. You’re not having a good time. 

 When you tell your roommates as much, their response is handing you a shot. A few shots.

 And since alcohol is essentially magic, with every shot glass that is emptied down your throat, the night grows more enjoyable and less likely to be remembered. The lights turn pretty, and the ache in your feet becomes dull and muted, just like the one in your heart. 

 You’re dancing how a person who doesn’t know how to would. Hips swaying, arms occasionally going above your head before slinking back down and over your body. The bass in the club makes it feel like everything is vibrating and it makes you laugh dumbly, eyes squeezing shut as you giggle to yourself. You know Binna and Jade are close by, but it feels like you’re in your own little world.

 “I feel good,” you yell over the music to no one in particular. Eyes still closed, a loose-lipped smile lingering at the corners of your mouth.

 The warmth of a body can be felt behind you, though it’s not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into the touch, the heat, a little more. A chiffon chuckle is puffed over the crown of your head. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm, their grip trying to steady you.

 “You look good, too,” the body behind you says, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin.

 You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation, at the words. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.

 When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.

 The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.

 “Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “I– yeah, um… thanks, you too.”

 You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.

 His other hand is moving, too, and your track it till it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “I’m Seo-joon,” he tells you.

 Introducing yourself is the automatic reply he gets, and he hums, eyes scanning your face. The hand that tucked your hair trails down your arm until his fingers meet yours. They flirt for a moment before they lace together. His movements seem shy, but they’re actually very calculated. Well practiced. Like he does this a lot. Like he knows exactly how to get what he wants. 

 The realization sobers you some. Not enough to clear all of the drunken fog in your head, but enough to make you vaguely more alert. 

 “I think you’re a… a little too good at this for me, Mr. Seo-joon.” 

 Seo-joon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child who’s been caught in a lie. Then he’s recovering, laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “I don’t know, you might be the one that’s too good? Too smart? Read me like an open book.”

 There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sluggishly, eyelids heavy. 

 “Are you not?” you ask him, coquettishly referring to him being easy to read. “Aren’t you here for the usual?”

 He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging, like there’s no point in denying the obvious. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he asks, “And why are you here, ___? The usual, as well?”

 Seo-joon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 

 “I’m here to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”

 He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That’s about as ‘usual’ as it gets, ___,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”

 And when he molds his lips to yours, you expect the kiss to feel as good as the lead-up. 

 You expect the butterflies in your belly to flutter wildly– not go still. You expect the hands roaming over your body to feel rousing– not misplaced, like they aren’t supposed to be there. When you open your mouth to let him lick inside, you expect it to feel right. But it doesn’t. Sure, it doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily. But it doesn’t feel like it should. He doesn’t feel like he should.

 But you want him to. You want Seo-joon to feel right, and you want him to feel good. You want it so badly that you go home with him. 

 ~~~

 The cab ride is nothing but a precursor– something that needs to happen but not something that needs to be remembered. It’s just a soft blur that prequels his soft bed, his soft kisses, his soft pets. 

 Seo-joon is being gentler than he was at the club. 

 Under the hazy hue of the club lights, the strong hands that tugged at the straps of your dress were confident, cunning, audacious, and assertive. Boldly expectant of the outcome he was so sure he would get. 

 Under his sheets, those same hands are… not exactly timid, but ginger with their eagerness. Delicate, imploring, coy, and suggestive; tactfully encouraging, rather than expecting, the outcome that he hopes for. The way his hips brush against yours is unhurried and intentional. The crass, dirty movements from before that were careless and unrefined are long gone. Now he’s patient. Grinding into you slowly, deliberate.

 However, the change in pace, in the scenery, and in his demeanor– none of it makes the kisses taste any sweeter; none of it makes the touches feel any better; none of it makes anything good enough in the effortless way you long for. 

 It’s counterintuitive but the lack of ease, paired with the desire for it, just makes you try harder. Redouble your efforts.

 You press your lips against his in a kiss that’s harder, dig your nails into his shoulders with a grip that’s harder. When you cant your hips up against his just so– you do it harder. He gets a little harder in his pants, and the thoughts in your head get a little harder to ignore. Faking gets harder and pretending does too.

 Seo-joon is smart enough. He’s probably been around enough, too. With experience under his belt, it doesn’t take him long to sense the shift. The way your energy dulls, the slight tension tugging at your frame underneath him. But still, it doesn’t stop him from testing the waters one more time, giving you a few more unsure, assessing kisses. 

 To no avail.

 With furrowed brows, he pulls away. Seo-joon doesn’t look angry, though. Just confused as he braces himself on his forearms, lifting himself just enough to be able to take you in, most of his body weight still resting atop you.

 He clears his throat. “You don’t uh– you don’t really… seem to be– into this? Anymore? Into me?” 

 Your expression probably mirrors his. Confused, and maybe a little lost as you study him. Because he’s handsome. Almost unbelievably so, with his high cheekbones and sharp eyes; his nose and mouth that appear perfectly placed; his smooth, airbrushed skin.

 You should be into him. Superficially at the very least.

 But you just aren’t because even though he is handsome, flawless even, he’s attractive in a very ordinary, classical way. There doesn’t seem to be anything signature about Seo-joon’s features. 

 When he smiled at the club, it was idyllic and exactly symmetrical. His cheeks filled out, but just enough. His teeth –a dentist’s dream– were pristine, perfectly proportioned, and all of them just the right size. So white that they were almost beaming in the dim lights. 

 And even now, when he attempts an uneasy one to shake awkwardness it’s… fine. His plush lips are fine and his straight nose is fine and his even brows are fine and everything about Seo-joon is perfectly fine. 

 But, to you, he’s not really anything special. 

 Surface level, Seo-joon’s perfectly fine. But so are so many other perfectly fine, classically beautiful, ordinary men. There’s nothing that sets him apart. No defining characteristics, nothing about Seo-joon that makes him him. 

 Yet you can’t stop yourself from thinking that even if there were, it wouldn’t matter. 

Because you already know what makes someone special to you. 

 You’re well aware of the distinctive features that make your heart flutter. Like when someone smiles and their bottom lip tugs down just a hint farther on the left side. Or when they get little rounds under their eyes and scrunch their nose when they laugh. When he has things about himself that are slightly imperfect. Like big front teeth or a barely off-center freckle under his bottom lip. Like the deep scar on his cheek that he got from his brother when they were little. Or the faint one by his eyebrow from the piercing he had in college that had to be taken out before it was yanked out by a tiny hand. 

 The man you’re sharing a bed with could be the most uniquely attractive person on earth and it wouldn’t make a difference. It still wouldn’t make him special– not to you. 

 He’s not what you want.

 You hum when you admit it to yourself. 

 “I’m not.”

 Momentarily, Seo-joon looks taken aback by your seemingly rash rethink, but he takes your drunken bluntness in stride. He gives you a forced smile before he hangs his head in an apologetic bow, shifting from on top of you to lay next to you. “I see, I’m sorry if I assumed or overstepped or made you feel like you had to come home with m–”

 Seo-joon sounds guilty, and it surprises you when a hint of guilt starts to bloom in your chest.

 “You didn’t!” you interrupt, “I thought I was into you… or like I should be into you…”

 His eyebrow quirks and he just looks at you.

 “Ah…” you muse awkwardly, scanning the room. 

 It’s so very bachelor. Dark furniture, a big tv mounted on the wall, a little bar cart off to the side next to the mini fridge that’s kinda big to be called ‘mini’. Nothing personal at all that could tell you anything about him, except the boxers on the floor that tells you he prefers Armani. No hint as to what his goals or his hobbies are. 

 Perhaps it's a good thing you didn’t sleep with Seo-joon. Guys like him have the most brutal post-nut clarity and you’re not sure you could take another grown man hurting your feelings. 

 “I just don’t want you to think like– I don’t know? That you did something wrong? Or that you like coerced me into coming h–” 

 “Wait, I didn’t think that–”

 “–I’m the one that should be sorry!” you assure him, “Because I don’t think I actually went out to try and forget someone; I think I was trying to find them?”

 A couple of stilted seconds pass. 

 “In… me?” he asks, like he’s mentally trying to puzzle the pieces together.

 “I guess? Maybe replace them with you? Or like… use you… as a placeholder?” You wince helplessly at your choice of words, unable to stop them before they spill out. 

 Seo-joon’s confusion is replaced by a quick, bright laugh which is followed by a small smile that seems almost pitying. 

 “You’re still young–”

 You physically cannot stop the way you interrupt him with.

 “Please shut the fuck up.”

 The tired words are spat tartly before you can clench your teeth around them. It’s probably a defense mechanism– you’re not quite sure you can handle another grown man being mean to you, but you’re almost very sure that you can’t handle one lecturing you about how young you are, about how much life you still have left to live, about how your youth makes it difficult to know what you really want, about how–

 “Whoa,” he laughs. He’s on his side, his head propped up on his palm. He eyes you for a moment before he tugs the strap of your bra back up, haphazardly covering you again. “Sore spot?” 

 Pulling his sheets up for good measure, you pout. “He was older.”

 Seo-joon makes a noise of understanding. “Older like… older brother’s friends older? Or older like met him at your dad’s work party older?”

 Heat floods the rounds of your cheeks and you look anywhere but at the man next to you. No photos in frames. Not even a dvd collection that could tell you what type of movies he likes.

 “He’s like– dad old,” you murmur, chancing a glance at Seo-joon only to see him pull a queasy-looking face, and then you’re backtracking to defend yourself. “But only like baby-dad old! Not like– teenager-dad old!”

 He looks unconvinced. “How big’s the gap?”

 “7 years?” you try.

 Seo-joon goes from unconvinced to shocked and then to puzzled. “That’s like… nothing? Probably around our gap too?”

 Your hands fly up and you scoff a little as you exasperate, “That’s what I said!”

 He joins in and you both laugh in his bed until the giggles putter out into lazy silence. You’re pulling at a little tuft of lint when he hums.

 “He told you that you were too young?”

 You open your mouth to reply immediately, but then hesitate. 

 Because your age was part of it. Of course, it was, but was it all of it? Was it the root of it?

 “I mean you are; not too young, just… young. But–” Seo-joon grins smugly, giving you a pointed look when he sees you scowl, “–youth isn’t a bad thing. And you’re smart. I meant it when I said that.”

 Rolling your eyes, you say, “We literally just met–”

 “Yeah, and?” he counters, just for the sake of it because he still doesn’t allow a reply. “We only just met and I could already tell that you were smart. Even though I tried, I knew my… methods wouldn’t work on you. You read me like an open book,” he repeats what he said earlier that night, before speaking slowly like he’s spelling something out for you. “and I’m sure I’m not the only one you’re able to read like that?”

 Your scowl intensifies. “What are you getting at?”

 “This boy you’re trying to ‘forget’? ‘Find’?” The hand that’s not supporting him comes up and he makes some air quotes. His tone is a little softer, like maybe he’s trying to be gentle. Or maybe he’s just tired of talking to you. You can’t be sure.

 “I feel like you’re smart enough to know if the whole thing is worth it or not. How long ago was it?”

 “A month or 2… give or take 17 days…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

 “Okay. But yeah… that’s a good chunk of time…” he says around a quick yawn. Then he hums thoughtfully to himself. “I feel like you could think back and read the situation a bit more clearly now? Like, reassess it to… you know… I don’t know just figure stuff out…”

 “‘You know, I don’t know’, ‘Just figure stuff out’, ” you mimic dryly, “That’s all the advice you have to offer me when you’ve lived lifetimes longer than me?”

 “Listen, you can’t hate all men because of one man–”

 “Yes, I ca–”

 “Okay but, you don’t even hate that one man? That’s the whole issue?” Seo-joon interrupts. He lilts his tone up in an inquisitive manner, like he wants you to confirm. 

 You refuse and choose to reply with petulant silence.

 “Exactly. C’mon, use that big, smart brain in that pretty, little head of yours,” he encourages, “Look back and just figure stuff out. It might be hard, but not as hard as you think. I feel like time away from what we think we need or want, always puts things into perspective. Distance makes the heart fonder, or–” He pauses for dramatic effect. “It makes the heart indifferent.”

 Not rolling your eyes is a feat, but you manage. “Clearly my heart did not become indifferent if I am laid up with you and still going on about it.”

 Seo-joon hums again, carries on some more. But you’re not paying attention because maybe time didn’t put things into perspective, but his words just did.

 Distance and time make the heart indifferent.

 Jeongguk hasn’t been to your store once since you left his house. 

 You frown, connecting imaginary dots as a little wrinkle sprouts between your brows. “He hasn’t come to see me since he cut things off.”

 Seo-joon pauses mid-sentence, mimes your expression. “Did you expect him to?”

 You pause now. 

 “Um… kinda?” you start. Rolling to your side you copy his position so you can look at him. “I mean, I work at the grocery store he would normally shop at,” you explain, before tacking on, “That’s where we met. He lost his baby and I found her… Or– she found me I guess.”

 A small twinge of pain pricks your heart at the mention of Nari. You wonder if she’s talking, or if she’s at least getting closer. If she still doesn’t keep the sock on her left foot, or if she’s grown out of that nerve-wracking yet endearing little habit of hers. 

 What Dasom said about Nari getting attached comes to mind and you hope the little one is doing well. It hurts a little to think about, but you hope for her sake, that she didn’t get too attached or too sad when you stopped coming around. You hope she forgot you quickly.

 “Anyway,” you say, “Guess that means his heart became indifferent.”

 Giving a half-hearted shrug with a single shoulder, aiming to come off unbothered. Trying to act indifferent yourself, and like your heart didn’t just drop. You blink a couple of times in an attempt to clear the glassiness you know is cloaking your eyes and offer a weak smile.

 Regarding you with a slightly concerned color to his features, Seo-joon chooses to not address the passing mention of a misplaced child or the fact that you’re very close to crying while half-naked in his bed. Decidedly, he says, “I’m not sure if I would call avoidance indifference.”

 You sniffle. “Huh?”

 His eyes narrow and he looks like he’s debating something internally. Then he sighs. “Listen, I’m not trying to encourage you to wait for him or go back to him. Or like… give you false hope–”

 “Gee, thanks–”

 “No really,” he stresses, “because that genuinely could be nothing. Men are a bit dense. They do things that may seem calculated, but in actuality, they’re just daft and it didn’t even cross their mind. But in my opinion,” he continues slowly, a bit hesitantly, “Choosing to not go to the grocery store he –I’m assuming– frequented regularly? Right after a breakup?” He sucks a bit of air in through his teeth before he shakes his head. “Yeah, that seems like a very deliberate choice.”

 “Like indifference would be more–” he continues before pausing briefly to choose the right words, “I picture indifference as more of– him still going to your work, despite the breakup, because he just doesn’t give a fuck.”

 Whatever words you were planning to say get caught in your throat and you cough out a short laugh at Seo-joon’s straightforwardness. 

 He grins a little. “Right? Because that’s what it is– a lack of interest, lack of concern. Like he just doesn’t care one way or the other about you being there because you’re not important enough for him to be affected by you.”

 You know he’s speaking in hypotheticals, but it still sours your expression. Makes your lips pull down at the corners.

 “Personally, if I were him and I was truly indifferent, truly unbothered,” he places his hand on his bare chest, “you being there or not being there wouldn’t be significant enough for me to alter my routine.”

 Your eyes flit quickly over Seo-joon’s torso. His gesture causes the sheet to fall slightly, pooling at the subtle curve of his waist. There’s a faint warmth flooding your cheeks as you swiftly and intently bring your gaze back up. 

 You swallow before replying with a simple, “Ah… yes… that makes perfect sense.”

 Playfully, Seo-joon scowls at you. “You sure you don’t want to fuck?”

 “Yup.”

 “It may help–”

 “Nope, don’t think it will actually.”

 He shrugs, an amused grin still lingering. “Suit yourself–”

 “I feel like your post-nut clarity would hurt my feelings and I’m vulnerable right now.”

 It’s silent for 1, 2, 3 seconds before Seo-joon’s loud laughter echoes in his room. Failing to keep a straight face, he rolls on his back and rests his head on his pillow as he lets himself laugh to his heart’s content. Then he inhales deeply and scrubs a hand over his face and swipes a finger beneath his bottom lashes; catching his breath and regaining his composure and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. 

 A few seconds pass before he’s turning his head to look at you with a quiet smile. It feels a bit too tender, too sincere, and too heartfelt, for what was supposed to be a one-night-stand. 

 “See,” he says softly, “told you you were smart.”

 You just look at him, trying to read him like he’s so sure you can. There doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motives, just him being genuinely kind to you because he wants to be. And for some reason that makes your eyes burn.

 “If it doesn’t hurt too badly to revisit everything that went on with the boy,” Seo-joon begins, interrupting the light hush that settled between the two of you, “I really feel like you’ll be able to see things clearer; read the situation better. Figure stuff out. And then, things will start to fall into place for you. Everything will start to make a little more sense. You’ll know if you’re wasting your time being hung up on him, and if it’s worth your happiness. You’ll know if looking for him is worth the effort, and you’ll be sure that ‘finding’ him is actually what you want after all.”

 You’re definitely going to cry.

 “And when I said you were still young, and that your youth wasn’t a bad thing,” he continues, “I meant that if you decide that you do want to look for him, and you do find him again– you still have enough time to try with him again.”

 With a wobbly bottom lip, you feel your features slowly morph into a scowl.

 It’s self-directed because it’s then that you think about what’s happening and how ridiculous it all seems.

 Because why are you on the tail end of being drunk, half-naked in the bed of a grown man who you met just hours ago? Why are you telling him bits and pieces about the person he was supposed to distract you from? The person that caused you the most delicately painful ache that’s been festering for months? Why are letting this man give you advice? Why are you letting him comfort you? And why does it feel like he’s done a better job of it by just listening to you for the last few hours, than friends you’ve had for years? 

 And why do you feel like you’re going to cry about it?

 The self-directed scowl morphs to a Seo-joon-directed glare.

 “He’s not a boy,” you begin in a voice that shakes just a hint, arguing just to be difficult, “he’s a man with the cutest baby and he’s 30 now and–” The urge to cry cuts you off and you feel the first tear leak from the corner of your eye. 

 Seo-joon’s soft, sincere smile turns slightly sad as he tracks the salty drop. “Hey, don’t cry–”

 “Shut-up,” you spout, your tone somewhere in between short and like you’re begging him to be quiet because it was him speaking that brought you to this state in the first place. 

 A short staring contest ensues.

 “Also– I bet you would’ve been the worst fucking one-night stand,” you add on for good measure. 

 Seo-joon’s ability to keep from laughing is impressive. It’s only for a second that an amused smile overtakes his features– a natural reflex he isn’t able to stop. But it’s barely there at all before he’s schooling his features into something that he hopes looks receptive, like he’s taking in what you’re saying, absorbing it like it’s Gospel. 

 But he’s also a curious motherfucker, and he wants to know why you think that. 

 “That is baseless and an unfounded assumption,” he defends himself, because he may be receptive, but he is also a damn good one-night stand. “With that being said, please tell me why you feel that way.”

 “Because I’m crying! And it’s because of you! You and your making of us bare our fucking souls during pillowtalk! Who does that?!” 

 It’s huffy and snippy and you both know you’re being mean just for the sake of it. 

 With lips pressed into a tight, smile-proof line, Seo-joon nods easily; agreeable and understanding.

 He knows you’re fragile and that you’re tired– so he chooses not to voice how he considers what you talked about very surface level. How he thinks you may be more hurt and affected by whatever took place between you and this guy than you even realize yet. How he feels like you still have so much to work through, so much to learn.

 Seo-joon lets you win and reminds himself that, right now, it’s not his job to help you soothe the things that hurt or fix the things that are broken. Reminds himself that you’re smart enough to figure stuff out on your own.  

 There’s a brief lull in the conversation that’s not as awkward or tense as it probably should be.

 You sniffle. Then you hiccup.

 And Seo-joon laughs, loud and brash and fond as he leans towards you. He gives you what feels like a platonic kiss on your forehead. 

 “Can I get your number?”

 ~~~

 It’s an early Thursday morning in late January and Jeongguk is feeling troubled. Plagued, if you will, as he towels off after his morning shower. Plagued with the ever-growing, ever-evolving urge to check up on you. To see how you’re doing.

 Lurking, as Taehyung calls it, doesn’t happen all that often. Jeongguk makes a point to not let himself do it daily. Or even weekly. It was his New Year’s resolution, in fact. That being said, it’s been exactly 12 days since he’s used his friend’s 8-year-old son’s instagram account to see what you’ve been up to.

 Typically, he can talk himself out of the sudden notion. Put it off until he forgets, or just doesn’t feel he needs to so badly anymore. Currently, however, he’s blaming his inability to nix the restlessness in his fingertips on the fact that he hasn’t had Nari around to keep him busy. It’s been a long week.

 Because Jeonggk’s been doing his best to keep himself from opening your page for what feels like days. Resisting the pesky pull even though he doubts you’ve even posted. Out of the times he’s given in over the last few weeks, he thinks you’ve posted maybe once. And it was just a picture of some clouds at that– vaguely heart-shaped, wispy, white puffs against sky-blue. The caption was just two emojis, the wind-face lady next to the white heart. 

 So frankly, even though he’s not exactly keen on how strong and itchy the urge to check on you is– he’s also not exactly sure why he’s fighting it. Not when merely scratching it isn’t going to change anything. 

 After shrugging on his work blazer, Jeongguk admits defeat– his inner demons having won yet again. He resigns to apathetic, easily accepted complacency as he swipes through the pages on his home screen till he gets to the very last one that houses the small, sunset-colored camera app. He figures he should probably just get it over with.  

 As he touches the application open, Jeongguk reasons that he’s just been putting off the inevitable– that he knows an itch can’t be ignored and that it won’t be quelled until it’s scratched or soothed. Tells himself that a quick peek before heading out for work won’t matter.

 As he clicks on the mini magnifying glass at the bottom of the screen, Jeongguk reminds himself of lurking’s insignificance. Thinks back to all the times he’s done it before and how it never made a difference. 

 As he sorts through the random selection of 8-year-old boy searches till he finds your user in the mix, he reassures himself that checking on you won’t do anything but alleviate the nagging in the back of his head and the tingling in his fingertips. 

 As he taps your profile, he convinces himself that lurking will be relieving and nothing more.

 As Jeongguk sees that you have posted, he realizes that this time, lurking does matter and that he is so very stupid for assuming it would bring him relief.

 The picture is blurry, not unlike a handful of others he’s seen on your feed. 

 But the setting captured is new. The pink-tinted lighting isn’t familiar, and neither is the purple and blue hues. The crowd you captured is much more… abundant than what he’s become accustomed to seeing when he pulls up your page. 

 Jeongguk scans the photo for just a bit longer and then swipes to the next one in the post. This one is the final stupid nail in the coffin of Jeongguk’s stupid demise. The couple shot glasses grouped together in blurry cheers are all the confirmation he needs to know exactly where you were. His eyes flick to your caption, and then his features pull into a pensive frown with furrowed brows.

 BUT FOUR DRINKS IM WASTED !! 

 Jeongguk taps open the comments.

 flickthebinna: you’ve had exactly two (2) shots

ocstagram: i am Wasted !! 🤬

jadedjade: can u let her be wasted and focus on getting our drinks @flickthebinna 🤨

 He can’t help but chuckle at your and your friends’ interactions, but as he closes the app he catches himself doing a certain habit of his. The little tick where he tilts his head and juts his jaw out quickly. His telltale sign of irritation.

 Irritated with himself, of course. Partly because of the obvious. The spying (from a child’s social media account nonetheless), the moping that he’s been doing for months, the procrastinating and avoiding that’s been going on for almost just as long. 

 But also because he feels so embarrassingly immature for allowing what he finds out from the spying to affect him so deeply. It seems so very juvenile to get this worked up over an instagram post. 

 He’s irritated at the emotional rush and the way his hands are shaking. At the way his mind is jumping to conclusions and conjuring up all sorts of sour scenarios. He’s irritated with himself for the way unwarranted jealousy burns in his chest. 

 The irritation stews; sits in the passenger seat as he makes the drive to work– right next to the sudden instinct to act on a restless whim. The irritation festers; accompanies the worsening impulsive urge that makes it hard to think and ultimately pushes him to make a wrong turn. 

 The irritation is only sated when he pulls up to a curb and his car comes to a stop. 

 Jeongguk’s irritated with himself for a lot of things. But mostly because it took him so long to get here.

 ~~~

 He’s not sure why he anticipated you answering the door. Karma wouldn’t be so kind, and he wouldn’t be so lucky. Obviously.

 “And why the fuck are you here?” This is how Binna greets him, after taking him in with a groggy, borderline bored stare. 

 With a wince, Jeongguk tries, “Hi Binna–”

 “Don’t you have a job?” she interrupts, the volume of her tone increasing with every word. “Aren’t you so busy? So busy, in fact, that it’s so hard to find the time for–”

 He opens his mouth to try and get a word in but stops abruptly. So does Binna when she feels a soft hand on her shoulder, and hears a grumpy ‘Why are you being so loud?’.

 Right in front of him, you’re still half-asleep. Drowsily using the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing to rub over your face tiredly. Seeing as he decided to show up at a little past 8 in the morning.  

 After a few slow, dreamy blinks, you direct your attention to Jeongguk and he feels like he can’t breathe.

 It’s unconscious, how his lips turn up a smidge when he really sees you for the first time in what feels like forever. When he sees the warmth that lives inside of you color your skin with the softest, natural flush. 

 Jeongguk is still so jealous. 

 He watches you and he studies you. Now that he’s not relying on his memories or the pictures in his camera roll or the ones on your socials– he’s trying to pick out what’s the still same; how you’ve changed. Your hair is a bit longer, a shade or two darker as well. Maybe it’s the big hoodie you’ve got on, but you look smaller than he remembers. In his chest, he feels his heart tug but he can’t dwell on it too much as he refocuses on your features beginning to stir. 

 They shift from dazedly blank to shocked, as if your still-sleepy brain has just now registered him being there, and the smallest gasp sounds from your lips. Then an expression that’s a cross between confused and angry takes the place of prior surprise. The doe-ish look becomes sharp and stern; your narrowed eyes are framed above by scrunched brows and below by shadowy circles. Your mouth goes from slack with your plush lips barely parted, to pouty and pursed in a deep frown.

 Jeongguk knows he should say something. 

 Explain. 

 Say sorry. 

 Ask for forgiveness. 

 But he feels mute, like his heart is stuck in his throat. Like he can’t do anything but stand there and hope you show him a little bit of undeserved grace. That you give him a moment, and then another, to get himself together. Even though he’s had too many moments already to do exactly that.

 In the few seconds that go by you shoo your roommate, and after she’s gone, your face changes once again. Softening just enough to not be so harsh. You stand in your doorway as he flounders and you watch with intent, almost curious, anticipation. And Jeongguk doesn’t want to be too optimistic– but he thinks there might be a hint of relief, an inkling of eager, hopeful expectation hiding in the way you’re looking at him. 

 As if you’ve been waiting for him; wanting him– and now he’s finally here; almost yours. 

 He’s so caught up in that –the minute chance of reconciliation that he only thinks he caught a glimpse of– that he doesn’t get out of his head until the movement of your shoulders slumping, and your chest deflating rips him out of it. 

 Jeongguk would prefer the air your demeanor carried just moments ago. The quiet, masked hopefulness you gave off before you made yourself smaller and breathed that tiny, dejected sigh. God, he would even take the calloused, puzzled hostility you had when you first realized it was him in standing in your doorway. Anything over how you look currently.

 Definitely disappointed, maybe a little bit embarrassed, and just so sad. 

 It’s what he expected, at least to some extent. He’s foolish, but he can only fool himself so much. There’s a limit on how many fantasies of effortless forgiveness he can have before he has to face reality. 

 Jeongguk knew you would be sad, and he knew you would be disappointed. He was ready to take responsibility for the role he played because he was so sure that it would be his fault.

 But what makes how you’re looking at him right now so awful, so unbearable– is that you’re looking at him like it has nothing to do with him. 

 You don’t look disappointed in him. You don’t look sad because of him. 

 It looks internal, so personal. 

 Like you’re sad because you naively allowed yourself to hope– let it glimmer, shining so obvious in your eyes. Only for the brightness to dim, snuffed out by the foolishness that so often goes hand in hand with naivety. 

 Like you’re sad because as soon as you saw him, you had expectations– preconceived notions about how it would go when he came back, how he would act. Only to learn that with enough preconceived notions, you can turn expectations into daydreams.

 Maybe that’s why you look a little embarrassed, too. Because you so quickly let yourself hope, like a child who hasn’t learned from their mistakes. Because you immediately conjured up expectation-disguised daydreams of Jeongguk. Still, after all this time. After everything he’s done, you still expected good from him. 

 You look like you’re disappointed in yourself, not him, because you should have known better.

 He doesn’t find his voice until you’re shaking your head like he’s let you down. Until you’re turning away from him and edging the door closed.

 “I’m sorry!”

 Jeongguk blurts the words out, and he didn’t say much but his chest is heaving and he’s got this frantic way about him and a panicky feeling flooding his veins. When you look up, surprise flashes across your face, but it’s gone in an instant and is replaced by incredulous anger. Like you can’t believe him. 

 Despite your trying to stand your ground and hold his gaze, a gleam still shines in your eyes.

 “I am,” he assures breathlessly, his eyes darting across your face, “I’m so sorry, ___. And–”

 When Jeongguk tells you he misses you, he notices how you almost flinch. How your eyes snap shut tightly –like you can feel his words, but still aren’t sure if they’re real or if they’re true; like you’re scared of finding out– and the heavy tears pooling on your lashline finally spill over. 

 As the salty droplets drip down the apples of your cheeks, Jeongguk feels an ache that hurts so badly that it’s visceral. Like if he could crack open his chest, he could get a hand on the it and just rip the pain out and make it go away. If only that was the case. 

 “I–” you start, but your voice gives out. You clear your throat with a small cough, and talk to the ground because it’s easier to talk to than him. “Maybe we’re better like this, Gguk.”

 Jeongguk’s heart drops, and it’s a struggle to get out even just a whispered a plea of your name.

 When you speak up this time, you force your eyes to meet his. Your brows are upturned and your bottom lip quivers for just a second before you take a deep, self-soothing, breath and school your features into a facade of indifference and resolve. 

 “I hope Nari’s been okay. And you. I hope you’ve been okay, too.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow. He’s confused but gives you an unsteady nod. “She– she’s good, yeah.”

 You scan his face, trying to keep your own expression neutral. But how he only mentions Nari and not himself doesn’t evade you. A faint heartache murmurs in your chest, but you mimic his nod. “That’s good. I’m glad–”

 “What about you? Have you been okay?”

 Jeongguk’s words come out overhasty and too eager. But after such a long time of replaying old dialogues in his head– talking to you just feels so nice. He doesn’t want to stop, even if the conversation feels stilted and trivial. He’s still going to hang on to every little marginal thing you say, and he’s still going to do his best to keep the empty words flowing between you.

 He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath while he awaits your answer. Not until he hears you say, “Yeah, I’m happy, I think” and the air inside his lungs vacates. Making room for a thick cloud of melancholy that isn’t surprising, but still makes it hard to breathe all the same. 

 Guilt mingles with the suffocating hurt because you being happy shouldn’t make him sad.  

 But then you smile and Jeongguk responds with a frown and a skeptical shake of his head. 

 Because the smile– it’s so fake, so unconvincingly artificial and staged that when it turns your eyes to half moons and causes their corners to crinkle– it also forces a fresh wave of tears to tumble down your cry-flushed cheeks. 

 He doesn’t believe you, but that’s no surprise. You’ve never been a good liar.

 A dim, defeated laugh putters from your lips. Trying to portray nonchalance, you give him a weak, half-hearted shrug, like you know you’ve been caught but it can’t be helped.

 He knows it hurts you to dismiss him. He can hear it in your shaky, wispy tone when you say, “Take care, Gguk.”

 Take care Gguk.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a ‘goodbye’. A goodbye that he’s having trouble processing. 

  It feels like a lifetime, but really it’s only a few seconds that Jeongguk stands there trying to make sense of your words. It’s only a few more before the door closes on him. 

 Jeongguk couldn’t process the goodbye, but the telltale click of the door locking somehow makes perfect sense.

 ~~~

 Like you are the starlet of your very own coming of age, lifetime, hallmark romance drama– you don’t let yourself cry until your back is pressed against the closed door. Then you cover your mouth to keep quiet as you slide down the wood.

 The moment is short-lived. 

 “Where’s Jeongguk?”

 The voice seemingly comes from nowhere, and you jump slightly before swearing and directing your puffy, bloodshot eyes at your roommates. They both have their head peeking out from behind the kitchen wall. Nosy.

 “What do you mean ‘where’s Jeongguk?��” you groan, knocking your head back against the wood.

 Binna and Jade exchange a look. 

 “Are you guys like… not gonna… talk?”

 You slow blink at them a single time.

 An awkward quiet permeates the pumpkin-spice-scented air of your shared home. It’s not even Fall anymore. 

 “Well,” Binna starts, and then cuts herself off like she spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. She elbows your other housemate. “Jade?”

 Jade gives you an instinctive, reactionary smile that’s far too big. “I mean… communication is key… right? And that’s mainly what was lacking before? Talking now could give you the oppurtunity to say all the things you’ve been wanting to. And maybe he can explain his side–”

 Binna raises a hand to cut her off, “Too much credit, he is still a man.”

 “Fair but–”

 The two bicker for a bit before looking at you again.

 “Wait, did you not want to work things out?” 

 You roll your eyes. “Of course I wanted to.”

 “Of course you did,” Jade agrees easily. 

 “Of course you did,” Binna mimics before groaning and asking, “So why the hell is he not here, and why the hell are you not talking and ‘working things out’?” 

 Crossing your arms, your posture becomes defensive. “Wouldn’t that be too easy? Like he shows up at my door after all these months of virtual silence and I just let him in? Aren’t I supposed to make him grovel and cry and beg?” 

 “You have to let the man speak for him to be able to grovel and cry and beg, I’m afraid…” Binna informs.

 The narrowing of your eyes is the simple response she gets. Only because Jade speaks up before you can.

 “You know…” Jades starts, then ponders momentarily. “If it was you that showed up at his house out of the blue at 8 in the morning on a weekday? Then yeah,” she nods to herself, “I would say that it was too easy for him. But he came back to you. And just talking to him?” she shakes her head, “That’s not forgiving him. He still has a lot of work to do– and you should make him prove himself. Prove that he’s grown and changed,” Jade says before she gives you a gentle smile. “But him knocking on the door was also him taking the first step.”

 He came back to you.

 It’s what you wanted. But now that it’s happening, you have no clue what to do next. 

 You don’t know what to say. Are you supposed to lie and tell him you’re thankful that he pushed you away; that it helped you realize that he was right? That you are too young? That you’re happier without him, better off being free like he wanted you to be? 

 Or do you tell him the truth? Do you tell him about how hard it was without him? About how painful it was to go from having so much of him, all of the time– to not having none of him at all, ever? Do you come clean about how hollow and lost being alone made you feel? Do you tell him about how much it hurt every time you thought about how all it took was a few words from his ex– and you were gone; cut out so easily and carelessly? Do you admit that it still hurts to remember?

 You don’t know what to do. Do you resist the fight you’re expected to make him put up? Or do you not fight it much at all and welcome him with a second chance and a fresh start? Do you pretend like you didn’t miss him? Like you didn’t fantasize about him coming back? That you didn’t look for pieces of him everywhere you went; in everybody you met? 

 You don’t know how to feel. Happy because he came to you? Sad that it took so long? Scared because him coming back is just another chance for him to leave again?

 You were already crying, but the trickle of tears grows steadier. The sleeve of your sweatshirt is swiped angrily at your eyes, the light grey material dampened a few shades darker. 

 “Bro,” you cry, “I can’t even look at him without crying, I’m not gonna be able to talk to him. It hurts too bad.”

 Jade looks down at you, gives you a pity pout. “If it’s any consolation, I think he will cry too.”

 Binna agrees with a sympathetic nod of her head. “He’s probably hurting just like you, but it’s what he deserves.

 “___,” Jades speaks up again, “It doesn’t have to be so– painstaking. Like you don’t have to drive yourself mad thinking about what you should do. Just do what you want to do. If you want to talk to him, then talk to him.” She shrugs like it’s really that simple.

 And maybe it is. 

 ~~~

 It definitely isn’t.

 Because if it was, you would not have opened with, quote, ‘I let you put your finger in my ass’, unquote. 

 And Jeongguk wouldn’t have replied with a slow, painfully dumb sounding: ‘I– yes… I remember…?’

 You don’t even really know how it happened. 

 One second you’re hit with a burst of inspired adrenaline and then the next you’re knocking the wind out of both you and Jeongguk by barreling into his chest. The collision must have knocked the sense out of you, too. It’s the only explanation for your behavior. 

 All the same, the blame can’t be entirely yours– Jeongguk has to take some of it. He was standing directly outside of your door, after all. He claims he was working up the courage to knock again but that’s beside the point.

 You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you pretend not to catch the way that he rolls his lips between his teeth to keep a smile off his face when you lead him into your room and slyly try to kick a few things under your bed. A stuffed animal, a bra. A few too many socks.

 It’s a stupid attempt to make your space look a little more tidy and less like you’ve been rotting in it for the last few months. The room’s not too messy by any means; definitely not unkempt enough for you to feel embarrassed or like you need to straighten it up to impress him. But you hope he chalks it up to your nerves getting the best of you.

 He’s nervous, too. If how awkward he’s being is anything to go by. 

 Just standing at the foot of your bed with his hands in his pockets while you situate yourself in front of your headboard. He doesn’t take a seat until you pat the mattress a little, letting him know it’s okay and that you want him to. 

 There’s a quiet hush that fills the space. It’s slightly tense, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable; stilted but somehow familiar. 

 You’re sitting with one leg dangling and a pillow in your lap. It’s hugged to your chest. Perhaps a make-shift shield to put something between you and Jeongguk. Fiddling with a loose pillowcase string helps you avoid eye contact by making you look occupied.

 Jeongguk’s sat before you, stiff and looking down at the floor between his feet. Similarly evading your gaze just like you’re doing with his. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, rubbing his palms restlessly over the material of his slacks. 

 Thinking back, Jeongguk feels like he did so much of the talking that night in his living room. Probably too much, if he’s being honest. He feels he never really gave you the time to say your side or a proper chance to explain yourself. 

 So this time, he wants to let you do most of the talking. Let you be the one to initiate, at the very least. He wants to give you all the time you need to start the discussion how and when you want, with what you want and feel has precedence.

 Jeongguk stays patient right up until you say in a huff, “Well say something, I’m obviously not good at this.”

 His lips twitch at your stubborn, slightly irritated tone. 

 “You’re the one that showed up at my house when I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be at work, so,” you wave your hand at him, indicating you want him to get on with it. “Must have something important to say.”  

 The small laugh he allows himself is barely a chuckle, but it tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. Blames it on instinct and the simple fact that he just misses you. 

 “It is important,” he confirms, giving into your bait and starting the conversation for you. He considers staying quiet, getting another little reaction out of you, but he reminds himself that this isn’t the time for that. If he plays his cards right, maybe then he’ll be able to joke with you. But as of now, that’s not his place anymore.

 Shifting to face you a little more, so that when he says, “I wanted to apologize to you, ___,” you have his full attention.

 When he speaks, you don’t look at him. Instead, you only give him the faintest nod with your eyes cast down. Still fixed on the pillow in your lap. But Jeongguk notices how your lashes flutter quickly before you press your eyelids together tightly; just like you did earlier when he said that he missed you. 

 Your shoulders lift when you take a deep inhale, and your face is more or less neutral when your eyes meet his. 

 “It’s been months,” you tell him. 

 As if he doesn’t know. As if he hasn’t been driving himself mad day in and day out trying to muster up the courage to do precisely this; as if time doing what time does hasn’t been the bane of his existence. Because with each passing day, he knew he was that much closer to going from ‘it’s been so long’ to ‘it’s been too long’. He’s all too aware of just how long it’s been. 

 Regardless, he doesn’t want to give you excuses; choosing to be easily agreeable. He offers a small tilt of his head as acknowledgment. 

 “Why now?” you question him.

 Jeongguk tries to keep the sadness off of his face when he hears how you sound. 

 The tone of your voice is unsure; hurt. But the pain is elusive. Only heard when your subtle heartache peeks through the veil of composure you’re trying to hide behind.

 While he racks his mind for a worthy explanation, his eyes scan yours. Overflowing with so many different emotions and so expressive just like he remembers. 

 “I wish–” he begins, “I wish that I could tell you that I’ve been working toward this for ages and that I thought through all the steps and knew exactly what I wanted to say to you…” He gives a small self-deprecating chuckle, “But I can’t tell you that. After earlier, it’s clear that I didn’t have any idea or plan,” he offers you his bared palms. “I wish I had a good reason for ‘why now’, but I don’t.”

 Your brows furrow with affronted confusion. Jeongguk speaks up before you can.

 “That’s not to say that I haven’t been thinking about this since you left–”

 “I didn’t leave, you got rid of me–”

 The correction is hissed before you snap your mouth shut like you didn’t mean to say it. But you don’t take the words back and Jeongguk can’t control his expression this time. His face falls and he sighs as he looks down at the pattern on his pants. 

 “I’ve been thinking about this since I told you to leave,” he tries again, slowly. When you don’t comment again after a small pause, he continues, “but I wasn’t actively figuring out how to do it. I’ve come to learn that plans are essentially useless, so planning out what to say to you seemed pointless. In hindsight, it just made me look stupid,” he muses.

 “Honestly, having you on a constant loop in my mind wasn’t intentional; I didn’t want that,” Jeongguk admits. But he doesn’t even chance a glance, not keen to see your worsening scowl. “Remembering you just made me so miserable? Like, thinking about you all the time made me miss you all the time. And missing you made me so fucking sad– like the kind of sad you can feel? Like it hurt to think about you. But you never left my head, so the hurt never went away…”

 Jeongguk’s words slowly come to halt, his cheeks reddening to a bright cherry when he realizes that he’s rambling. As he’s mentally trying to dull his blush to something more faint and less conspicuous, he notes that your expression changed. You still look a bit angry, but now, there’s a pastel hue. A soft, muted sadness toning down the harshness. 

 He stumbles a little when he says, “I– Truthfully– I guess the–” Then he takes a quick, staccato breath mid-sentence to get himself together. “I guess the most truthful explanation for why I took so long is… avoidance? And guilt? Fear?” 

 When he frustratedly combs a hand through his hair, he pretends not to notice how it’s shaking. And he’s grateful that you don’t mention it when you track his movement. 

 The conversation gets stuck in a momentary limbo while Jeongguk thinks about what he said. It’s the truth. He was scared before– it’s what got him in this mess and it’s what kept him away for weeks too long. But he’s still scared. Despite getting the most intimidating part over with –actually coming to you after finally working up the nerve to– the fear of fucking up still hasn’t waned. 

 He’s still just as scared as he was. 

 Scared of saying the wrong thing. Of not being able to put what he feels into the right words. Of not being able to convey how truly fucking sorry he is for hurting you, how much he regrets it. He’s scared of hurting you again. Scared of you not forgiving him for the first time he did. 

 He is still just as scared of lying in the bed that he made.

 Jeongguk digs his fingertips into his thighs and his nails are dull, but he does it hard enough for a minute pang of discomfort to still be felt. He makes himself puff out a lame chuckle. It sounds strained and resembles a scoff more than anything, but he’s trying to lighten the mood; make the air in the room lighter and easier to breathe. 

 “I’m sorry,” he says on the tail end of the scoffing chuckle, shaking his head lightly. His voice has a light waver, shaky due to his nerves. “I– I’m just–”

 When he feels your small hand settle over the one he has working into his leg, his head whips up quickly and a reactive reflex almost has him pulling his hand away.

 But he stops himself before, and he’s so happy he does. Because when the initial shock wears off, your touch feels good. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy he catches himself because your touch feels nice and when he looks up from it, he gets to see you. 

 It’s like you stopped hiding and came out from behind that veil. Or maybe it’s an accident and you just forgot to keep it up. Either way, it doesn’t matter because he gets to see you watching him so artlessly, so openly honest. With a look that feels like a reminder. 

 A reminder that your heart has always been so soft, so sweet– that it still is. Softer than the hand you have settled gently over his and sweeter than its touch when you coax his own into being gentle, too, but with himself. A reminder that you’ve always been soft, sweet– that you still are. You look at him –softly; sweetly– like you’re reminding him that you’re still you. 

 It makes his eyes water and he has to look away. The thin, pinstripes on his slacks blur together, blending into thick lines as unshed tears muddle his vision.

 “It’s okay, you can–” he hears you tell him, starting hushedly. You sound hesitant, like you’re not sure if you want to finish. “I… want to know what you’re trying to say. So– you can take your time... I’ll wait for you.” 

 And if someone asked Jeongguk to describe the ache that fills his chest at your words– he would tell them that it hurts like he imagines the kindest, most tender, undeserved compassion would.

 “It took me so long because I was a coward, ___,” he says quietly. But the word is spat from his mouth like something foul. “I was so scared of feeling the hurt and facing the guilt that came when I thought about you; what I did to you–” Shame runs through his veins and he shakes his head at how spineless he was– unable to face the consequences of his own actions. It’s humiliating to remember. 

 He’s still talking down to his lap when he admits, “I– just avoided it altogether. I was so busy trying to keep it away that I didn’t give much thought to owning up to everything. I didn’t even know where to begin or how to go about fixing things with you.” 

 Jeongguk’s not crying yet. With that being said, his vision is still bleary and his eyes are red-rimmed from fighting the stubborn tears. He turns the hand he still has underneath yours palm-up. Covers yours with his other on top. Your tiny hand sandwiched between his big ones. He tilts his head back, blinks the wet in his eyes away.

 “I wanted to so badly, though,” he tells you, bringing himself to look at you, “To fix things with you. To just try with you. It took me way too long to understand something that should have been common sense: That things don’t always happen the way you plan for them to; That pieces don’t just fall into place just because you want them to. If I want something… It takes effort to make it happen. I have to work for it and try my best to put the pieces where they belong.”

 Jeongguk gives you a small smile and your hand a little squeeze. “I needed someone’s help to figure some things out,” he rolls his eyes playfully, almost fondly exasperated by the memory. “Like how to start altering the way I think and how to stop with all the wallowing and self-commiseration. How to stomach self-reflection. But when it finally clicked and I really got it? Fixing things with you was the only thing I wanted to do.” 

 There’s a tiny flicker of something coming back. A sanguine glimmer replaces the chagrin in Jeongguk’s eyes and you try to mirror it, reflect it back to him. Because the things he’s saying all sound so good. Perfect and promising and like everything you could have hoped for. 

 But when he says the thing about needing someone’s help? Anything he said before gets repressed. Unclear and hard to recall, as if his words are stuck inside a wayward memory. Anything he says after is indistinct. Muffled and hard to hear, as if there’s water stuck inside your ears. Similar to the rot that’s stuck inside your heart; ugly and hard to get rid of. 

 Such a gross, sickly feeling suddenly comes over you. 

 It takes so much effort to swallow it down. The green-washed insecurity that’s wanting to crawl up your throat and out your mouth. Masquerading as untrusting accusations that will make you seem paranoid. Heartsick questions that will leave you too vulnerable. 

 Who was it? Was it her? Was Dasom the one who helped you?

 Of course, she’s going to be a sore spot and you know that. But the thoughts fluster you and catch you a little off guard because it’s not like you to think like that. 

 It’s never been like you to be paranoid. To feel so self-conscious and easily threatened. You’ve never been the type to chastise. To interrogate, or pry. To accuse, or assume. 

 The doubt came from out of nowhere– crept its way into your head during a brief lapse of emotional awareness and into your heart when it erringly opened and was left unguarded. At first, quieting the intrusive thoughts and dispelling the negative feelings was a challenge. But in the end, you managed and it was fleeting and passed quickly.  

 Shaking the residual embarrassment that follows the bad thoughts and emotions, is much more difficult. 

 Unlike the momentary doubt, the sudden flash of insecurity that it comes with is so intense that it lingers, so strong that it fogs your head. It distractingly hangs out in the back of your mind making it hard to focus.

 It takes a few moments longer before you’re able to suppress it and push it down, down, down. Down far enough that you’ll be able to forget about it. At least for a short while, you’ll be able to convince yourself that the feelings won’t come back because it’s just not like you. 

 Wanting to omit it altogether, you gather your composure and fully give Jeongguk your attention again. You give him a small but genuine smile and wiggle your fingers that are still between his hands. 

 He smiles back softly, while you sit quietly. You’re working to piece together the things he said while you were lost in your head, trying to come up with a decent response. 

 “I was scared too,” you reveal quietly, “The whole time I was scared.” 

 “Will you tell me what you were scared of?”

 “There were so many things, Gguk.” You don’t tell him that there still are. Jeongguk nods attentively. You gingerly untangle your hand from his, catching his eyes before looking around your room. 

 “The finger thing was a really bad example,” you begin trying to explain. You shake your head with a sheepish smile, embarrassed and horrified at your past self. “and it wasn’t the actual act. It was more of what it meant that was scary for me? Like the fact that I let you do something that I always swore I would never let anyone do? Ever.”

 Laughing lightly, you think back on all of the times that your friends would make jokes. How they always told you that there would be a time that you would be horny enough to let it happen. The times when they had more class and said it was fine if you never wanted to and never did, but that they still thought you would end up giving in one day. For the right person, you would. 

 But you always remained adamant– so sure that nobody would ever make the act appealing enough, that nobody would ever make you feel comfortable enough with them for you to allow them to touch you like that or see you like that. 

 “But then I met you.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand. But he just stays quiet and nods again, waiting for you to continue. And honestly, you can’t blame him. Anal should never be such a serious topic or something that feels like such a pivotal point in a relationship. You certainly wish that it wasn’t. 

 But alas.

 “All it took was a couple of months… Just a few soft touches and some dreamy words and I was putty in your hands.” Your hands that are folded lightly in your lap open up to show your palms before they squeeze shut into tight fists. “I feel like I would’ve done anything for you; anything you asked me to.”

 His features fall, and the expression he wears is laced with so much guilt. “Wait– Did I… make you feel like you had to do certain things?”

 You can’t help but smile at his concern as you shake your head sadly. “No, no… nothing like that– I always wanted to.”

 Jeongguk frowns, not certain of how truthful you’re being.

 Promising him that you’re not lying, you elaborate. “That’s part of why it was scary for me, I think. There was just something about you that made me so…I don’t know, willing? So yours?”

 The admission makes pesky pinpricks of tears sting the backs of your eyes. “And I was. I was so yours the whole time even though you weren’t mine–”

 “I was–” Jeongguk chimes softly. Interrupting, if only for the sake of trying to convince you.

 “Not really,” you argue. The tone you use comes across as somewhat detached. Like you’re just stating a fact. 

 Using the silence that nestles between you as an opportunity to think, you consider what you’re wanting to tell him. How vulnerable you’re willing to get. Your mouth opens before you feel like you’ve even made your decision.

 “I knew you liked me,” you acknowledge because you don’t want to be unfair, “but part of me always wondered: ‘how much does he?’ and ‘for how long will he?’. I was already scared that I was just a phase for you. Before Dasom ever said it.”

 Jeongguk tenses just a touch at the mention of his ex and you pretend not to notice, continuing with, “So when she said that I was just something you needed to get out of your system and you didn’t defend me? God, Jeongguk,” you get out, eyes squeezing shut. Wincing at the ghost of pain the memory brings back. “That hurt so much.”

 Despite your wanting to look him in the eye and come off strong while you relay how his actions made you feel; it’s impossible. Despite wanting to seem as though you’ve healed and grown and matured and like it just doesn’t hurt so bad anymore; you can’t face him.

 “And then everything happened so quickly?” you continue before he can get a word in, your words coming out rushed and frantic, “It felt like you didn’t even think about it, and like it was just so easy for you to let me go? Like I really was nothing just like she said–”

 He can’t stop himself from reaching out and quieting you when he hears the way your voice breaks. Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cry, not sure he could handle it if you did. Your hands are in your lap still, clenched together, so he rests a palm on your knee. 

 “___,” he says gently, “I need you to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”

 You keep talking like you don’t hear him.

 “It almost seemed like you were already over it, bored of me. And her saying those things was a convenient way to– ” you shake your head before sighing. “I was always scared that you’d end up getting tired of me, that you would stop wanting me and just get rid of me. And after what she said, it felt like you finally did. Like you used her words as an excuse so you could finally leave me.”

 “That’s not true, baby,” he reiterates, tongue slipping as he tries to console you again

 At the pet name you look up. Your red-rimmed eyes locking with his. 

 He stutters a bit as he backtracks, barely able to get out a stiff apology. 

 And your lips pull down in a deep frown, and your brows turn up confusedly. “You said you wanted to… fix things with me?”

 Jeongguk’s lips part, dim surprise taking over his face before he breathes a small yes.

 “I want that too,” you breathe back, “but I’m still so afraid Jeongguk.”

 “I know, I know you are– I am too–”

 “Not like me,” you counter, “You may be scared, but you’re not scared like me. You can’t be scared like me.” 

 Your words come out sharper than intended, too emotional for the facade you’re trying to portray. But you don’t dwell on the tone of your voice. Nor do you dwell on the brief ire that flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes. 

 “I’m scared that I’ll never catch up to you. You won’t ever know what that feels like because you’ll never be the one that’s worried about falling behind– you’re the one that’s ahead of the curve. I’m scared that I’m not good enough for you and Nari– that I can’t be. You have no reason to be scared of that.” 

 The fight to keep your voice level and in control dwindles. Every ounce of your pain can be heard as you let out the burdensome ache in your heart, little by little. 

 Each word is heavier than the last when you ask Jeongguk, “Why would you be afraid of not being good enough for someone who never made you question it?” 

 Jeongguk flinches. Visibly recoils as if your words are abrasive enough to hurt. 

 Which is what you wanted. You wanted to hurt him, but it doesn’t make you feel better like you anticipated. If anything his reaction makes your pain ricochet right back at you. Hurting him, hurting you.

 And then you consider that perhaps, you didn’t truly want him to hurt– that you might have just wanted him to be aware. To know what you’re scared of; how it hurts to be scared.  

 “Maybe you are scared, too,” you amend, “Maybe there are even a few things that we’re both afraid of… but being scared isn’t something we have in common.”

 The hurt from before is replaced by barely-hidden defensiveness. Jeongguk does try to hide it as he listens to you, though. You give him credit for that.

 “Being scared that you’ll realize that I actually am just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants, exactly like you thought, is a very specific fear,” you try to explain. “I’m scared that one day you’ll look at me but you won’t see me anymore– you’ll see a mistake that could have been avoided if you never came back. That I’ll cross your mind. But instead of thinking fondly… you’ll end up thinking about how you wish you had just stuck by your decision when you said you wouldn’t let me stay.”

 A defensive urge to argue the validity of his feelings comes naturally– he’s only human. His emotional side finds it unfair of you to determine, decide, and define his fears but the irony of the situation dawns on his logical side just as quickly. 

 The fact that you’re speaking to him in a manner that mirrors how he spoke to you all those months ago, doesn’t escape him. Instead, the similarities make him stop and think. Something he regrets not doing that night in his living room. 

 He concludes that arguing with you would be pointless. He knows you’re right and it doesn’t take him long to realize. 

 Yeah, Jeongguk’s scared. But just like you said– he’s not scared like you. Not scared of what you’re scared of. Jeongguk’s fears are more or less internal and he’s had a few of them for most of his adult life, since he became a father. Some of the fears may concern you in some way or another, but none of them manifested because of you or something you did or things you said. 

 He’s scared, but he’ll never be scared like you. Not when the things you’re afraid of only exist because of him. 

 The thought of it never going away, of you never being the same or free of the ache he caused, even after the insecurities and fears are dug up by the root– it makes Jeongguk feel like he’s going to be sick. 

 “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you end up saying after a few moments of watching Jeongguk struggle to get words out. “And I know you regret it. You showing up here proves that.”

 The small, sad smile you give him is too kind for what he did.

 “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jeongguk says, “For you, for Nari. I never thought– I’m so sorry, ___.”

 “I know,” you reassure, gently. 

 And you truly do know how sorry Jeongguk is. He obviously doesn’t have the words to express his remorse, but sincerity is written all over his face. His big doe-eyes dark and glassy and so genuine. Full of regret; the longing to go back and undo what can’t be undone. Somehow so full of warmth, just like you remember. 

 “I don’t want to fight anymore,” you say. 

 It doesn’t sound like you’re at your wit’s end or like you feel as if the conversation has reached it’s breaking point. Just sounds like what it means. Like you don’t want to fight. Not with him. Not with yourself. Not with what you’ve been wishing for since you lost it. 

 Jeongguk agrees, nodding. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it a fight. I want you to be able to talk to me about–” He’s flighty, moving his hands all about, like he’s nervous and has too many things he wants to say. “about everything, really. So, I promise, I’ll just listen–”

 You watch him for a few more seconds, letting the corners of your lips turn up just so. Then you reach for his hands, ceasing their movement with your own. 

 “Shush,” you laugh faintly, “There’s still a lot we have to talk about. So much– we can’t get through it all with one conversation. It’s gonna take a lot of them and a long time, probably. But I think we’ve covered the most important stuff, right?”

 You’re aware it’s going to take time to get through the maze of problems you and Jeongguk have created between each other.

 But you can’t help but think about all time that you wasted while making them. 

 And you don’t want to waste even more time by waiting till everything is figured out before you start letting yourself get past it. You don’t want to hinder the process of moving forward by getting lost trying to navigate the maze. Not when you’ve finally made your way back to each other. 

 So while the labyrinth hasn’t been solved, and all your issues haven’t been fixed, at least now, you don’t have to do it alone. You can resolve everything and find a way out together. 

 It’s possible that you’re too willing to push things aside, that you’re too keen to move past it all. That you’re not standing your ground, being too easy and too soft, too quick. That you’re not giving yourself enough time to consider what you haven’t touched on yet. To process what you have. 

 But as you told Jeongguk, you feel like what needed to be addressed has been. With time, everything else will be talked about. Which is enough for you and your eager heart. You don’t want to wait anymore, not when you’ve been waiting so long already.

 Jeongguk’s wearing a flush when you grin at him and he looks down at the pair of your hands, still slightly entangled on your duvet. His thumb rubs softly over your knuckles while he says, “If you’re sure?”

 Vaguely aware of Jeongguk absently toying with your fingers while he awaits your reply, you think it over just for the sake of it and end up remembering something.

 You hum musingly, making sure he can hear the smile you decorate it with. An attempt to diffuse the heavy air in your room till it’s something more buoyant; lighthearted and easier to breathe. You curl your manicured finger around one of his, trapping it briefly before untangling both your hands.

 “Actually,” you start. 

 So very attentive, Jeongguk whips his head up. 

 “Now that I think about it, you told me why it took you so long,” you reflect, “But you didn’t tell me why now.”

 Jeongguk opens his mouth to reply before he’s furrowing his brows, puzzled, pursing his lips into a line. It’s quiet while he thinks.

 A weak, hopeless simper sounds, and he shakes his head while running a hand through his hair. “Again, I wish I had a better answer for you.”

 You roll your eyes and change positions, now sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Okay, well, you didn’t just randomly show up! There had to have been something that made you come now; today.”

 Light, but genuine laughter rings in your room– it starts off sounding like it’s accidental, cut-off chuckles only heard because the person laughing can’t hold it in, and it ends as cute giggles that lilt throughout the space softly. 

 And it’s all Jeongguk’s fault. 

 “No,” he says, around a breathy giggle, “I really did. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I ended up caving and looking at your–” 

 It’s now your fault that sounds of amusement continue to filter in the air– Jeongguk’s eyes getting wide and his face turning pink is too funny and you can’t not laugh at him.

 He stutters when he tries to backtrack, “Y… Your– pictures? On my phone? In my camera roll?” 

 You narrow your eyes suspiciously, impishly. “Which of my pictures, hmm?”

 The flush coloring his cheeks runs down to his chest, the silver LV pendant of his necklace would probably be warm if you reached out and touched it. He would probably be warm too if you reached out and touched him.

 “No! Oh my god, not those! I did not look at those, okay? Anyway,” he rushes out, “I really was on my way to work! But add a couple of turns and a few steps–” he shrugs, “I guess now because I physically couldn’t keep myself from you any longer? Because then I was at your door and now I’m here. With you.”

 The giggles have finally ceased, and now it’s just your paired breathing that acts as low background noise while you both take the other in.

 “Now you’re here with me,” you repeat softly, with an even softer smile.

 Jeongguk’s eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments. He darts his tongue out to wet his own.

 “___. You were right,” he tells you, “It didn’t have to be all or nothing like I thought it did.”

 You nod once.

 “I’m sorry for not listening to you. For deciding for you and not letting you make your own choices. And for not even letting you explain your side that night. For how bad I hurt you and for all the things the hurt caused.”

 “Okay,” you breathe.

 “I should have listened to you.”

 Again, you nod.

 “I should have chosen you.”

 It’s almost instantaneous when tears well in your eyes.

 “But I was so scared of the way I wanted you and how badly I wanted it,” Jeongguk confesses, “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you before. For anybody.”

 Mild confusion makes a home in your eyes.

 He expects it before he sees it stir your features, so he’s not surprised when it appears. He finds himself smiling. Maybe because he’s wanted to tell you that since he realized it. Or maybe he wants to finally do what he should have done the night of the fight, and even before then. 

 Jeongguk smiles at your uncertainty because this time, he gets to make it go away. He gets to reassure you of your place in his life, of how important you are to him. Of how you’re worth trying for. He’s quick to shush you when your lips part to speak. 

 “No one,” he insists, “You’re so different, ___. And I feel so differently for you. I feel different when I’m with you. That’s part of why I was afraid. I was scared to want you because I didn’t know how to have you.”

 Tears are making his eyes gleam, glassy in the morning light that streams through your blinds. Yours are a mirror and you don’t know how you’ve kept the drops from spilling over.

 “I’m still fucking scared,” he admits, “Like you said, we’re both still scared. Because we have no god damn clue how this will turn out. If we’ll even be able to fix it and get back to the way we were. Who might be collateral damage if we can’t. If one of us will end up changing our mind. Or if we’ll end up even better; if we –me and you, together– will be the only thing that we’re sure about.”

 The urge to tell him that you’ve been sure ever since you found his round little bug of a baby in your grocery store is so strong– you think you may burst because of it. Maybe the lovestruck feeling in your chest has gone supernova. 

 “I have no clue about anything other than the fact that I want to be with you, ___.”  

 Let the record show that between you and him, Jeongguk is the one to let the first tear fall during this conversation.

 “I want to try.” 

 “Yeah–”

 “If you’ll let me, I want to try for you. And if you’ll have me, I want to try with you. Because if we don’t at least try– I think I’ll wish that we did forever.”

 When you beam at him and exhale a simple, ‘Okay’ and Jeongguk echoes it, he thinks this is all too easy.

 But then he remembers how everything with you has always been that way. Maybe not too easy, but just right. Concerning you, the hardest thing he’s had to do is be without. 

 He brings your hand to his lips, brushing your knuckles with a sweet, kiss. “I want to be with you,” he tells you again.

 You bite your lip to suppress your smile. “Then be with me.”

 This time he’s the one saying ‘Okay’ and you’re the one echoing.

 Until backtrack with a pout. “What… what am I? Like– to you.”

 “What do you want to be?”

 “Yours.” 

 Your answer is breathed so quickly, like you didn’t even have to think about it to know that’s what you wanted. Like that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. How fast you reply gives Jeongguk butterflies. Makes him giddy while he tries to calm himself as he confirms, “Mine,” before he adds quietly, a little shy, “I’ll introduce you as… my girlfriend?”

 Jeongguk is so endeared when you close your eyes, wistful when you ask him to say it again in an airy voice. 

 “My girlfriend,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his.

 When you open your eyes to look at him and he sees unshed tears heavy on your lashline, his heart pulls in his chest and it breaks a little when you murmur, “I didn’t know if I would ever hear you say that.” 

 “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

 A teardrop escapes the corner of your eye when you shake your head, smiling so sweetly, so happily. Jeongguk’s distracted, just taking it in and getting lost in everything that is you. So much so, that he doesn’t see it coming. Not until your arms are wrapped around his neck, his reflexively coming up to wrap around your waist like muscle memory. 

 Jeongguk takes a deep breath when he has you in his arms, nuzzles his nose into your hair. Pulls you impossibly closer, and he can feel how he squeezes the air out of you when you puff out a dulcet laugh into the crook of his neck. 

 When you bring your hand to the back of his head, the feel of your nails on his scalp and your fingers in his hair is enough to make him sigh, sink into the touch. It’s familiar. Feels like a natural progression, just like the way your cheeks brush when you pull away just slightly, only to come back. Closer this time. 

 His nose bumps yours, and he inhales your shaky sigh. 

 “I…”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk breathes. 

 The shift is swift. The temperament of the atmosphere smoothly transforms– going from something saccharine and tenderly sentimental to something decadently rich and heavy. The air all at once becomes thick and intoxicatingly heady; plush and ardently warm. 

 The build-up is gradual. At first, the sudden heady note of warmth that makes your room hazy just feels like a blanket. Like it covers softly, tickles the skin lightly. Then it begins to seep in so slowly, gradually, that it’s not noticeable until the heat of it can be felt bone deep. Until fingers shake with the desire to touch. 

 It starts with Jeongguk nosing along your jaw; down the length of your neck when you tilt your head to the side for him. It starts with the occasional, accidental brush of his lips against your skin. It starts with your hand gripping tight in his hair, a subtle try at pulling him in to keep him near. 

 It ends with a kiss.

 Albeit, a fleeting one– but still a kiss nonetheless. 

 Pulling himself back, Jeongguk’s features are tensed. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted as he struggles with himself. He’s rough when he gets a hold of you by your waist. His fingers digging in harshly; almost like he doesn’t realize how he’s handling you. But he’s gentle when pushes you away to put some space between you. 

 “Why–” you whisper, needy, as you bring your palms to cover his grip at your waist. You pet at the backs of his hands, coaxing him into letting them roam. You guide his touch down to your hips when he gives in briefly, encouraging him to touch you.  

 “I don’t know if– Maybe we shouldn’t–” 

 You crowd his space, bringing yourself to your knees and pushing his palms down to where the hem of your too-big sweatshirt grazes high on your bare thigh. Jeongguk groans after he loses his short internal battle. Can’t rob himself of squeezing at the meat of your thighs just for a second before he’s trying to pull his hands from yours.

 He doesn’t get very far because you end up cradling his face in your hands, angling his head up to look at you. And Jeongguk’s always been so easy for you. It’s no surprise how easily he yields to the movement; how easy his eyes slip shut. How easily he parts his lips when your tongue teases the seam; how easy it is to get lost in the taste of you. 

 “Shouldn’t what, Gguk?” you ask in a soft voice. Each word spoken between the kisses you’re trailing down the column of his neck.

 Jeongguk keeps his hands mostly to himself. Awkwardly letting them hover by your sides as he searches his brain, trying to recall the reason why he’s clinging to his resolve. It is so hard though, when you’re right in front of him. So willing and eager to let him have you. He finds himself following your lips when you barely let the plush center graze his cupid’s bow. 

 “Maybe we should… take it slow?” he offers, dazedly. It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but Jeongguk can’t help the way his voice carries up at the tail end like he’s not sure that’s really what he wants. 

 A little giggle falls from your lips, puffs hotly over his. And Jeongguk’s never thought you evil before, but right now he’s certain that you are. Because, with wistful mirth still in your voice, all you do is nod like you’re simply humoring him and say, “Yeah, maybe.”

 Then you kiss him again, sighing a delicate, ‘Touch me’ against his lips.

 You bring his awkward hands to your body, placing them on your tits, urging him to cup and squeeze over your sweatshirt. 

 Jeongguk exhales shakily, unable to keep himself from rolling them in his palms. 

 “Yeah,” you whisper, “Please.”

 His hold on your chest turns rough, accidentally letting his pent-up frustration out through his touch and taking it out on you. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but you still whine. Let out a high, airy keen as your eyes slip shut and your head tilts back. 

 There’s no warning. Only Jeongguk’s hands moving to your shoulders, followed by a push and then a tumble, ending with you on your back and Jeongguk hovering over you. He’s got your wrists pinned by your head, and he looks down at you with dark eyes. The frustration in them juxtaposes the surprise in yours. 

 “You know that’s not fair, ___,” he chides. His tone is harsh, trying to sound stern, maybe angry– but there’s a slight waver in his voice that tells you he’s struggling to stay collected. 

 Fussily, you squirm under him. You tug against the hold he has on your wrists, only for him to squeeze tighter. You cant your hips in an attempt to rub up against his, only for Jeongguk to just lift them higher. A laugh of incredulity pairs the disbelief on his face when he glances between your wiggling frame and your irritated pout. 

 “I’m trying to do things right,” he explains around his bemusement, as he roughly presses your wrists deeper into the mattress. “I’m trying to be good.”

 You stare up at him with pinched brows. He looks so pretty above you. Flushed a pretty pink with his lips parted and plumped by the kisses you managed to steal. A stray, misplaced strand of hair flutters with his heavy breathing. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips, and you can physically see how much he wants you; how hard it is for him to fight it.

 When he finally lowers his body to yours, it’s almost defeatedly. Jeongguk gives in and just rests his weight on you. Presses himself against you, hot and hard between your legs. Finding his place easily when you open up and make room for him.

 He keeps that pressure on his cock while he exhales a trembling, almost relieved sigh. His nose brushes yours but when you tilt your head to connect your lips, he pulls back. He does it again, taunting you with almost-kisses until you’re craning your neck again.

 He doesn’t kiss you back when he lets your lips connect. In fact, you can feel how he purses his stubbornly. You stay determined, unswayed by his resistance. Your soft kisses inch from his mouth to pepper cute, all over his blushing skin. The scar on his cheek, the bridge of his nose. The just barely off-center freckle beneath his bottom lip. When your palm naturally settles on his neck, fingertips over his pulse point, you let out a breathy noise of wonder when you feel how fast his heart is racing. 

 And he feels his cock kick shamefully in his pants, letting out a breathy noise of his own. You feel it too and you coo, soft and fond, as you trail your other hand down his spine until it’s flat on the small of his back, pressing encouragingly. 

 Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Jeongguk hangs his head to get closer to you. He bites gently at the pudge of your cheek, letting his teeth drag lightly until he’s mouthed hot, all the way to your ear.  

 “Why won’t you let me be good?” he whispers. 

 He croons prettily against the shell of your ear before he nips teasingly at your earlobe. A heat curls in your belly, making you suck in a short, whiny breath. The insides of your thighs clamp tight around his frame. 

 “Be good to me,” you gasp, arching up into him.

 Jeongguk moans quietly and buries his face in your neck when he can’t stop his hips from stuttering into a clumsy rhythm. Sloppily rutting his cock over your panties, uncoordinated and eager.

 Maybe he’s overly sensitive, hyperaware of your body underneath him, but when you begin to roll your hips, meeting his and matching his pace– he can feel how the little bit of added pressure has you opening up for him. Just enough for his hard-on to slide between, barely pillowed by your panty-covered pussylips. Even through the clothing, he can feel the difference. Like he knows you can. 

 He hears the unexpected moan you let out when you feel his cock rut over your clit and he feels the way your nails dig into his back at the sudden enhanced pleasure before he shifts to rest on his forearms so he can see too. 

 And what a pretty sight you are. 

 Eyes hazy and heavy, half-lidded as you look down your body to where he’s making you feel good. Cheeks flushed a rosy pink with arousal and maybe a little bit of abashment when you glance up at him and see him already watching you. You give him a small, shy grin before letting your eyes flutter closed. Basking in how he’s making you feel, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.  

 As he takes you in, his lips part with a low groan. His own pleasure coming from pleasuring you; heightened by every noise, look, and movement you make. Jeongguk gets such a specific satisfaction and gratification from making you feel good. From being good to you.

 “Is this what you want?” Jeongguk whispers, slowing down some. He settles into a steadier pace, rutting his cock up and down on your cunt with slow, lazy drags. 

 He grins to himself because of how quick you are to nod and let him know that, yes, this is what you want. His hand comes up to smooth some of the flyaways that have sprouted from your squirming and he cups your cheek when your turn into his touch. 

 “Hmm?” he prompts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

 You huff, annoyed, and he can’t help but coo, smitten. 

 “Yeah– yes I want this, but I–,” you start off strong. You hold his gaze until shyness wins and has you focusing on the necklace dangling from his neck. The LV sways some as he continues to rock his hips. “I want more, too.”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk asks, a smile lacing his dreamy tone. He gives a quick, soft peck to your red-bitten lips in lieu of letting you answer. “I know you do,” he tells you, murmurs it with open-mouthed kisses against your throat. He pulls at the neck of your sweatshirt, draws a violet into your collarbone, using his lips as the pen. Then he tugs the thin skin between his teeth briefly, making you inhale harshly before he kisses it better. 

 “Gonna take care of you,” he promises, “take my time with you.”

 Jeongguk proceeds at his own languid speed, lingering on every new inch of skin that’s revealed as he rids you of your sweatshirt. Of your panties. 

 He allows you your own pace as well. 

 Doesn’t spur you on when you’re slow to open up his dress shirt, doesn’t goad you into nimble quickness when your fingers stumble and it takes you far longer than it should to undo all the buttons. He doesn’t hurry you when your touch drags over his skin, or when your palms falter at his shoulders, or when your fingertips lag all the way down his arms when you finally slide the button-up off. When your shaky hands bide their time, hesitating at the buckle of his belt, he doesn’t rush you. 

 Jeongguk takes his time –and lets you take yours– as if time itself doesn’t exist when it’s passing between the both of you. As if each moment that comes and each moment that goes is inconsequential because moments are meaningless and time is simply a concept when forever is right now. 

 Nothing really matters and there’s no need to rush when he’s in your hands and you’re in his arms and forever is in his heart.  

 “Not yet,” he lilts, grabbing your wrists and sliding the flat of your palms up his tummy and away from his waistline. 

 “But I–”

 “But I–” he flirts coyly. 

 Your mouth opens to argue, but the words never get a voice. His mien makes the words in your throat fall mute and causes a feeling of wistfulness to rouse in your heart.  

 Knelt on his knees between your legs, smiling down at you, playful and flirty. Happy. Wearing a pink full-body flush– Jeongguk is stunning. Distractingly so. 

 He’s glowing; gentle yet radiant. A quiet fondness reflected in his eyes as he looks at you with that well-worn adoration of his. It’s a familiar affection. One that you’ve missed, yearned for, and memorized– one that you’ve tried to unlearn and tried to forget, too, because of how much it ached to remember. 

 Nostalgia is a wonted thing that taints good memories until it hurts to remember them. It warped the memory of Jeongguk’s adoration until even just a fleeting thought about it hurt. It made you want to wipe your memory clean just to be freed from the yearning.

 But with him looking at you the way he is, with that same raw adoration, you can’t fathom how you wanted to forget how it made you feel. How it still makes you feel. Because how good does it feel to be adored? How good does it feel to be wanted? How good does it feel to be finally his? 

 You dig your nails into his skin at the thought, and his tummy tenses. His grip on your wrists tightens and he lets out a soft hiss, the sound buoyed by a light, airy chuckle.

 His thumbs run over the pulse points in your wrists. “Lean against the headboard for me? Get comfy?”

 Cushioned by a few pillows, you do as he says, sinking into the down. Your knees are bent, and your arms are wrapped over your middle, now hyper-aware of how exposed you are comparatively. 

 Jeongguk’s top half is just as bare as you, only his necklace still on. But even though his lower body is covered, his bottoms are unforgiving. Dark slacks belted at his hips, the slight dip by his hipbones accentuated and his v-lines disappearing into the waistband where his cock is tucked away. Too hard and heavy to disguise, clothes doing almost nothing.  

 Not that he’s trying to hide it much at all. He’s palming himself casually, his touch light and his eyes dark. Tracking your movements while he waits for you to get settled. 

 When you are, Jeongguk makes his way to you, his hands resting on your knees as he lets his gaze roam. From your eyes to your lips, to your pillowy tits, to your closed legs. You feel a light pressure, almost tentative like he’s asking for permission with his touch.

 He’s on his best behavior though, so he asks you as well. And when you hear how his voice comes out a little deeper, with an almost imperceptible tremble, as he gently asks, “Can I?”,  your lashes flutter and your thighs reflexively press together, before you let him guide them open. 

 Time isn’t real, but any time in your bed shouldn’t go to waste. So he swiftly resituates himself, resting between your spread legs with his lips naturally finding their place on your neck, his hands on your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s quick, but attentive, as he relocates his mouth. The spit from his kiss marks leave a faint, wet trail from where they start at your neck down to the swell of your tits. He sighs when he gets a hold of them, jiggling a bit and squeezing. He glances at you through his lashes, as he plays your nipples, teasing them till they’re hardened by his touch. He smiles to himself when he sees you bring your bottom lip between your teeth to keep quiet.

 When he uses his lips to tease, he hears you sigh an airy, pleased sound. He’s smug as he swirls his tongue, flicks lightly over the stiff little peak. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding and pushing into him, before it’s released in a stuttery exhale. When you get a hold of his hair, the strands curl around your fingers, softly, like how you hold him close and cradle him to your chest. 

 He gives the paired nipple the same attention. Has you mewling prettily with each lick and suck. Whining with each bite and tug. 

 As he follows the length of your body, he does so with small, suctioning bites. A little nip just below your sternum, a little nip under your ribs. One at the softest part of your lower belly, right next to the pink heart of your belly ring. He gives the jewel a tiny, baby kiss.

 “This is the same one that you had in the first time we…” he stammers, too aware of the blush that simmers just under his skin at the thought. “We… you know… right?”

 Jeongguk’s laying on his front, his head resting against your inner thigh. His arms wrapped around your legs, resting on your belly. The tattooed fingers of his right hand absently toy with the dangly part of the jewelry. 

 Something warms you from the inside, pleasantly surprised by the mushy, lovesick feeling that washes over you. Your heart beats, rapid in your chest, and you wonder if Jeongguk can feel the whirlwind of butterflies in your tummy under his palms. 

 You nod, blushingly and shy. “Yeah, it’s… yeah.”

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he nods back. The puffs under Jeongguk’s eyes form when he smiles and adds, “This one is my favorite… Gonna make you feel good now, okay?”

 He says it so casually, that you want to laugh a little, but the anticipation it sparks makes you tense. Your pussy clenches on nothing, and you can feel that tell-tale heartbeat pulse between your legs. 

 “Okay… yeah…” you whisper dumbly, trying to hide how eager you are. You slowly open your legs a little wider so you can see him better, so he can touch you better. 

 Jeongguk switches from having one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to it resting palm down on your mons. He uses his thumb to lightly run along your plump folds, up and down. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, and his tongue peeks out to wet his lips a little before he nibbles on the inside of his lip, a soft smile making the corners curl. 

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he says again, his tone playful and a little wistful this time. He kisses just above your slit.

 Past lovers had said your cunt was pretty or maybe perfect when they found themselves between your legs, but Jeongguk has always called your pussy cute. It’s just a thing he does. And you don’t know why, but it never fails to make you blush, a little giddy and shy– something just so simple and sweet about his word of choice. 

 Even now, it has you wiggling and trying to inch your legs closed as you bring your hands up to hide your face. It’s whiny, but you both know you don’t really mean it when you say, “Stooooop” the word dragged out and laced with pleased flattery.

 You can feel Jeongguk’s warm laughter puff over your cunt as he urges you to keep your legs spread. He hums as the giggles subside and says, “Don’t be shy now, I’m just getting started.”

 A wistful sigh sounds, and it’s soft and cute and taunting when you say, “Okay well, hurry up.”

 You shift slightly here and there to get more comfortable, running a hand through your hair as you resist the urge to smile back at Jeongguk when he gives you a look. When you bring your arm down from your hair, Jeongguk snags it, guiding your hand to your cunt. But when you start to play yourself he stops you, tuttingly.

 “Don’t touch, just– open up for me,” he instructs, “Show me.”

 Jeongguk groans under his breath when you do as he says. When he stroked over your pussy lips just a moment ago, they were plush and smooth, soft to the touch with your arousal tucked neatly between your folds. But with them spread, he can see how you’re glossy with slick; so dewy when he’s barely even touched you. 

 “You’re already so wet. How long have you been like this, hmm?” he wonders aloud, gathering a small bit of the sticky clear at your opening with his finger before just barely pushing it inside. Kind of like he’s trying to put the little droplet back where it came from; not let it go to waste. Then he brings his touch to your clit and your pussy slick aids the up and down swipes of his thumb. 

 “Ah– fuck,” you faintly gasp. 

 Jeongguk’s cock pulses as you bring your other hand down, using both to spread yourself open more and pull back the hood of your clit. Making sure his touch is direct and the sensation feels as good as possible. The thought of you already being so greedy for pleasure is enough for him to leak, precum surely leaving a wet patch in his briefs. 

 Even though he’s being gentle, when he rubs over your exposed clit, you shy away from his touch despite being so fiendish for it. Jeongguk babies you with a coo because he knows that you’re probably so sensitive. You gave yourself almost no time to warm up, afterall. 

 “Too much?” he asks you.

 With a shake of your head, you say, “No, no… just– slowly, please.”

 Your words make him smile and he gives your inner thigh a honeyed kiss for being so good. The smile lingers because slow is the pace he always intended to use, at your request or not. It’s how he intends to finish you too. For the first time, at least. 

 Jeongguk keeps that slow speed until your body relaxes and another few drops of clear slick drip for your cunt. The thumb of his other hand rubs softly over your taint as he collects what you leak and tucks it back inside. Your pussy clenches and your hole puckers at the sensation every time, and it makes him fucking throb. 

 The thumb on your clit only speeds up enough for it to not be torturous or agonizingly slow, the pace satisfying but remaining lax and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. Once he finds a good rhythm, he keeps the motions constant and consistent.

 When you start to get antsy and fidget, he smiles to himself knowingly. 

 “Feels good, baby?” he asks you, and when you nod, he whispers, “Yeah? Look so pretty…”

 And you didn’t lie. It does feel good. But he doesn’t go any faster. He doesn’t push the fingers at your opening in any farther. And after a handful of seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours– there still isn’t any indication that he plans to.  

 When you roll your hips, trying to hint at what you want, Jeongguk stops you with a scolded tsk, telling you to stay still. The sound you let out is frustrated and petulant.

 There’s a taunting note in Jeongguk’s voice when he says, “I thought you said it feels good?”

 “It does,” you tell him, “But– faster?”

 Jeongguk’s expression is entertained, chuffed even. “I told you I was gonna take my time with you. Need you to be patient for me, baby–”

 “Please–”

 “Hush, ___.” 

 There’s still lingering amusement in his tone, but there’s also a sharpness, a hint of disapproval and something stern that wasn’t there before. It’s enough of a warning to silence the begging on the tip of your tongue. 

 “I’ll get you there, baby,” he says, his voice sweet again. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

 It’s quiet for a moment. Then–

 “I changed my mind, it doesn’t feel good.”

 Jeongguk doesn’t even look up from your pussy when he asks a preoccupied, “No?” Then he peeks at you, and when you give a pouty nod he hums. It’s smiling and mirthful when he dismisses you. “Well, don’t worry. It will soon.”

 Jeongguk is content between your thighs, still playing with your clit slowly. He only checks on you when your squirming mostly stops and you become suspiciously mute. 

 He snorts when he sees you scowling at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” After a few seconds with no response, he continues with, “Oh, so you’re going to be difficult now?”

 You shrug, snooty. 

 Laughing, he asks, “You’re really gonna act like it doesn’t feel good?” The corners of his lips curl softly and his eyes narrow like he’s scrutinizing you. His head tilts a little when he continues with, “Like you’re not leaking, right now? Like you wouldn’t be making a mess on your sheets if I wasn’t helping you?”

 Jeongguk watches your cheeks steadily turn a deep pink at his words until you look away from him, turning your nose in the air. You probably would have covered your face with your hands to avoid his gaze had they not been occupied.

 He chuckles again when he’s only met more silence. Just the slightest squirm when he tucks another leaked droplet back into your cunt. To make a point.

 “That’s okay, you can be mad at me as long as you’re patient, too,” he says, tone grossly fond and a perfect example of the patience he wants from you. “Still gonna make you cum. Still gonna be good to you and give you what you want.”

 And it seems what people say about patience being a virtue and all that, is true. Because just like Jeongguk said, with just a bit more time and some decorum, it does start to feel even better.   

 Like the way he’s been touching you, the come-up is slow and steady. The hot waves of pleasure that ebb in your lower belly. The rise and fall of your chest that gradually gets faster. The noises that get harder and harder to keep in. 

 Jeongguk doesn’t need to hear you, though, to know he’s getting you there. But he’s enjoying this brattier side of you –he remembers you being difficult every now and then, but overall you were always so good for him; never fought him too hard on things– so he humors you by asking, “Starting to feel nice, baby?”

 Everso tart, you shrug again, looking off to the side. 

 Still, Jeongguk doesn’t need to see your face to know he’s getting you there. Your pussy is a whistleblower, telling him everything he needs to know. Your cunt– leaking non-stop, contracting constantly. Your tiny clit– now puffy and swollen from all his attention. 

 Your fingers holding your pussy lips apart for him have a mild tremor. Your brows are arched when you finally give him your attention again, watching his thumb swipe up and down, over and over again. Your legs are beginning to tremble beside him. Your head is lulling back, and your lungs are exhaling a lewd sigh. 

 “I– I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly.

 Jeongguk purrs, is just about to tease you and your stubbornness with something along the line of ‘Really? Thought it didn’t feel good, ___’. But he doesn’t get the chance because of how close the string in you is to snapping. How it’s pulled so taut that it has you near tears, that slow and steady come-up finally peaking.

 “Oh my god, Gguk– my– my pussy’s gonna cum,” you cry quietly, legs shaking as you struggle to keep them open.

 “Mhm, I told you, baby,” he hums, smug, “Let me see how good it feels.”

 Your face is turned into your shoulder, but you nod for him. Focusing on the ruining, slow, consistent rubbing of his thumb. The pleasure is so mind-numbingly good that, as much as you want to cum, you try to make it last as long as possible. 

 Which isn’t much longer at all, only a few more vertical swipes over your clit is all you can handle before you’re mewing a soft warning and cumming so hard your body convulses.

 “That’s my girl. So pretty, baby. Did so good; always such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk praises, full of lust-filled awe as he watches you finish. He feels your clit pulsing under his thumb and he sees your cunt squeezing repeatedly around nothing and now he that he’s not preventing it, he sees how your pussy cums– leaking everything that he tucked away and dripping down to your sheets. Making a mess like he knew it would.

 He continues to rub your clit until your body twitches, curling in on yourself as you close your legs and bring them to your chest. Wrapping your arms around the backs of your knees and pulling your legs to your chest, you curl into yourself for protection as Jeongguk moves to shed himself of the rest of his clothes. Then he sits on his heels while he watches you, amused. 

 Even though you’ve made a great attempt at hiding your pussy away, with the way you’re positioned it still peeks out from between your thighs. Puffy and shiny. 

 You’re on your back with your eyes closed, still catching your breath. The feel of Jeongguk’s hands on you makes you jump, and when his touch moves form the backs of your thighs closer to your sensitive cunt, you whine, kicking at his arms weakly.

 “Shh,” he murmurs, “I won’t touch, I just want to look.”

 Somewhat soothed by his words, you begin to shift to a more relaxed position but Jeongguk pushes your legs back together and your knees back to your chest. 

 You gripe at being manhandled. “What if I want to see, too?” 

 “You don’t need to see if I tell you what I see,” Jeongguk reasons.

 “It’s mine,” you argue.

 “Ours,” he corrects.

 After telling Jeongguk that he’s dumb and asking him to please shut up, both of you dissolve into a fit of laughter. When you kick again, trying to get his shoulder as punishment, he gets a grip on your leg before you can land the hit and he kisses your ankle. You sigh.

 It’s quiet, and you’re content letting Jeongguk pet at you, listening as he tells you about what he sees. He says cute a few times. Wet, messy. His fingers brush over your folds, even plumper than before, and you can feel the sticky wetness that stays behind when he moves his touch to somewhere else.

 When he uses his thumbs to part your pussy lips, you hear him whine. The breathy noise makes you grin, and you hum lightly. 

 “Still cute?” you ask aloud. Eyes on the ceiling, smile still on your lips.

 Jeongguk knows he said he wouldn’t touch, but he doesn’t think you’re too sensitive anymore. He still bypasses your clit just in case when he slowly runs his fingertip to your opening. When he presses into the second knuckle, you moan sweetly and the sound mixes with the audible wetness. There’s a crystalline string still attached to his finger when he pulls away. 

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk hums, answering your question. “But so messy.”

 You bite your lip when Jeongguk slips his finger in again, a little father this time. 

 “Clean me up, then,” you whisper, airy and wispy. 

 Jeongguk hums and when you look to the sound, you can see him peeking at you over your bent knees that are still pulled to your chest. He scrunches his nose at you cutely, and you mirror the curve of his lips.

 “I guess I should, since I’m the one who made you make such a mess,” he hums, like he’s mulling it over. But the fact that he does so while lowering his face to your cunt shows that he’s already made his decision. 

 In this position, you can’t see him and it makes you tense in anticipation while you wait.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a little mean to keep you waiting, but he can see you so perfectly like this. Can see how you’re trying control your arousal and calm yourself down with deep breaths. He can see how it’s not working.

 “You’re shaking,” he observes dreamily. 

 Your pussy leaks and he watches that glossy slick drip down. He uses his pointer finger to play with the droplet at your hole, swirling the dewiness around the cinched muscle.

 The sigh you let out is stuttered, and your hole clenches under his touch before you force yourself to relax again. You swallow your embarrassment before you admit, “I want it really bad, Gguk.”

 You sound like you’re close to crying and Jeongguk soothes you with wet kisses on your thighs. 

 “All you have to do is ask, baby,” Jeongguk tells you gently. His kisses move till they’re right next to your pussy, his tongue poking out to lick just outside your folds. His thumbs pull you open and he blows lightly.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper. 

 Jeongguk’s voice is full of flirty, mirth when he asks, “What do you say? Hmm?”

 The heartbeat in your cunt is the only thing you can focus on. The pulsing is so loud and strong that it drowns everything else out. You don’t even really hear it when you sigh a hazy, “Please, sir.” 

 Predictably, your words go straight to his cock. But weirdly enough, he also feels them in his heart? He can’t explain it but somehow the lust thrumming through him melts into something fond? A lovesick impulse has him opening your legs so he can slot himself in between.

 He doesn’t lay on you but holds himself above on a braced arm. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek as he looks at you. The corners of your eyes are damp, confirming the tears he thought he had heard in your voice earlier. Your lips are redder and a bit swelled, probably from you pulling them between your teeth.  

 Jeongguk kisses the corner of one eye, then the other, and then your lips. His thumb glides over your cheekbone. He sounds gentle when he says, “No ‘sir’ today, okay? Just Gguk.”

 You nod in his hold. 

 “Good girl,” he smiles, soft and sweet. “I’ll clean you up now, won’t tease you anymore.”

 You breathe a relieved sigh as Jeongguk kisses all the way down your tummy and you think about how good it’s going to feel, after all this time, to have his mouth all over your cunt. To feel his tongue licking into you, deep and slow. To feel his lips wrapping around your clit with light sucks. 

 The closer Jeongguk gets to your pussy, the harder it is to keep still. He smiles as you squirm and you can feel it in the juncture of your inner thigh where his mouth has strayed. It’s not too long before he gets back on track, kissing his way to your pussy till his lips are tucked between your plush folds and the tip of his tongue is circling your clit. 

 Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as you sit up, resting on your elbows to watch him. Just the sight of him is enough to make the first surge of heat curl in your belly. He’s got his eyes closed, lashes sitting pretty on the highs of his cheek as he licks at you. Cleaning you up and making a mess of you all at once. 

 “You look so pretty,” you whisper as you card a hand through his hair, pushing the stands off his forehead and out of his face.

 Without stopping his tongue, Jeongguk glances up at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He moans pleased and happy into your pussy. Only pulls away for a second to whisper a cute ‘thank you’.

 His tongue is busy and so are his hands, running them up your body. When he gets to your tits, he’s harsh. Digging in and squeezing with palms that are just as greedy as his mouth. He uses the hold he has on them to pull himself closer, push his tongue deeper. The harshness of his touch makes you hiss, the hand you have in his hair tugging. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes roll back a little before he loosens grip, squeezing your tits once more, gently this time, as an apology. Then he’s smoothing his palms along your waist till one’s wrapped around your thigh and the other’s resting on your tummy.  

 He pulls away briefly to look at you, offering a sheepish grin before he pecks just above your slit. The hand he has on your belly absently fiddles with your bellyring.

 “Sorry,” he says, “I just– I don’t know, I didn’t notice how rough I was being.”

 You hum while you rest your feet on his back and wiggle your toes. 

 “I think I’ve just been wanting you for so long…” He turns his head and nuzzles into your leg by his head, his hair tickling the sensitive skin. “And now that I have you, I–” His lips graze your inner thigh with every word and when he’s at the softest part, he bites gently. 

 On a sigh, you ask, “You what?”

 Resting where his teeth just were, he tilts his head, looking up at you. “It’s hard for me to control myself. I just– can’t get enough of you.” His words are said with a sigh and uttered in between roaming wet kisses. 

 After he promises he’ll be more careful with you, he begins to lick broad stripes over your cunt. When you spread your legs wider, you can feel the flat of his tongue against your clit. But it’s just slightly, just a brush of his tongue. 

 “My clit,” you moan, looking down your nose at him, “Play with my clit.”

  He hums, pulling back a little. With your legs parted so wide, your pussy lips are spread just enough for him to see the little bud. He watches you as he uses the very tip of his tongue, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive spot just under your hood.

 Your brows pinch and your legs twitch as they naturally try to inch close, the feel of Jeongguk’s tongue so good and so much that your body is already on the verge of being overwhelmed. 

 “Ah– yeah, like that, Gguk,” you sigh letting your head roll back, basking in how good he’s making you feel, “Keep licking my pussy like that.”

 Your eyes lull shut while you let him make you feel good, and it’s then that you notice his hand on your tummy is still toying with your piercing. It’s distracting only for a moment, only before you realize that every time he does something to your clit with his tongue, he does the same to the dangly part of the jewelry with his fingers.

 When Jeongguk circles your clit, he twirls the charm. When he licks up and down over your clit, the little heart gets flicked too. When he suctions his lips and sucks your clit in and out of his mouth, he tugs gently on your belly ring.

 You can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose. One part of you thinking the patterns match up too well for it to be unconscious, the other part thinking it could just be an absentminded coincidence. You also can’t be sure why the nuanced touches are making the pleasure in your gut curl so tight; burn so hot.

 “Gguk– you’re gonna make me cum again…” you drone, lustdrunk. 

 He smiles while his tongue continues to lick lightly. “Am I?”

 While looking down your body at him, you nod. Your body already pulling taut with the tension that always preludes your orgasms.

 Jeongguk’s lips wrap around your clit and he gives a quick sucking kiss before he pulls away with a little pop! sound. “Not yet, I’m not done cleaning you up.”

 Groaning, you throw your head back. “You said you weren’t gonna tease anymore.”

 “I did,” he confirms, his big palms finding the backs of your thighs and pushing them back, “But not so you could cum– so I could clean up your mess–”

 “Your mess–”

 “Our mess,” he amends, the tips of his fingers straying to the newly exposed parts of you. Jeongguk brushes over your hole, and you suck in a small gasp. “You’re messy here too, baby.”

 Whining softly, you squirm as Jeongguk presses light, sucking kisses into your skin and there’s a subconscious urge to close your legs to keep him from getting where he so clearly intends. At the first signs of subtle hesitance, you feel his hands hold your legs open more firmly

 “Let me?” he breathes, “Please?”

 And something about how his voice is so soft –hazy and dreamy and full of so much lust and desire– has you relaxing, giving in. Docile and pliant in his hands. 

 You suppose some things may never change.

 The first feel of his tongue tasting you where no one has before makes you exhale a shaky sigh. Your hole puckering under the featherlight licks he gives. When he circles the cinched muscle, your mouth falls open and you look down your body and between your open legs to where Jeongguk already has his eyes on you. 

 His eyes get little puffs under them when he sees your reaction and smiles. The confusedly pleasured pinch of your brows. The tense way your hands grip the sheets under you.

 Giving your cheek a quick peck, he asks, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

 It makes the memory of him –hot and hard and leaking with your tongue on his hole– flash in your mind. It reminds you that he knows what he’s doing to you, that he knows he’s making you feel good because you made him feel the same way. Sure the anatomy’s different, but a tongue is a tongue and a hole is a hole. 

 In lieu of being difficult, you answer him with a moan; with your head hitting your pillows again.

 That’s confirmation enough for Jeongguk as he echoes your moan with his own. He wraps his lips around the tight muscle in a nasty wet kiss and then drags his tongue up and along your leaking center till he’s at your clit where he plays until he works you into a whiny mess.

 You’re tensing, and he can feel how your body shifts as your chest expands with the deep breaths you’re taking. Like you’re trying to focus and keep yourself earthbound by delaying the impending high. 

 It’s a high that’s inevitable though, and you have a warning on the tip of your tongue only for it to go to waste when Jeongguk makes his way down again as soon as he senses it.

 And he repeats this– alternating between rimming you tauntingly and eating you till he can tell you’re right on the edge. You can feel how he smirks and you’re sure it’s amusement that you can hear prettying up little noises he purrs. His continuous teasing has you letting out barely contained whiny keens. 

 But Jeongguk can tell you’re doing your best to behave. The brattish way about you from before is nowhere to be seen. Not even when he feels your body slump for the nth time, panting from another almost-orgasm he takes away.   

 “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Jeongguk wonders aloud, pulling back a little to see how your pussy clenches in anticipation.

 He hears you swallow, flicks his eyes up to watch as you bring a hand up to tug a little at your hair. It trembles a little as you bring it down to his locks.

 “I- yeah… just… please…” You tug, pulling him to your clit by the crown of his head and holding him there with both hands. “Just stay there, please…”

 You can’t help the way that you start to roll and grind against his face. Jeongguk’s lips and his tongue rubbing against you repeatedly with the up and down motion of your hips, and his nose bumping your clit a little every now and again. 

 His hands dig into your waist like he’s trying to pull you closer, suffocate himself with your cunt. It’s when he shakes his head with subtle little side to side motions over your clit that your pleasure peaks with your legs shaking before they’re closing around his head.

 You cum hard and quietly, hushed ‘don’t stop’s and ‘keep going’s tumbling from your lips as you hold his mouth against you until you can’t take it anymore. You use one hand to pull him away by the hair, your other coming down to press against your still pulsing pussy. 

 With the hold you still have in his hair, you deliriously guide and maneuver him upwards. You’re still trying to catch your breath, so the quiet awed, ‘Whoa…’ you voice sounds airy

 The position you’ve got Jeongguk in now has him straddling you across your upper torso with strong thighs caging you in. His cock bobbing a little right in your face. Heavy and flushed, the tip an angry shade of pink and shiny with precum. It’s instinctive when you reach out with your small hand to wrap around the base. And again, something awe-filled tumbles from your mouth.

 “You’re so hard…” 

 The words float past your lips in the form of a breathless whisper, your lashes fluttering as your gaze jumps from his cock to his face. Your hand strokes lightly, just your fingertips running over the warm, silky skin. 

 “Missed you,” Jeongguk says with a tiny, unabashed shrug. As if that’s explanation enough for the state he’s in.

 He smiles with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth and you smile back.

 The pad of your thumb rubs at the underside of the crown when a drop of precum leaks, massaging it in messily. “Can I use my mouth?”

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk sounds, not trusting his voice enough to not shake.

 You begin by placing weighted kisses along his length, starting at the base till your lips pucker around the slit. The heady taste of precum makes you purr, moaning softly. Jeongguk’s hips cant forward, and when you glance up you can see how his head has rolled back.

 Smiling at how affected he already is by the smallest things, you run your teeth over the sensitive head. You anticipate the hiss that Jeongguk sucks in. Your tongue swirls around to soothe and to taste before your mouth opens to swallow. 

 The tip of his cock barely grazes the back of your throat before Jeongguke is pulling his hips back and choking just slightly on the whiny gasp that gets caught in his throat. He threads a hand in your hair and tugs you off. 

 Your forehead is resting against his lower tummy, and you giggle a little before you kiss at the slight jutting of his hipbone. His cock throbs, and he groans.

 “What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling into him.

 You can feel his fingers massage lightly at your scalp, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking down at you, lovesick as he rolls his eyes at your playfully. 

 “Go slow, okay?” he asks softly, “Tease me a little?”

 Closing your eyes briefly as you let the sound of his moonstruck voice wash over you, you kiss sweetly at his hip once more before giving small kitten licks to the warm, flushed skin of his cock. He sighs like he’s in love.

 “Like this?” you ask, coquettishly. 

 Jeongguk nods when you look up at him with your mouth open and the tip of your tongue flicking lightly.

 “Lick the tip,” he whispers while he gets a hold of himself and guides it to your mouth. 

 You keep your eyes on him as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue with long licks.

 “Good… that’s good baby…” he says airily.

 Jeongguk glances down his nose at you for just a moment longer before his head is rolling back, and he’s moaning. His little sounds are quiet, but they’re almost constant. And you’re really not doing much, just licking softly at his frenulum, but you can already feel how his cock is getting stiffer, can see how the muscles in his tummy tense and untense… like he’s already getting close.

 Kissing the crown, you pull away, stroking over him lazily. Squeezing at the base when he kicks in your palm. “Already?” you ask gently.

 Jeongguk’s eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but at your choice of words, he laughs lightly. “Yes, already,” he tells you, pointedly. “That’s why I said to go slow.”

 Slow is good for you. Slow lets you take it all in. Take all of him in. 

 Slow lets you tease drop after drop of precum out; lets you coax your name from Jeongguk’s lip over and over again until you’re sure you’ll hear his lovechants in your dreams tonight. Slow lets you memorize the way that his hands twitch wherever they touch you, how he gasps when your tongue does something that feels extra nice, how he whines when you bring your free hand up and roll his balls in your palm. 

 He’s a bit predictable, endearingly so with the blush on his cheeks as he urges the hand toying with his balls a little farther back. You smile to yourself as you touch him, rubbing at his taint and taking a moment to just watch his face. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes are shut, mouth just barely parted. His brows pinch just slightly when you inch your touch farther back and the cinched muscle clenches briefly under your fingertips, before he relaxes. It’s light and hazy when he whispers, “Yeah, baby…”

 The light circles you’re tracing around Jeongguk’s hole have his cock throbbing. You have to wrap your lips around the head to keep him still enough to taste and properly tease, sucking with tiny bobs of your head as you drink down everything he leaks. 

 “I– ___, oh my god–” Jeongguk pants, looking down at you, like he can’t believe you or your mouth, can’t believe how good it feels to have you again. 

 You hum, lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock as you smile up at him as best you can. His chest expands with a sharp inhale when you press your fingers a littler firmer against his hole.

 “Want me to put them in?” you ask between the soft open-mouthed kisses you press to his cock.

 The sound that Jeongguk lets out makes your kisses cease and has you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Your thighs rub together, and your pussy is needy between them.  

 Jeongguk’s never done it before, at least not fully and with someone else. But the thought alone is almost enough to make him finish. It would be a first for you and him, together. Something he’s been wanting, craving.

 He’s still trying to get his thoughts in order when you prompt him with a patient, ‘Hmm?’. 

 “I- No, no–” he ends up saying, “Just– just play with me.”

 It’s sighed, laced with lust and contentment. Having you right now, just playing as he said, is more than enough for him. The anticipation does feel nice though, hot and sweet like a whispered promise of next time. Jeongguk wonders if you’ll ruin him. 

 “You just want me to play?” you ask, “You don’t want to cum?”

 And Jeongguk’s sure you will. Ruin him, that is. If you haven’t already.

 Your voice comes out lovily teasing, and your hands stay busy while you look up at him, eyes big and so pretty. Lips glossy with spit, maybe a little bit of his precum. 

 “Not– not yet?” 

 Jeongguk’s voice sounds unsure in your ears, and his actions contradict his words when you bring your lips to his leaking tip. His hips roll forward seemingly on their own accord, the most sensitive part of his cock rubbing against your tongue that you’ve pillowed underneath the crown. 

 A choked little whine falls from his open mouth before his head is lulling back and his hands are coming to your hair. Humming, you suction your lips around the head and bring the hand you don’t have busy to his hips, urging him to keep rocking his hips, slow so you can keep the pressure from your tongue constant. 

 “Oh my god– baby… baby–” Jeongguk moans, his gaze back on you. His brows furrowed and arched up, his mouth agape. 

 Under your touch, you can feel his muscles tense. How his breaths come out huffed and strained. How he sometimes tries to pull his hips away before he pushes them in like he rethought it, maybe like he never meant to. How no matter how hard he tries to keep from doing it, the stalling pace of his hips picks up.

 And you can tell he’s going to cum. 

 He keeps muttering these fucked out little whispers of your name, of baby, of my baby. Almost like they’re warnings, maybe pleas. But not pleas for you to stop, or tease him anymore. You can hear the difference, can feel it in the way he touches you. Can taste it on your tongue with every heavy drop of precum that he’s leaking.  

 It’s like a string snaps in him, when he groans something deep and dissonant and his hips stop all together and his hold in your hair turns almost painful as he uses his grip to work your mouth over his cock.

 “Yeah,” he breathes, “Don’t fucking stop… Gonna make me fucking cum–”

 His cock is throbbing in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence. Coating your tongue in so many thick, hot shots of white. You hum, moving your fingers from massaging his taint so that you can roll his balls in your palm. 

 Jeongguk’s hand is shaking a little when he brings it down to cup your face, when he gently pulls you off him. His cock still fat and bobbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He guides your gaze to his.

 He’s bracing himself above you with his forearm against your headboard, looking down at you a little sweaty and so flushed. Chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He’s got a little smile on his face when he runs the pad of his thumb over the plump of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively. The little smile on his lips grows before he’s biting it down.

 His thumb presses down on the fleshy muscle, and you naturally let your lips wrap around it.

 “Good girl,” he says, softly.

 His words are tangible, and you close your eyes and you smile as you just let the praise glide over your body. It’s almost like you can feel each letter press a kiss into your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s a copycat as he too presses kisses here and there while he resituates himself. Going from straddling your ribcage to finding his home between your legs. Until you manuver him once more. He’s still home, between your legs, but on his back with you straddling him now.

 Jeongguk doesn’t complain at the manhandling. Just looks up at you, rubs little nonsensical patterns just above the creases of your thighs. 

 “Can we do it now?”

 His laugh is bright and loud at first before he gets a hold of himself, but he’s still smiling as he lets his shining eyes and his hands wander. His fingertips trialing over your skin until his gets his hands to your tits. His thumbs flick over your nipples while he hums, amused. 

 “Now you have to wait for me to be ready again,” he tells you conversationally, still teasing you.

 You pout playfully, letting your own fingers explore, tracing the line of ink where his sleeve comes to an end on his shoulder. “So boring, Gguk,” you jest.

 He scrunches his nose at you. “Why do you think I told you, ‘not yet’?”

 Rolling your eyes, you reposition yourself; less over his torso and more over his hips. “Well,” you start, lowering your pussy down to where his cock lays flat on his tummy, “Waiting doesn’t have to be boring.” You drag your cunt over his still plump, but not-quite hard cock. 

 One of his hands quickly jerks down to get a hold of your hips and stop your movements. He hisses.. 

 He says something about how he never said it had to be boring as you reach between your bodies and get a hold of his half-hard cock. Goes on about how he literally just came and how he needs a second to recuperate as you bring the head to your wet opening. 

 “Can I?” you ask vaguely, interrupting him.

 He doesn’t say anything more, just gives you the littlest nod and he squeezes his eyes shut while you squeeze him into you. He’s not there yet, but he’s still sensitive and its still a tight fit.

 Jeongguk looks down his chest to where you’re sitting prettily on his slowly hardening cock. His eyes roll back slightly before he’s scrubbing one of his hands over his face. “You’re–”

 “Did you watch our video?” you interrupt again. 

 Stuttering a little bit, and winching some, Jeongguk uses the couple of seconds it takes for you to bring yourself down to him, to think. 

 “No, felt guilty… tried to hold out completely but ended up giving in and thinking about you…” he says, his hands finding their place at your hips.. 

 His answer isn’t what you expected but it still has you smiling softly, chest to chest, resting on your elbows, and playing with his hair. “And what did you think about?” you muse, words breathy and flirty.

 Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively dart to your curved lips. “Your mouth.”

 You scrunch your nose at him cutely as you ask, “On your cock?” 

 He gasps when you grind your hips just a little, the movement stiffening his cock up that much more. Jeongguk can feel his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head, the hands he has on your hips moving to your thighs and then back up, squeezing and making little chills crawl across your skin.  

 “On my lips…” he admits quietly, licking them. “Missed kissing you.”

 With a heart that grows fond in your chest, you lean down and give what he missed. Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, melts underneath you. He cranes his neck and the kiss deepens, his tongue slipping in between your lips. It’s not until you having him moaning softly into your mouth that you disconnect from him and make your way to his ear. 

 “Thought about you too,” you tell him, “touched myself to the thought of you missing me; wrapping your hand around your cock with me on your mind.”

 Jeongguk’s fingertips dig into the fatty part of your ass, latches his lips onto the junctre between your neck and your shoulder. He sinks his teeth in just a touch to quiet his moan. 

 The whiny moise that you let out precedes the, “I fanatasized about the way you would fuck me when you came back to me–”

 “I wanted to, but I just felt so bad–”

 “Shh,” you hush him, “Doesn’t matter now…”

 You finally make to move your hips for real this time, but lifting them has you letting out a tiny hiss of pain that’s followed by a cute, airy laugh. “Almost forgot how big you are.”

 Jeongguk’s heart was just tugging inside his chest but now his cock is throbbing inside of you. Even as he wonders if there’s been anyone since him. 

 But once you get over that first hint of pain, past the initial sting of him stretching and filling you up, the only wonder is how Jeongguk survived without you for so long. 

 The light from your blinds peaks through your hair; wild and messy and draping over your shoulder. The long strands almost act as a curtain, hiding you and Jeongguk away. Spots of sunshine come through here and there, and they hit different parts of your body as your body becomes his body. On the tip of your nose, over the curve of your breast, the tops of your thighs. 

 And Jeongguk’s knows he is so fucking lucky. Not because he gets to have you like this –warmed by his touched and sunlight– but because he gets to have it again. Because he gets another chance at having you at all, after fucking it up once already.

 “Gguk,” you pant, “I feel so good right now.” 

 You’ve gone from bouncing on his cock, to griding on it, feeling his tip rub against the deepest parts of you. Your palms are flat on his lower tummy, and when he grabs your hips, helping you move back and forth on him, your nails dig into the muscle. 

 It makes him moan, quiet like the little sounds that you can’t stop making. 

 Jeongguk knows he was basically on the verge of tears just a second ago, but he is still a man and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Who’s making you feel so good baby?”

 He can tell how fucked out and how close you are because of how easily you answer him. How being stubborn and bratty doesn’t even seem to cross your mind when you moan, “You, it’s always you.” 

 Pulling you to his chest and fucking up into your cunt is much sweeter than it probably seems. He does so to be close to you, to feel your chest against his, to feel how your body shakes as you get closer, to feel how you bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your moans and cries.

 “Yeah–” you sob into his skin, “you’re gonna make me cum– please– please, can I cum?”

 Your words come out staccato and irregular, punched out one by one by his cock as he fucks you faster. But Jeongguk doen’t say anything yet, just focuses on the slick sounds your pussy is making everytime he bottoms out, on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of the slick, velvety heat, on how his fingers sink into your ass as he squeezes and tugs and pulls your cheeks apart to bury himself as deep as he can when he cums with you. 

 “Fuck, baby cum for me,” Jeongguk pants, his words a little rushed as he feels it all come to a head, “Cum all over my fucking cock while I cum in your pussy.”

 You don’t say anything when you cum, and neither does Jeongguk. Both cumming with nothing but gasps. Your’s sounding sweet, almost awed, as you just let your cunt squeeze and contract around Jeongguk’s cock, almost like you forgot you could cum that hard. Jeongguk’s are more guttural as his cock throbs, pulsing with each shot of cum he pumps into your pussy.

 ~~~

 “Your roommates are actually terrifying.”

 The voice makes you smile, laughing sleepily, eyes closed for just a moment longer before you turn your head to see a dishevelleddly dressed Jeongguk, holding a single glass of water in his hand. 

 He shrugs off his blazer that he’s wearing over his briefs (you’ve helped yourself to his button up), and sits next to where you’re laying down. He nudges you his foot till you sit up and take the water from him.

  It’s a content type of quiet while you both pass the glass back and forth, sharing. It only last for a minute or two before Jeongguk is clearing your throat.

 “So… what happened to your plant, hmm?”

 He must have seen the pitiful looking succulent in your living room when he went to get the water. And you know he’s just messing around and that he only said it to strike conversation and fill the silence, but still, it makes something ugly stir in your gut. 

 “You didn’t remind me,” you say, trying to literally shrug it off and give the topic a quick stop.

 But Jeongguk is giggling as he says back, “Oh, so it’s my fault?”

 “Everything is your fault.”

 It’s snappy and said with enough bitterness that Jeongguk is physically taken aback. But then he thinks and then he softens.

 “Hey,” he says gently.

 You look at him, eyes swirling with a mixture of anger and hurt. 

 Jeongguk brushes a little bit of your hair out of your face as he looks you over. “I know,” he acknowledges quietly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but I hope with some time, you’ll be able to see it.”

 You frown a little before giving him a sad small smile and you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. He turns into the touch and gives your palm a soft kiss.

 “I know you’re sorry,” you tell him, “I know you are and I forgive you –my head knows that but– my heart is still sad.”

 Something about how you say it reminds Jeongguk of how young you are. But not in the way it did before. Not like your youth is a burden, or a red flag. It just reminds him that he needs to be careful with you. 

 “I know, and that’s okay… I know it’s going to take time,” Jeongguk gives you a sad, yet understanding shrug.

 And for once, it’s a good thing that time does what time is meant to. It passes and it allows things to grow; for things to heal. 

 “Speaking of time,” you say, lightheartedly trying to change the subject, “How long do I have you?”

 “As long as you want me.”

 Jeongguk’s reply is met with the most underwhelmed, flat stare you have every given him. He snorts before he says, “Till tomorrow afternoon– I have to pick up Nari.”

 His heart feels like it’s going to explode in his chest when he sees how your eyes light up at the mention of his daughter, at how you jabber on with questions about her. How has she been?, Is she talking yet?, Does she still have that narwhal?

 There’s a chance that he might regret it, but there’s also a chance that he might not. 

 So he asks, “Do you want to come with me?” 

 ~~~ 

 However long Jeongguk said it takes to get to his ex-wife’s house, all those months ago, escapes you.

 But right now, it feels like 10 years and 10 minutes all at once. 

 It’s dramatic, yes, how terribly you’ve been fidgeting in the passenger seat of the Mercedes. Even Jeongguk’s big, warm hand petting at your knee can’t quell the nerves.

 It’s making the atmosphere tense, and you feel bad when Jeongguk sounds like he’s walking on eggshells when he tells you, “Thank you for coming with me, I’m really happy you did.”

 You feel even worse when you respond with, “I don’t think I want to go to the door with you.”

 The ever-soothing hand on your leg stutters for barely a second before continuing just as it was.

 “That’s totally fine,” he assures you, eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to, but if you change your mind, you can. It is your choice.”

 The hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly. 

 And it’s quiet for the rest of the drive. Until Jeongguk is pulling into an empty spot in the driveway of a very big, very nice house. Right next to a Porsche. 

 “Of fucking course.”

 “___.”

 “No, you’re right,” you say, raising your hands appeasingly, “You’re right, I shouldn’t even be surprised–”

 Jeongguk interrupts you with his hands on your cheeks and his lips on your. 

 “Shut.” He gives you one kiss. “Up.” He gives you two kiss.

 His affection makes the tension in your body dissipate and your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”

 With his thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks, he gives you a small, understanding, patient smile. Then he asks if you’re sure about not coming to the door with him because he is stupid. 

 You tell him as much as you reiterate how you do not want to go to the door and this time, Jeongguk is the one raising his hands in surrender as he exits the car.

 Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

 Should you get out of the car? Wait inside? Should you have brought Nari a gift? Will she remember you? What if she doesn’t?

 When you hear a distant, familiar baby-giggle, you end up opening the door and standing between Jeongguk’s car and Dasom’s. You feel a little dumb until you hear the pitter patter of little feet on the brick driveway. 

 “I have a surprise for you Nana,” you hear Jeongguk sing cutely.

 And you hear Nari gasp excitedly in response, even cuter.

 As the pair get closer, you can see Jeongguk’s top half over the car, how his arm is swinging back and forth because of the tiny hand that’s holding his where you can’t see.

 Nari is dressed in a black jumper dress with a long-sleeved heart-patterned shirt on underneath when she pops out from behind the car and next to her dad. Kept warm from the slight chill in the air by her knitted tights and her teeny-tiny ugg boots. She’s still round, but she’s gotten taller and you coo softly to yourself.

 But Nari hears the little noise you make and when she sees you, she stops in her tracks. Her little bobble head looking between you and Jeongguk. Then she’s tugging on her dad’s pinky that she’s got a hold of.

 “___!” she says as she nods towards you, like she’s letting Jeongguk know that you’re right there. She sounds sure, almost a little bossy. Doesn’t stutter even a second to remember you. Kind of like she never forgot you. 

 “Ah– what’s with the nodding missy?” Jeongguk tuts, then he looks at you and shakes his head exasperated yet amused. 

 Nari has the nerve to giggle, a big girl no longer brought to tears by her daddy’s scoldings. She looks up at him grinning before she shrugs, like she doesn’t know what got into her. As she raises her little shoulders, her free hand comes up too for emphasis. And gripped tightly in her little hand is her stuffed narwhal. 

 You’re happy.

~~~~~~~~~

aaaaand SCENE. omg heyyyy long time no see girlfriends <3 i hope that u think this was worth the wait but am debilitatingly scared that it did not meet ur expectations so i am hiding <3 im sorry for how long it took but it is here now n that is all my tiny hands have to offer!!  i would love to know what u thought, so please do al the things: reblog, like, comment, send an ask~~ thank u for waiting for me and for reading ily muah :*

[glitch-karma]

Hii! Can you do Vanitas x sleepy reader? They’re kinda just sleep deprived all the time, hehe. Sorry if I’m bothering you, I hope you can do this request! <3

✧Me who started this at 2:35 am:

✧One shot

✧Cw: Gn!Reader, Fluff-ish, Reader is a vampire and Vanitas's assistant, reader struggles with insomnia, maybe ooc Vanitas, complicated relationship (still romantic-ish)

✧ probably not proof read

✧theres always crumbs for vnc so here y'all go

It was a slight chilly night as Vanitas sat on the roof of the Hotel Chouchou. The breeze of the night came through slowly, the wind flowing through his hair lightly. It was funny, how the city of Paris still looked almost alive at night. The soft glow of lights speckled the city.

Vanitas wore a dully melancholic expression as he stated at the city. It was eerily quiet as he numbly stared out.

The sound of soft foot steps approaching notified him someone was near, though he stayed perfectly still. "... It's late y'know?" He said, his face shifting to a light smirk as he looked behind him. There you stood, the eye bags under your eyes evident as you stared down at him, before turning to the city. "You're up too, non?"

He huffed as he looked away, placing his hand to his face. "This is why you're so exhausted all the time y'know?" He scolded you lightly. "It's fine." You nodded.

There was silence as you stood behind him quietly. Vanitas glanced behind him, noticing how you wore the same, dull expression he'd worn not so long ago. What could you be thinking about? Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were also a broken person such as himself. Honestly, he'd rather not think about it.

You let out a light yawn as you finally sat down beside him. Vanitas chuckled at your drowsiness as he looked back out to the city again. You sat there for a long while, just the two of you and the sounds of the dead Paris Streets.

Vanitas could feel you shiver beside him lightly as he sighed. "Why are you out here anyways? You're obviously exhausted." He said annoyed. "I'm always like this." You shook your head. He scoffed out a chuckle as he nodded. "Well duh, stating the obvious."

The eeiry silence once again enraptured the two of you. Vanitas mentally scolded himself as his thoughts couldn't be cleared of you. Your presence beside him somehow managed to break through the barriers he'd carefully constructed. It was exhausting, the way his mind couldn't ever stop thinking about you.

"I don't get it," he muttered, a hint of frustration tainting his words. "Why do you push yourself so hard, running on empty all the time?" His gaze shifted to you, attempting to decipher your expression.

You shrugged with an indifferent expression. "Dunno.." at this Vanitas stared at you more. Your gaze met his, and for a moment, something softened in his eyes. Uncomfortable with the vulnerability, he turned his attention back to the city lights.

"I guess I've been like this for awhile." You mumbled out. Vanitas glanced up at you again. "Sleep just doesn't really come that easily, even if it's all I crave. You know, you're not the only one with demons," you said softly, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "We all carry our burdens, Vanitas."

He scoffed, his wall being built within him once more. "I don't need your pity." "It's not pity," your tone was gentle. "It's understanding."

For a moment, Vanitas looked away, not wanting to listen. Then, with a sigh that carried the weight of unspoken emotions, he spoke. "Understanding won't change anything."

"Maybe. But I can hope it helps ease it.. Just being there. Even in the silence of the night." You finished.

Your words hung in the air as another silence engulfed the both of you. Vanitas found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

As Vanitas tried to regain his composure, he stole another glance at you. There was a softness in your worn out eyes that echoed the vulnerability he often tried to bury. It was a vulnerability he couldn't quite comprehend.

Vanitas sighed as he looked away again. "You talk too much." He huffed out. You merely shrugged, a small but genuine smile playing on your lips. "It's a talent, I suppose."

He let out a scoff, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps a hint of gratitude. After a few moments, another yawn escaped your lips. You glanced up at him slightly. "It's weird.. you're one of the most unbearable, scary people I've ever met." "Okay, ouch." He commented, letting you continue.

Your eyes closed for a second before opening again in defiance, "But I feel the most relaxed when I'm with you." You finished.

The contradiction between tonight's conversations and the usual banter between you two left him momentarily speechless. His attempt to mask his surprise with a scoff was futile as he grew embarrassed.

"You're delusional if you think I'm someone you should find relaxing," he retorted. Yet, the subtle tint of pink on his cheeks portrayed the effect of your words. "Probably." You mumbled out, slowly blinking.

Your yawns persisted, and a drowsy smile lingered on your lips as you observed Vanitas's futile attempts to deflect your words. "You're just spouting nonsense because you're half-asleep." He shifted away from you. "Sure, that's what I'm doing."

The silence made him glance up again, noticing you staring into the city lights, closing and reopening your eyes every few seconds. He couldn't help but stare at you for a bit, before jerking his head back to the city himself.

"You should.. Let yourself sleep." He mumbled out. You looked over with slightly surprised eyes, before your face slowly softened. "..thanks, Vanitas."

"yeah, yeah whatever.." he embarrassedly mumbled, looking away from you. You chuckled, continuing to stare at the beautiful pairs sky together.

[edenmemes]

baldur's gate 3 starters (part 2)

part 2 / ? .

❝ i’m also worried about me, but i somehow seem to be worried about you more. ❞ ❝ you put the stars to shame. let’s sit here a little while - i want to drink you in. ❞ ❝ i’d tell you not to get in trouble, but i suspect it will find you whether you like it or not. ❞ ❝ well, this seems as good a time as any for me to stop babbling on. ❞ ❝ i just��.need some air…clear my head. ❞ ❝ it’s been a long time since i shed a tear. i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had a feeling you’d show up. it’s sort of our thing. like it’s fate or something. ❞ ❝ i do appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's try to restrain ourselves a little. ❞ ❝ if that was an attempt at flirting, i should let you know i prefer the strong, silent type. ❞ ❝ no matter how far you come, you’re still on the road to ruin. ❞ ❝ i thought you a hunter. wrong. you’re prey - small. snivelling. pathetic. ❞ ❝ and what am i owed? what about the injustices i’ve suffered - am i not entitled to anything? ❞ ❝ i can’t help but feel the strangest twinge of disgust as i look upon you. ❞ ❝ i trust that you will continue to remember who is really on your side. ❞ ❝ better a short life built on truth than immortality woven of lies. ❞ ❝ i won’t make excuses. i can’t make amends. but i want to help, if you’ll let me. ❞ ❝ gods, it’s horrifying…and a touch fascinating. ❞ ❝ there are many names for you --- and all of them inspire dread. ❞ ❝ destiny is at your door; won’t you at least twitch the curtain? ❞ ❝ the gravest crimes committed in this world are committed for love. a hunger crueller than bloodlust. ❞ ❝ you’ve got a backbone, and the makings of a leader. ❞ ❝ revenge sounds so sweet until you’ve taken it. then all you have is…no one left to blame. ❞ ❝ some mistakes can’t be resolved with an apology. some mistakes, you have to carry with you, forever. ❞ ❝ you’re plotting something, aren’t you? come on then - out with it. ❞ ❝ this is not good, if i may state the obvious. ❞ ❝ think of all we’ve been through just to get to this moment. that wasn’t luck. that was us. ❞ ❝ feel like i should laugh but i’m just too godsdamned tired. ❞ ❝ there is something i lost…no, had taken from me. i want it all back. ❞ ❝ careful - you’re in very real danger of hurting my feelings. ❞ ❝ one thing i’ve learned - real saviours never label themselves as such. ❞ ❝ less thinking of bad thoughts, and more breaking of bad bones. ❞ ❝ i rather like interfering. it’s kind of my thing. ❞ ❝ evil is evil, even if it once was innocent. ❞ ❝ you know, i've been catching myself smiling more lately. i think that's your fault.. ❞ ❝ oh, i’m no innocent. but evil? you tell me. ❞ ❝ i still want to believe you’re better than that. but even i am having my doubts. ❞ ❝ i can’t afford to lose my nerve. safer to just not think, and keep forging ahead. ❞ ❝ when all this is over, will you stay with me? for good? ❞ ❝ this is not good, if i may state the obvious. ❞ ❝ is there a reason you're always such an utter drip? do you have some sort of condition? honestly, it's like you hate good news. ❞ ❝ all of nature’s beauty pales in comparison to you. ❞ ❝ i can’t save you from yourself. it hurts terribly, but i can’t. ❞ ❝ if i seem suddenly flush with hope and soft feeling, you have only yourself to blame. ❞ ❝ is there good and evil within us all? ❞

❝ i’ve been watching you fight. your skills are improving. ❞ ❝ you know, for all the sense of dread and horror seeping through this place, i really feel quite at home here. ❞ ❝ and you? you’re wholly without vice or sin or the occasional lapse in judgement? ❞ ❝ i wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are. but i do. ❞ ❝ one might say you’re paragon of luck. i’ll be there when it runs out. ❞ ❝ i've always had a soft spot for the confident ones…they always disappoint though. ❞ ❝ i concealed nothing from you. i simply left out the details that were not pertinent. ❞ ❝ you’re an odd friend. but, i suppose, a friend still. ❞ ❝ i won’t let you do this. i won’t let you win. ❞ ❝ you are my puppet. make no mistake. without me, you have no value. ❞ ❝ well, this seems like a lovely little spot. the sense of impending doom aside. ❞ ❝ whoever your enemies are, they have good reason to fear you. ❞ ❝ this place is astonishing, a bard’s tale made real. ❞ ❝ i may not regret my actions, but i do regret that they were necessary. ❞ ❝ experience has taught me that no matter how bleak things look, there’s always hope. ❞ ❝ if this adventure has taught me anything, it’s that there are things in this world more valuable than power. ❞ ❝ a wise man learns from his mistakes, and strives not to repeat them. ❞ ❝ no more hiding things from me. agreed? ❞ ❝ my friend. my companion. i adore you. ❞ ❝ your face is sour. by all means leave, if i am so distasteful. ❞ ❝ careful, it’s dark around here. would be a terrible shame to lose you forever. ❞ ❝ you startled me. i…i was miles away. ❞ ❝ you have to know who i was. you have to know who i really am. ❞ ❝ nothing special, of course. you’re only the first person who i truly care for. ❞ ❝ you’ve got a backbone, and the makings of a leader. ❞ ❝ anything you ask, i’ll answer as honestly as i can. ❞

[coff33andb00ks]

Poison - LN

Hopeless, Part 3 {1 - Hopeless} {2 - Luxury}

Lando Norris x fem!reader / reader x Charles Leclerc) summary: perfect couldn't keep this love alive, we were always meant to say goodbye songs: already gone by sleeping at last word count: 5414 warnings: angst, reader says things she shouldn't, angst, lando says worse things, angst, charles is a bad fiance, alcohol use, oscar remains the only truly decent person in this series, angst, mentions of sexual situations (not explicit), oh and angst (not a happy ending) a.n.: I've really enjoyed writing this little series. thank you all for being as obsessed with heartbroken lando as I am <3 note: this picks up immediately after the ending of the first part {Hopeless}

You can't bring yourself to read Lando's texts. You're still in shock yourself, the last twelve hours a whirlwind that still has you spinning. So you leave that message thread untouched, and when he calls you for the tenth time you send it to voicemail, knowing you won't listen to it.

The one you listened to first thing this morning left an ache in your heart you're sure will never go away.

Is it true? You… A shaky breath, like he was fighting tears. You can't. What about – call me. Please.

You can't call him. You can't even read his texts, you don't know if you'll ever be able to speak to him. Your phone buzzes and you look at the voicemail notification, turning your phone facedown on the nightstand. Not now. You need to catch up with everything that's happened.

Behind you Charles groans and you squeeze your eyes shut as his arm tightens around you. He nuzzles the back of your head, humming while he presses kisses to your shoulder.

"Good morning," he murmurs.

You murmur it back to him, watching his hand slide down your arm to clasp yours. He lifts it, the morning sunlight catching the diamond on your finger. You're engaged. You still can't believe it. How had you gone from arguing in the garage to this? The night rewinds in your mind while Charles whispers sweet words.

The argument. Why? He'd said he'd wanted to spend the summer break in St. Tropez. After promising you over and over he would spend it with your family back in the States. St. Tropez was just a couple hours from Monaco, he could go there anytime, you rarely got to see your family. But it was his summer break, his money, his choice. Four words had burned on your tongue but you'd held them back, finally storming off to cool down.

Lando would take me.

Because of course he would. It wasn't a secret between you that he'd do everything within his power to make you happy. And you'd stood in the chilly night air, tempted to ask him to come with you to Cali for break, because you knew how much he loved LA. Then Charles had found you and…

Said all the right things.

Apologized. Validated your feelings. He'd forgotten, he was sorry, he would cancel his plans of course, the two of you would spend a lovely two weeks in California. He was so sorry, please, he would make it right.

And you'd forgiven him. As you always did.

He starts to pull away from you now, and you know it's time to get up and get ready for race day. The hotel room is a ridiculous mess, clothes from last night all over the floor, tipped over candles, scattered roses. You inwardly cringe, nodding when Charles suggests leaving a large tip for housekeeping. You tidy up a little while he's in the shower, because you can't not do it.

The ring feels heavy on your hand and you stop gathering the discarded clothes to stare at it. It's beautiful, if a little on the gaudy side, a large diamond solitaire set in platinum, diamonds all around.

"I know I have made mistakes, mon amour. But you have stood by my side and made me a better man. Please, say you'll stay by my side forever?"

It had all been too much. The roses, the candles, your favorite wine, the adoration in his eyes. You'd said yes, knowing you couldn't take the pain of saying no. And you couldn't take it back. It was too late.

Late night calls to his family in Monaco, FaceTiming with your sister and mom. Candlelit photos posted to social media.

You're going to marry Charles.

It's supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life but you feel like your world is turned upside down. You're supposed to be over the moon, already planning the wedding that you've had in mind since you were a little girl.

"We'll have the wedding of your dreams, chérie."

"What about your dream wedding?"

"My dream was you."

He'd said the right things.

You shower, standing under the hot water to ease the slight aches from the night before. He'd been more passionate than ever before, driving you over the edge countless times, twisting and bending your body with his, near constantly moaning his love for you.

There's a crowd of fans outside the hotel and you blink in surprise when they begin screaming their congratulations, still unused to the attention even after being with him for over a year. You smile and stay at his side while he signs a few things, wondering if you look as shell-shocked as you feel.

Leclerc's camera shy girlfriend, they call you online. Apparently you're goals, and you wonder what they would think if they knew the truth.

At the track it's even crazier, and you're reminded that he was called the grid's most eligible bachelor when you first began dating. How'd you pin him down, y/n?

You wish you knew.

By the time you reach the motorhome you never want to hear the word congratulations again. You stop outside, letting Leo down so he can do his business, freezing when you spot a McLaren uniform.

It's Oscar. You breathe a sigh of relief, nodding when Charles kisses your cheek and says he has to go chat with Max.

"C'mon, Leo," you encourage while the puppy sniffs the ground.

"Y/n."

You look up, smiling faintly as Oscar approaches. "Hey."

He looks at you, then at your left hand, slowly lifting his eyes to your face again. "Big night, yeah?"

"Yeah." Your cheeks hurt from your forced smile. "I guess it's a shock to everyone."

"Eh… You're right," he says. Squatting down to pet Leo, he stays down, watching the puppy. "Have you seen Lando?"

"I think Oscar suspects."

It's mumbled between heated kisses in the club bathroom. Lando moans, head falling back when your hands slip inside his jeans. "No he doesn't."

"He keeps looking at us." The heavy bass vibrates the door you're pressed against, and his hands push at your dress.

"Everyone's looking at you tonight."

Your protest to that dies on a moan because he's inside you and you forget Oscar exists.

"Not today," you tell him. Finally Leo pees in the tiny scrap of grass he found and you bend to pick him up.

"Have you talked to him?" Oscar asks softly.

"Is he missing?"

Oscar sighs, pushing upright. "He's in the garage."

You glance in that direction, even though you can't see the McLaren garage from where you are. Sighing, you hold Leo close, arms aching to hold someone else. Then, like he knows you're looking, you hear your phone start to vibrate in your purse. You don't have to look to know it's Lando.

"Are you happy?"

Your head slowly turns and you hold your breath as you look at Oscar. "What?"

"Your engagement."

You part your lips to tell him yes. To push the forced smile back into place and play the part of ecstatically happy fiancée to the Charles Leclerc. But all you can do is look at him while your phone stops buzzing. You don't know why you can pretend for everyone else, but not for Oscar.

He sighs, obviously reading the answer on your face. Giving his head a little shake, he folds his arms over his chest.

"I didn't—" You stop, not wanting to say the words out loud. You can't.

He tips his head to one side. "Didn't what."

Didn't mean to hurt Lando. Didn't mean to fall in love with him. Didn't mean to ruin your life. Didn't mean to make such a mess of everything. You blink, the past few months rushing through your mind.

"He deserves the truth, y/n." He says the words softly, and you don't get to ask which he before he turns and walks away.

Ferrari is ecstatic. Good press is good press, and apparently Charles getting engaged is great press. They want photos, a quick interview for their social media. They want you front and center in the garage, and the PR person encourages you to kiss Charles before he gets into his car.

You watch from inside the garage, feeling as though you're more on display than usual, a camera always cutting to you. Charles wins and you're forced to finally see Lando, who gets p2, because it would be weird if you didn't go out to congratulate your fiancé. During the chaos he turns to you and you're frozen, staring into his eyes.

He's smiling but there's heartbreak in his eyes. And you want to do whatever it takes to send it as far from as possible.

Someone bumps into him and he catches himself before he stumbles into you, his lips mouthing your name. Despite the noise around you, you can hear his pained sigh and then he's gone, eyes on you until he's swallowed up by the cameras.

The Monaco anthem. Charles beaming as he looks down at you from the podium. Champagne. He's so happy you can't help but smile.

Whenever your eyes stray to Lando next to him your smile dies.

The alcohol isn't doing its job. Lando downs another drink, heart beating to the same rapid beat of the song playing, and he tries to part the crowd with his mind, thoughts jumbled but he knows what he wants to see.

You.

The dancing, drinking bodies part and his desperate eyes finally land on you. Champagne has been flowing steadily since you and Charles walked in. The it couple.

He wish he could vomit, but all he can muster is a grimace, perfectly timed with a kiss between the happy couple. Taking a drink, he leans against the wall, head and heart pounding as he wills the alcohol to do what it's supposed to and numb everything. Instead it's only enhanced every bit of the pain and torture that's been in him since the first unanswered text.

"Mate."

It's Osc. He reaches out, grabbing his teammate's shoulder. "Osc!" He's happy to see him. Osc knows. Osc understands. Good old Oscar. "Sorry for calling you a sponge cat."

"Fuck, how much have you had?" Oscar asks.

"Don't worry 'bout me." He lifts his glass to take a sip, whining when it never reaches his mouth. Watching it, it occurs to him that Oscar took it from him. "Hey…"

"C'mon."

"Can we get me another drink? Some muppet stole mine," he says, leaning against his friend as he's led away.

"Sure, mate," Oscar yells above the music.

"Yay." Slinging an arm around him, Lando barely notices where they're going. He is pretty sure the bar is in the other direction… But Oscar knows best. "You're my best mate, mate, ya know that?"

Oscar patts his back. "Yeah."

"Thanks." Yay, a best mate. "Didn't mean it when I said you was a pain in my fuckin' ass, mate. Said it with love."

Oscar sighs so loudly Lando hears it over the music. "I know."

He blinks and they're outside. The air feels weird in his lungs and he coughs, swaying a little as he tries to catch himself on the back of the building. "Jesus."

"Do you wanna go?" Oscar asks.

He doesn't know. "But she's here." He's still not numb and he realizes there's not enough drinks in the world to deaden the pain. "She's here, Osc."

"I know." There's sympathy in his voice.

"Why'd she do it?" His voice cracks and he tries to breathe, tries to stop the tears but they're already burning his eyes. He pushes the heels of his palms against his face. "She loves me."

"Lando…"

"We n-never said it but we like, couldn't yeah? But I know she does. She told me." It doesn't sound right but he can't care right now, too busy trying to keep the tears from falling. "I love us."

"Us?"

"It's how we say it. Because we can't say it."

Need it. This. Us. Love it. This. Us.

"I love her, Osc." The last word breaks on a sob and he presses his hands tightly to his eyes but there's no stopping the tears. "Wasn't supposed to. Know that. But how can I not love her? Even before we had sex I loved her."

"Oh, mate." It's sad and understanding and there's a gentle hand on his shoulder.

And it all comes pouring out. A bit mixed up but he knows Oscar's smart enough to put it in the right order. How he had a little crush but liked being your friend. The feelings grew but he never dreamed – okay, sometimes he'd dreamed, he wasn't a fucking saint – you felt the same. How he truly never expected for those dreams to become reality or how lifechanging it would be. And while he tells it he lets the tears fall because trying to stop them is pointless.

"She's everything," he gasps, bracing his hands on his knees to keep from spinning with the world around him.

"I know, I know," Oscar says gently.

"I gotta go. Can… Can't watch them be so happy." And he laughs through the tears. "I want her happy but I can't see it."

"C'mon, we'll go."

He blinks, sways, and he's in his hotel room. A bottle of water appears in his hands and he stares at it then slowly lifts his head. "Osc."

"It's alright, drink it." His voice is warbles and Lando shakes his head to make sense of what's happening.

"She's gonna marry him," he whispers.

"Not right now, yeah? Drink your water."

"Why's it hurt so much," he mumbles after sipping the water. "Love's s'posed to be the best thing."

"It can be," Oscar says. "But sometimes it hurts."

"It's why I stayed away from it for so long. Didn't wanna get hurt." He leans his head back, feels the softness of the pillow. "But…"

"But you fell."

"Yeah," he whispers. "Dived right in and was over my head 'fore I knew it was happening. And… This time it hurts. A lot."

Oscar hums and Lando reaches out, slapping his arm.

"Thanks Osc."

"Anytime, Lando."

He's silent, and just when Oscar is moving to turn off the lights he speaks again. "You think they'll get married in Monaco?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"She wants a beach wedding. There's a spot near her parents'… Like a look over place?" Still clutching the empty water bottle, he gestures with his hand. "Showed me pictures once. Pretty place."

"Yeah?" Oscar turns off the lights and returns to the chair by the bed.

"Sunset. She wants it at sunset. With her niece as flower girl. Doesn't want anything big or fancy. Just people she loves who love her."

"Sounds nice."

"And a honeymoon in Ireland. It's where her nan's from, and she loves it. County Waterford. That's why she loves that crystal thing I got her for her birthday."

"What'd you get her?"

"A vase. Cuz she loves the crystal. And flowers."

Your coworkers are over the moon. A wedding! So exciting! Ah, young love! Have you picked out a date? Color scheme? Where will it be?

No, but you're thinking next spring. Blush pink and sage green. You're looking at different places.

Yes, you're so excited. Still hasn't set in that you're engaged. Oh of course you've never been happier. You're so in love.

You hate yourself for having become an expert in lying. The venue has already been reserved. Charles flew your mom out, and your dress is being made . It's easy to just let everyone else do the planning for you, because it's not your dream wedding.

Not that you've spoken to him. You haven't seen him since the club the night after your engagement. And then, only for a split second. You've opted to stay at home, lying to Charles and saying you were doing wedding planning.

No one needs to know that you spend race weekends in front of your laptop, hugging your knees and watching every scrap of footage you can of Lando. Just to check on him. Because you still can't bring yourself to return his calls and texts. They don't come as often now, and he no longer leaves you voicemails, but you haven't been able to tap his name on your phone.

And you're too much of a fucking coward to show up at a race and see him in person.

He looks okay. A little tired, and maybe you're the only one that notices his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Maybe not. Maybe others can tell that he's a little more subdued in post-race interviews. Or maybe not.

"And are you looking forward to the break?" the interviewer asks.

He smiles. "Yeah… Hoping to spend some time alone. Get out of my head for a bit, yeah?"

"Anywhere special?"

"Nah, just away from everything. A quiet beach or something." He shrugs in that slightly self-conscious way that always makes you want to hold him.

He walks off and you drain the last of your wine, closing the laptop and dragging a hand over your face. You have to finish packing for the trip back home. Snatching out your earbuds, you reach for your phone. Open your messages.

Stare at Lando's name and open the thread. It'll be tomorrow before Charles gets home, you can spend the night crying over texts.

-Were you gonna tell me? -he's cheated on you since day one why would you marry him -does he make you happy? -if he makes you happy I'll be happy for you -tell me he makes you happy -please y/n -talk to me

Those were from six weeks ago. For four weeks it was more of the same. Until…

-I miss you -miss your smile. and your laugh. and that cute little snort that you hate but I think it's beautiful. -miss your hugs. they always make me feel like I'm safe -I just miss you -I miss you dancing in my living room and pretending not to notice when I steal cupcakes. -I even miss your fucking sushi.

Your eyes well with tears. You miss him, too. You miss his hyena laugh and how he'd forget the simplest of words when explaining something. You miss his hugs, how you always felt like nothing could affect you as long as you were in his arms. You miss the dancing, spinning and bouncing until you were breathless and dizzy. You even miss his fucking chicken nuggets.

-Will you come to Spa? -Just wanna see you again. -Guess you're not coming. -Hope you're doing ok. He told Osc you're going back home for break. I know you're excited. Cali girl. -I wish I knew I could see you over break. -Call me when you can -there's so much I never got to say -that I cant put in a text -I miss us

You stare at that last text, sent five minutes before the start of the race, and you let out a sob. And before you can stop yourself you're composing a text. You delete the words and start over several times, finally closing your messages with a frustrated groan. Your finger hovers over the call button, and you punch it, taking a deep breath before you tap Lando's name on the favorites list, where it's been since he called you his bestie.

It rings once. And you realize he's probably busy, probably in another interview or—

"Hello?" He sounds panicked. Out of breath. Like he can't believe it's you.

"Lando," you whisper.

"God – fuck, hang on—" There's rustling and you can hear others speaking in the background. "Yeah, I know, it's an emergency," he says in a rush to someone and you muffle a sob, because now you're crying you can't stop. You hear him saying something about having to take this, he's sorry. "You still there?"

"Y-yeah."

"I'm – hang on, I gotta get somewhere quiet."

You can imagine him sprinting away from the crowd, avoiding eye contact so no one tries to talk to him. Putting it on speaker, you set the phone down and hug your knees to your chest while you listen to the rustling and heavy breaths. Next to you Leo whines softly, leaning against you and you reach to absently pet him.

"Y/n."

"I'm here," you sniffle.

"Are you—"

"I'm sorry."

He's panting, and you hear his shaky breath. "Are you ok?"

No. "Y-yeah."

"Why?" he whispers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was all so sudden, Lando." A flimsy excuse. You could have easily texted him that night.

"I had to find out from fucking Instagram. Half the world knew before I did." There's a thud, and you wonder if he's punched the wall or slammed his head against it.

"I'm sorry," you say again because it's all you can say. "I was in shock, I guess. He posted the picture before I even called my mom."

"Are you happy?" he asks after a moment, just as you're beginning to think he's not going to say anything else.

You don't answer right away. "I—"

"I love you. Never thought I could love like I love you. Thought I loved but it was just…bullshit before you. It was fucked up and you were never mine, but I needed you. I've never not needed you. I still can't fold a fucking shirt proper. Y-you were everything and I know I was stupid to think we could make it, but I never wanted anything more than us." He's rambling, breathless, and you can hear the pain and desperation in his voice.

You press your face to your knees, shoulders shaking. "Lan—"

"But it's not gonna happen is it?" he asks and his voice breaks, shattering your heart. "You're gonna marry him. And I'm… I'm gonna have to smile and be happy for you even though I'm nothing."

"You're my friend," you sob.

"Friend." It sounds like the vilest curse word. "Friend? Tell me one friend who knows how your pussy tastes."

"Lando, please." You know you deserve it, but it hurts.

"I let you into my soul," he murmurs. "I'm supposed to just be your friend again?"

You can't answer him, because you know you can't ask that of him.

"I can't, y/n." There's a tremor in his voice and the shattered pieces of your heart crack. "I can't go back. I… I can't pretend we never happened and go back to just game talk and dancing and baking. I… I only want you to be happy, but I can't do that."

"I know," you whimper.

"You were everything," he whispers. "You still are."

"I loved us," you say softly.

"I needed us. But us…was always doomed wasn't it?"

"I suppose so." Sniffling, you lift your head, shakily tapping to ignore Charles's incoming call.

"Are you happy?"

Despite everything, you can't lie to him. You can lie to Charles. Your mom. Even your grandmother, whose said time and time again she doesn't like Charles. But you'll never be able to lie to Lando. "No."

There's silence, then he lets out a pained sound. "Don't marry him, y/n."

Charles doesn't notice your mood when he gets home. He's riding high off another win, talking excitedly about planned improvements for next year and how he's actually got the chance to be champion this year. He's so goddamned happy you can't help but smile a little, knowing all too well how downtrodden he's been over his career in the past. There's relaxation to be had now, though, and his first day of break is spent on his yacht, sunning and swimming and he's still so happy.

The next day you fly home, and despite the jet lag you're bouncing because it's so good to be back home. Charles has been here twice now but still you point out landmarks from your childhood and you can tell he's faking his enthusiasm. He loves America, he's always said because it created you, but you know he doesn't like it. He can take it in small doses. You push away the worry that by the end of your trip he'll be tense and irritable.

There are days at the beach, three nights up in the mountains, the weekend in Vegas. With each day that passes you tell yourself you can do this. You still hurt. You still miss Lando, who hasn't texted or called since the night of Spa. But it gets a little easier, and as you sit in your hotel room watching the sunrise over the Strip you realize you almost feel happy.

Charles's phone dings and you step away from the window to switch it to silent. He groans in his sleep and you smile, watching him push his face deeper into the pillow. Glancing at the phone screen, you shrug.

You don't recognize the name. You can't remember ever meeting a Cassidy or Charles mentioning her. Pushing away the doubt, you switch the phone to silent, about to set it on the nightstand when it buzzes with another message from her.

It might be someone from Ferrari. You chew on your lip, finally unlocking the phone and opening the message thread.

-miss u 💞

You barely see the text, your eyes instead on the nude photo that was sent just before. You don't know her. Scrolling up, you exhale harshly as your eyes scan the back-and-forth messages, ranging from a simple miss u to it's not fair chérie, I wish we could run away together. Interspersed are photos of her and him, and you grip the phone tighter, remembering his insistence that neither of you send nudes.

Yet he's apparently had no problem sending Cassidy pictures of his dick. Or receiving pictures of her. There are even videos and you can't stop yourself from dropping onto the couch, scrolling further up, needing to know how long it had been going on.

-marrying her won't change a thing, chérie

By the time he wakes you've gotten to the start of their messages. All the way back in November. It had been mostly innocent at first, but you'd been revolted to see photos of him in your mom's house, in your old bedroom, at Christmas, when he hadn't so much as wanted to kiss you with tongue because it was rude.

"Bonjour, chérie," he greets you as he stretches.

You say nothing, twisting the heavy, gaudy ring around your finger. His phone lies in your lap and you know he's looking for it when he looks to the nightstand.

"We go to the Big Bear today, yes?"

You stay silent, swallowing hard. You know you have no right to be angry – after all, hadn't you done the same with Lando? But you are. Because you and Lando had evolved from friends to lovers, and it hadn't lasted eight months. And you'd cut everything off with him the moment the ring had been placed on your finger.

"Chérie?" He looks confused. "What is wrong?"

"Oh, you were talking to me?" you ask.

He blinks, rubbing his face. "Yes? Who else would I be talking to? We're alone."

"Right." You draw in a deep breath and pick up his phone, tossing it towards him. "I thought maybe you were talking to Cassidy."

Despite his quick reflexes he fumbles, the phone landing on the floor with a thud. You can see the blood drain from his face. "Chérie—"

"Don't call me that," you gasp. "Not when you called her that. Last night, remember?"

"She doesn't mean anything to me," he says, snatching his phone off the floor. "It is just a fling."

"A fling doesn't last eight months, Charles." You stand up, tucking your robe tightly around yourself. "A fling isn't a chérie."

"Ché – y/n—"

"You sent her a video of you masturbating from my grandma's bathroom!" you screech, jerking away when he reaches for you. "What next? Gonna invite her to the wedding? I'm sure the priest won't mind you bending her – what was it? – perfect ass over and fucking her until she can't remember her own name. God, you're disgusting."

"I have a problem," he says, and you can hear the edge in his voice. It's just like the last time, when he—

"How many girls are you fucking?" you gasp.

"I'm not…" He hangs his head, muttering under his breath. "They don't mean anything."

"That doesn't make it better," you groan. Snatching clothes from the open suitcase on the floor, you hurriedly put them on. "You said last time that it was a mistake. That it would never happen again."

Charles raises his head. "I lied."

You blink at him. "Oh my god."

"No, chérie, don't leave."

"I believed you. I fell for ever fucking lie." You shake your head in disbelief, grabbing up your phone and purse.

"Please, please, let me explain." He takes a step towards you, stopping when you shoot him a glare.

"No." You squeeze your eyes shut.

Don't marry him, y/n.

"I can't believe I trusted you. I gave up everything for you. Because I thought you were true. I thought that the last time was the only time. I thought… I thought you loved me," you whisper, twisting the ring again.

"I do. More than anything."

"But you can't. You can't love me more than anything and tell Cassidy that marrying me won't change anything. You can't stand here and say you love me while some woman I don't know has pictures of your dick."

"Please, I can… I can change—"

You let out a harsh laugh. "Do you know what I gave up for you? I left a job I loved to work in fucking Monaco because you needed me with you. I had to let friendships I've had since high school fade because I'm so far away I can't keep in touch all the time. I—" You choke on a sob.

I've never not needed you.

"I gave up someone that truly loved me, that made me happier than I deserved. Because I wanted us to make it," you whisper. You see the confusion on his face.

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. H-he won't have anything to do with me now, because I chose you." Tears blur your vision and you wrench the ring from your finger. You want to throw it in his face, tell him it was Lando, let out your anger by telling him what you'd done. But you can't do that to Lando. With care you set the ring on the dresser.

"Chérie… Please, not like this," he says.

It hits you that he's probably not upset over you leaving. He's upset because he always does the leaving. "I'll go to the apartment and get my stuff while you're at Zandvoort," you say. "I'll leave my keys."

"Where will you go?"

"Don't pretend to care now."

"I wanted us to make it too," he says softly. And you almost believe him.

"Apparently not enough," you murmur.

His phone vibrates again and he huffs. "Yeah hang on, getting texts," he says, pushing his headset back and reaching for the phone.

Even though he deleted the contact he recognizes the number. Opening the message, he glances at the screen, watching Max cycle through the available cars. Swallowing his worry, he looks at the phone.

-I'm leaving Monaco. -I ended the engagement and broke up with him. -I just wanted to let you know. I don't expect anything. -I still miss us. -Good luck, Lando. Take care.

He reads them over again, ignoring Max and the game. His chest aches and he lets out his breath in a rush. About to reply, he pauses, seeing a text from Oscar.

­-Still coming to Melbourne for a few days?

He smiles, quickly tapping out a reply.

-Flight leaves tonight 2am my time. Can't wait.

Going back, he stares at the number. Then, pushing down the familiar ache, he swipes to delete it, watching it disappear. There's a sense of finality to it and he tosses his phone down and rubs his hands over his face. He pulls his headset back into place.

"You good?" Max asks.

"Yeah, just junk." He stretches his arms above his head then drums his hands on the desk. "Right, let's fucking do this."

[gojoidyll]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 13 | sukuna and a crush

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Warnings | none

Infinity Masterlist

RYOMEN SUKUNA held her fiercely. His four arms never seemed to let her go. Anywhere he went, he made sure to have her follow. Be it behind him, beside him, or sitting atop his shoulders, or held in his arms.

He was always so cautious even when he was strongest back then.

"Where are you going?"

It was one of his lives where he had her all to himself.

"Nowhere..."

He knew when she was lying, when she was sad, happy, mad. It didn't matter how she hid her emotions. He could tell. He had many of her lives to practice after all.

"Is that so?"

She nodded, but she didn't look up to meet his gaze.

"Maybe i should force it out of you then."

Her eyes widened at that, which was when she decided to turn and run. Poor choice.

"Running away," he caught her easily, "you know you can't get away."

She pushed at his hands, his many many hands, "let go! I have to go somewhere!"

"Where? Why?"

She shook her head, refusing to answer.

"You leave me no choice, brat."

She grabbed one of his wrists, "Please! Anything but tickling! Anything but that!"

"Foolish woman, you resigned to your fate!"

"No! Hahaha! Stop! Stop it! If you tickle me I'm going to pee! Sukunaaaa!"

It wasn't everyday that other curses or servants witness THE King of Curses get into a tickle fight with his wife, and when it does happen? All one can do is look away and never speak of it. Because Sukuna may be soft with her, but with anyone else? It will mean death.

"Al- alright, alright! I'll tell you, just hah no more!"

Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes as she struggled within his grip. Her body withering as he finally stopped his assault.

He looked at her expectantly, but was obviously prepared to tickle her again if need be.

"That new cursed blade...the- hah- the blacksmith who made it was traveling to the town closest to hear today and tomorrow and I wanted him to make that blade for you."

She was still trying to catch her breath as her lungs finally got the air they needed and she no longer felt that ticklish feeling.

"Foolish woman..., we can just go together."

She pouted at him, arms crossed and everything, "it was supposed to be a surprise."

He rolled both sets of his eyes, spoiled, taken care of, doted on. Y/n was a handful even as his wife. But at least she was here. Alive.

"You'll get over it. Where I go, you go. Where you go, I go. That's the promise we made, and I expect you to keep, brat."

She huffed, "fine... but I still plan to wrap it for you and give it to you as present! And you better act surprised when you receive it!"

"Whatever."

"Hey!"

"Ughhh, what the? A dream?"

Itadori Yuji woke unceremoniously in the dead of night, the dream unfinished and his heart aching uncontrollably.

"Am I sick or something?"

Despite his inner turmoil and the questions that popped up into his mind, Sukuna didn't say anything. The last thing the King of Curses was going to do was explain to the brat was that he was dreaming of Sukuna's past.

Itadori decided to ignore the uneasy feeling in the end, and tried his best to go back to sleep, but he did admit that it was hard to.

I mean, he did dream of you, after all, which felt wrong to him.

[...]

"You're up late."

She felt someone gently flick her forehead, causing her to look up from her paperwork.

"Oh! Gojo! Yeah, I am. I just wanted to get some assignments ready for tomorrow- er," she glanced at the clock her desk, "I mean today," she said while amending her sentence. Her clock read 2:01 a.m. she honestly didn't realize how late she stayed.

"Why don't I take you home?"

She shook her head as she stood up from her desk and neatly stacked the papers before gathering up her belongings, "don't worry, Gojo! You don't have to."

"But I want to."

He gave her the best smile he could muster. Disarming, trustworthy, lighthearted. He didn't want to scare her away, but he also didn't want her to go away too soon. If she was going home, then he obviously wanted to go to.

"Well,... I guess a walking partner wouldn't be so bad," she relented, and he grinned.

"Who said anything about walking?"

"Wha-"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, "ever tried teleporting before?"

A rhetorical question. Of course she hasn't.

"G- gojo, I heard you could teleport, but I don't think I want to-"

He held her close, gently, "don't you trust me?"

She gave him a look, her mind working fast, "well, yes, but-"

"No buts! You said yes, and that's all I need."

He held her hand with his free one, "tell me where you live and you'll be there in flash."

She couldn't help her nerves, they were going haywire. Though, deep down, she did have to admit that she was curious to see how teleportation worked. She heard the rumors that Gojo could do it, so... maybe she should just give it a try? Once surely won't hurt.

So she gave him her address.

He grinned down at her when she relented, "then hold on tight."

She did as she was told and clung to the front of his uniform, her fingers twisted into the fabric as she screwed her eyes shut. Despite wanting to try, she still couldn't deny the fear that ebbed away at her.

There's a first for everything after all.

"And, we're here."

He was so close. His breath tickled her ear, it made her face feel hot all of a sudden as she let go of him and back away a bit. Though, her legs still felt a little wobbly, but luckily as she fell back, she landed on her couch which cushioned her fall.

"Oh wow."

The feeling was indescribable. It definitely felt weird from shifting from one place and then being in another so quickly.

"Pretty cool, right?"

"Mmm."

She still couldn't form many words even as she sat there.

"Hey, you good?"

She finally focused on Gojo then as he crouched in front of her, his blindfold was off and his bright, blue eyes were filled with concern that she hadn't felt in a long time.

"I'm good... just next time... let's just walk together, ok?"

He smiled then and patted her knee, the sensation sending a jolt through her entire leg, "deal!"

He was excited for when next time would come by.

She cleared her throat then as she went to stand up, Gojo immediately helping her as he took her hands and pulled her. Her bag falling to the couch cushions.

"An- anyway, even though it's late, do you want anything? Something to drink or eat?"

He let go of her hands and stuffed them into his pockets, "nah, I'm good. Just wanted to get you home and safe was all."

She couldn’t deny how her face felt hot all of sudden and she wondered if he did this with all his female coworkers, "well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Always."

And even as she bid him goodnight and showed him to her front door of her apartment, she found that she wanted him to stay and talk a little longer.

But she wasn't stupid. He was good-looking, nice, a total catch. She knew he would never see her like that and that he probably has a totally hot and rich girlfriend warming his bed right now.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle, "I have no chance with him. Best to toss this little crush of mine out the window," her sheepish laugh echoed a little in her empty hallway when she shut and locked the door.

The exhaustion from the days events finally hitting her as she made her way to her room so she could finally crash in her bed.

"Though, crushing on him a little won't hurt, right?"

Infinity taglist, please note that for some it says "no blogs found" so I wasn't able to tag you.

@whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld @bubera974 @littleplantofdeath @fangirl-332 @thaliadoesthings @hellsingalucard18 @tamaki-simp @obsessedwithfanfiction @babygivertyrant @carvelcakes @itzmeme @nervouschocolatecat @aspiring-bookworm @babyorphanstastegood @lilacskyly @ilovethegold @mythicalsongbird

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Broken headsets

- Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst, slight violence?

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

(This is just a trail story, I lost my first story that was actually good ☠️I’m probably going to delete this)

**

“Channie?” I call for him. My hands gently rubbing his back while playing with his hair. So soft and messy.

“Mhm” he replies softly. The sound of his fingers typing against the keyboard as his headsets sat around his neck. His brown curls fluffy and everywhere.

His silver hoops sitting perfectly on both his ears and his black shirt tight around his muscle making him look delicious.

“Baby you need to eat something. You’ve been on that computer ever since you got home.” I plead with him.

He needed to eat, he hadn’t eaten all day due to the busy schedule and lack of time on his plate. The mangers were on him 24/7 due to their comeback in a few weeks.

Comeback season meant no time for anything, no time for dates, no time for sitting around, no time for spending time with one another and I hated it. I hate it so much. It made me angry.

“Baby this is really important, I’ll be there in a second.” He quickly says not even bothering to look up.

“Chan you’ve been at it for the past 2 hours, you haven’t even looked at me.” I complain. Yes I wanted attention, shoot me!

“I’ll give you all the attention you want my love, just please let me finish this.”

Sadness fills my heart as I silently put the clothes inside the closet.

A ringing sound in my ear and a tight feeling in my throat.

I was trying not to cry. I refused to cry.

Chan was a workaholic, no doubt in that. His days consisted of waking up early in the morning to head to the JYP building and coming home very late only to do more work. Some nights he wouldn’t come home at all and he knew I didn’t like it so to make my happy, he sometimes would bring me with him to the studio but that was when he thought he wouldn’t be coming home.

Our conversations in the studio normally contained:

“Just 30 more minutes my love”

Or

“I’m almost done”

Or

“I promise this is the last thing.”

He loves his job and he puts 110% in it but that makes him lack in other areas. His health.

Some nights he doesn’t sleep, some days he forgets meals and other days his mental health is the worst but still he doesn’t care because he loves his Job. He loves the boys. He loves Stay.

“Fine.” I sigh. One minute meant 1 hours at this point. I quietly leave the room closing the door behind me. Leaving him in his little world.

The cold tiles sending a shiver up my spine as I walked down the corridor.

“What am I going to do with you Channie?” I whisper to myself while packing up the food.

The dishes in the sink waiting for me to touch them while the laundry basket sat in the living room waiting for me to fold the messy clothes in them.

The house was quiet. The A.C hitting my skin with cold air as I sit on the floor and start folding the clothes one by one.

Berry by my side watching me.

Our apartment wasn’t big but it was huge for two people.

Some days it was a real big hustle to keep everything clean especially when they boys stay over but other days it wasn’t hard to maintain with the help of Chan.

“What am I going to do with your dad Berry?” I sigh again looking at the dog who seemed to be care free.

I grabbed the last set of clothes and walked over to the room. Chan’s back facing me. Not even noticing me in the room.

“Baby..” I call for him as I set down the clothes and start to load them into the closet.

“What Y/n?” He says a little harsh. I roll my eyes, frustration starting to build in my chest but I decide to be the bigger person and ignore his little attitude.

“Baby do you know what we’ll be doing for our 2 year anniversary?” I asked him trying to atleast have a conversation with him.

“I don’t know Y/n. You deal with it I don’t have time. Just tell me how much it is and when it is.”

“When it is?” I ask him obviously taken back.

“Ugh I didn’t mean when it is, I mean when you wanna do it.” He quickly corrects himself and rubs his temples with his fingers.

“Atleast act like you care Chan.” I tell him honestly.

“I’m not starting an argument with you right now so please can I get back to my work?”

“Chan why are you being like this?” Ignoring his request I decide to push because honestly I was tired of it.

“I’m not acting like anything I just want to finish my work in peace.”

“Chan you’re acting so selfish right now!” I say now slightly raising my voice.

“Y/n” he says firm and glaring over at me. What’s the worse he could possibly do?

“Just listen-“ I beg before I’m cut off.

“Y/n i said leave me alone!” His voice booms and the sound of breaking glass fills the room. My body freezes. Hands shaking.

The now broken headsets and mirror laying on the ground.

“Did you just throw that at me?” I ask him in disbelief.

“Babe-“ his body was stood up now and he was reaching out for me. His face filled with panic and guilt.

“Don’t.” I say getting away from his touch. The clothes that were once folded no scattered on the ground. Words refusing to come out of my mouth until I force myself to get up from the floor.

“I-I’m going to leave…” I say softly. My heart hurt and I hope he knew that. I felt the tears that were all built up from frustration, anger and hurt all start to flow down my cheeks.

When would he realize that being with him was starting to slowly ruin me?

**

Pt 2 ⬇️

[mactavishwritings]

HEEEEEEY, HYWD?????

Please, i literally will beg for a Hard dom! König and a Gentle dom! Ghost, and Reader was a big brat on a mission

LOVE YOUUUU

haha love you too <3 i did say i was going to write more 1) more poly stuff and 2) a König smut so thank you <3

NSFW 18+ ONLY PLEASE

The silence in the air was so thick, it made you squirm in your seat. König and Ghost were sitting up front, Ghost driving the vehicle while König was in the passenger seat. The two hadn't said a word to you since the evac point. Maybe you took it to far, pushing your boyfriend's buttons a little too hard while on the mission, but you couldn't help it. Something in you always would force you to act out when they would give you instructions.

On this mission, you had deliberately went against König's order, him telling you to watch his back as he entered a room, but you had just gone in yourself and was able to get the data you were looking for. Ghost watched the two of you from his vantage point, through his scope. König had grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the room, practically fuming. You could see the smoke coming off him as the two of you ran towards the evac point where you would meet up with Ghost. When you saw Ghost, he was leaning against the car, arms crossed over his chest. You sheepishly walked up to him and König reached out to grab the back of your neck. "Maus... Do not look to him for forgiveness. He will not give it to you." König practically growled in your ear as Ghost just shook his head.

You three finally made it back to the base and you were quick to jump out of the car. "(Y/N). Do not even think about it. If you run, you know that it will be far worse for you." Ghost said, looking at you through the open window. You knew that he was telling the truth, but once again, something told you to run and you would be able to avoid the harsh punishment that you knew was coming. So, you took off running.

König and Ghost looked at each other before Ghost recognized the look in König's eye. "Be gentle with her. She's still recovering from your last game." Ghost asked König, but it was too late. "I am going to hunt her down and she will learn." He stepped out of the car and calmly walked in your general direction. Ghost followed behind him, matching the man's steps. "Little Maus...where are you?" König called out and you heard him in the distance.

You thought that hiding in their room would prevent you from being caught, thinking that would be the last place they would look, but it was almost like the boys knew you too well. König sauntered into the room and you tried to stay quiet, holding your hand over your mouth. König's head turned toward where you had been hiding and pounced. You screamed as the man pinned you to the wall. "What did we tell you about running? Hm? You are truly in for quite the punishment."

König forced you onto the bed, on your stomach, when Ghost walked into the room, no mask on. "I tried to warn her, but the poor brat never listens. Don't you?" Ghost crouched down to be on your eye level as König held both your arms in one hand. Your eyes filled with tears as you felt König grab a fistful of hair and made you look up at Ghost. "You better answer him, brat. Now!" You cried out and shook your head. "I didn't! I should've listened!" Ghost leaned and kissed your head. "And what do you say?" He petted your hair and you tried to push yourself into the comfort, but König pushed your head down into the mattress. "I'm sorry for not listening and running." Your muffled voice rang out.

"There you go, bunny. Now, you've made it up to me. Now you gotta make it up to him." Ghost smiled wickedly before nodding to König. "You're mine now, Schatz." König pulled you up onto your knees and you cried out. "But!! I said I was sorry!!" You looked desperately at Ghost, who had sat on the couch across from the two of you and just watched the two of you, who just shook his head. "Not enough, you still must learn your lesson. This is a punishment after all. König, continue." König was practically vibing when he pushed your pants down to your knees, exposing your ass that was still healing from the punishment you received before the mission. You knew what was coming next, bracing for the hard impact that König delivered. His strikes were rough and quick, enough to make you try to pull away, shaking and writhing.

You knew that all it took to end this was one word, but you didn't want this to end. As much as you never wanted to say it, the brattiness you displayed was exactly for this reaction. With every smack, you grew wetter and wetter. You knew that they most likely not let you finish tonight, an extension of the punishment, but you didn't care. This was almost enough to get you off completely. König did not stop until your ass was black and blue. You pushed your hips back against König's soothing touch as he rubbed his hand over the rising hand marks he created, the welts serving as a reminder to you for this punishment. "You think that I'm going to give you what you want?" König pushed your hips away, "You think you deserve to cum?" You grabbed at König's hands as they gripped your arms. "Sir, please! I promise I've learned my lesson!" You wiggled your hips to entice the man, but he just delivered three more swats to your ass. "I knew you were stupid, but c'mon Liebling..." König laughed meanly as Ghost leaned forward. "Bunny, you and I both know that you did not and you will continue to do this in the future. You will not cum tonight or tomorrow. You will not get either of us until we feel you actually have, understand?"

You nodded at Ghost as König pulled you up to standing and harshly pulled your pants up, buckling them for you. "You know that even though we punish you, we still love you. Right, Liebling?" König kissed you gently as you nodded. "I know, you tell me this every time." You giggled as Ghost snuck up behind you so that you were sandwiched between the two tall men. "Good, now you will sleep in here tonight so we can watch over you." Ghost looked over your head as König nodded. "Let's get you washed up and take care of that sore ass of yours." You smiled and snuggled between their arms, knowing full well that tomorrow you will act out again, just for this to happen again.

[hard-core-super-star]

bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate bishop x reader

summary: a failed mugging leads to you discovering kate's biggest secret...and her finding out yours.

warnings: yes, i still suck at summaries, shhh SMUT -> minors, you know the drill, walk away now [porn with almost too much plot; blood and fangs and all the stereotypically hot vampire things; so many neck kisses it should be illegal; fingering {R receiving}; kate being a tease and owning it; praise + degradation + two seconds of humiliation]

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: do i have like ten requests sitting in my inbox rn? yes. was this idea going to leave me alone if i didn't write it? no. i've been trying to finish this fic since JULY, GUYS, AND I NEED IT OUT OF MY DRAFTS AND INTO THE WORLD! it wasn't supposed to be smut, but i couldn't help it. i don't think i'll have time to do any real kinktober-type fics so enjoy this little treat instead. ALSO, a lot of the vampire dynamics/lore in this fic was inspired by first kill so go check it out if you haven't seen it.

part two | part three | part four

* * * * * * *

You were working yet another late night at Bishop Security. A normal occurrence considering your boss’s distaste for coming into the office when the sun is high in the sky. She almost never comes in before 3 PM and almost always stays in until way past midnight.

Pretty much everyone who works for her hates her unusual schedule, claiming she’s way too new to her position to be slacking off so much. Everyone seems to share that view…everyone except you since being her secretary means you get to share her schedule.

Which conveniently means you get to sleep in most days.

She’s never offered an explanation, not that you’ve ever tried asking her about it, but the rumor swirling around is that she’s too busy partying and sleeping around to bother showing up at the office at a regular time.

You don’t doubt the validity of that rumor but you’re also sure it’s not the whole story. There have been times when Kate has forced you to leave at 2 AM while she’s stayed behind to write up a report or prepare for her next meeting.

She’s young and reckless and way too rich for her own good but she’s not completely irresponsible or arrogant. Unfortunately, the media loves making up stories about the ‘Tony Stark of Bishop Security’ almost as much as your co-workers love gossiping.

Maybe if those rumors held more truth to them you wouldn’t be where you are right now: speed-walking out of the building and trying to make it to your car before something bad happens. You’re aware of the irony of working at a security company yet being terrified of walking through the parking lot. But hey! It’s New York City, your fears are more than valid.

You’re too busy arguing with yourself about said irony to notice the person sneaking up behind you until they forcefully grab your shoulder and slam you into the nearest concrete wall. The force of the push forces all the air out of your lungs, leaving you unprepared for the right hook your attacker throws your way.

The ringing in your ears is the only thing you can focus on for a few seconds. You see their mouth moving and you’re barely able to make out the name ‘Kate Bishop’ before they raise their fist again. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the punch to land.

Except it never does.

Your eyes snap open right as your shoulders are grabbed again but this time, the person standing in front of you is none other than Kate Bishop herself. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You’re pretty sure the pounding in your chest has more to do with the proximity between the two of you than your leftover fear after being attacked. “I just got pushed around a little.”

“More like punched around,” she says with a small chuckle.

“That’s not funny.” Despite your words, a noticeable smile spreads along your face.

Kate’s eyes trail down your face and hone in on your lips. The sudden attention makes you subconsciously lick your lips and a slightly metallic taste fills your mouth. You assume the look on her face is due to her concern over you until you notice the way her pupils dilate as blood gathers on your bottom lip.

“Um…Kate? Are you okay?”

Your voice seems to bring her back to the present moment. She leans back a little before she speaks again. “Yeah, we should probably get out of here.”

You hear her words but your gaze is glued right to her mouth and the two protruding teeth you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen before. For a second, you think you’re imagining things but it’s practically impossible to deny what you’re seeing with the way the light bounces off of her teeth.

You had always thought Kate was hiding something. Something that ran deeper than her long list of ex-lovers or weird schedules. But the place your mind is going to right now seems far too illogical. Superheroes, aliens, even the damn multiverse, everything else seemed much more plausible than vampires.

And yet, the proof is staring right at you with caring blue eyes and a nervous smile that tells you you’re both thinking about the same thing.

“I can explain,” she assures you before extending her hand out for you to take. “But you’re gonna have to come with me.”

“You’re insane.”

She shrugs, not at all phased by your comment. “Maybe a little…I promise I won’t bite.”

You don’t know whether to laugh at her joke or slap that look off her face for having the audacity to make it in the first place. Ultimately, your trust in her wins out and you reach for her hand. It’s just one small choice but you have a feeling it’s going to change everything between the two of you.

She starts to lead you toward her car, ignoring your protests like a real gentleman. You weren’t going to act like you had never imagined Kate taking you back to her apartment but you had imagined it under different, significantly sexier, circumstances.

You get into her car and ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. You tell yourself it’s only due to the leftover adrenaline from being attacked but you know it has more to do with the overwhelming smell of the archer than anything else.

A few minutes of silence pass before you work up the courage to start a conversation…even though you know you’re not going to like any of the answers you’re searching for. “What do you think that guy wanted?”

“What guy?” Kate’s eyes remain glued to the road ahead, not giving you a chance to decipher the look on her face. “The one who tried to mug you?”

“He wasn’t trying to mug me, he was looking for you.”

You notice the way her jaw clenches even with the darkness that envelops the car. “Looking for me? What are you talking about?”

“Kate, don’t play stupid with me. You can’t possibly think he broke into a highly secured parking lot just to mug the first random secretary he saw.” Her silence is enough of an answer. “So, who is he and what does he want with you?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’ll only put you in more danger.”

“More danger than that?”

“Yes.” You’re sure you’ve never heard her sound so serious before. “Believe it or not, you finding out about this wasn’t in my plans.”

You’re going to regret asking but your mind has been whirling with thoughts and ideas since you first caught sight of those fangs. “What exactly is…’this’?”

“Exactly what you think it is.”

Her tone leaves no room for questions or arguments. Despite that, the only thing that fills your mind is questions. And answers you don’t want to think about.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, effectively cutting off your flurry of thoughts.

“Why?”

The hunger on her face when she turns to look at you tells you all you need to know. You should probably be scared considering the power she holds over you right now. Not only is she the one driving, she could probably crush you with her bare hands…or sink her sharp fangs into your neck and drain you dry.

Fear is certainly not what you feel at that thought though.

The corners of her mouth quirk up into the cockiest smirk you’ve ever seen. “You’re into some weird stuff, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“What else are you?” The way you shift in your seat doesn’t go unnoticed by the brunette. “Some kind of mind reader?”

“No need,” she replies. “Your scent gave you away.”

Your face heats up at her words but you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or something else. Thankfully, she pulls up to her apartment complex before you can dig yourself into a deeper hole.

A weirdly comfortable silence surrounds you as you make your way out of the car and into her apartment. You’ve known Kate for a while and you’ve always felt safe around her, something that not even those sharp fangs can take away. Especially when she places a strong hand on the small of your back while she leads the way.

For someone who’s richer than most people will ever be in their whole life, her apartment isn’t extremely lavish or full of ridiculous decorations. It could even be considered minimalistic if it weren’t for the numerous bows scattered all over the living room, the chewed-up boots near Lucky’s dog bed, and the overwhelming amount of clothes piled up on the couch.

“Sorry, I don’t usually have people over,” she says almost as if reading your mind. “I’m not usually so messy.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie, Katherine.”

She makes a disgusted face at the sound of her full name, her expression somewhere between adorable and amusing. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”

You’re about to make another stupid comment when your brain short circuits at the sight of Kate unbuttoning her shirt, the black tank top she always wears underneath straining against her torso and all the muscles you know are hiding out of sight.

The corners of her mouth quirk up just enough to give away the fact that she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s one-hundred percent doing it on purpose. You’re just grateful she doesn’t verbalize how obvious your breathlessness is.

You attempt to look away from her but she moves her arm just enough for you to notice the dark stain on her shirt. It takes you a second to figure out what it’s from and you mentally curse the brunette for not telling you she had gotten hurt.

“Kate,” you call out once you find your voice again. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” She looks down at her arm, clearly pretending she hadn’t noticed the wound yet, before shrugging her shoulders. “Oh, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? Why didn’t you tell me you got stabbed?”

“It’s just a scratch.”

She tries to wave you off but it’s too late. You’re already gripping her shoulder and pushing her down onto her overpriced leather couch. “You’re an idiot. Sit down.”

She grumbles something about being able to take care of herself but you don’t listen to a word she says. Instead, your hands reach out for the first-aid kit she keeps on her coffee table.

“Take your shirt off.”

“y/n, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask, baby.” Her voice carries that cocky tone that makes you want to punch her and kiss her at the same time.

“Shut up,” you mutter while attempting to look unaffected.

There are too many thoughts swirling around your brain and most of them have to do with Kate doing some very inappropriate things to you, with or without her fangs. The truth is, you can act like you’re only attracted to the danger that could potentially come your way now that you know her secret but she’s always been far too good at scrambling your brain with a few well-placed words.

She finally does what you ask, pushing her shirt off her shoulders and revealing inches of skin you’ve never seen from such close proximity before. You’re able to pass off your clear ogling as concern as you step closer to examine the small knife wound.

It’s only a few inches long but deep enough to have caused her to bleed the entire way here. You wordlessly open up the first-aid kit and start disinfecting the area, doing your best to ignore the soft groans that leave the brunette’s lips.

“Is all of that stuff true?” You ask a few minutes later, the smallest hint of a joke in your tone.

The corners of Kate’s mouth quirk up into a small smirk that tells you she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “What stuff?”

“You know, the stuff about silver and garlic and burning in the sun?”

“Yes to the silver, no to the garlic, and kind of to the sun. I sunburn really easily but I don’t think that’s due to the vampire thing.”

You laugh at her response, the sound nervous yet warm. It’s still too much to wrap your head around but at least she’s not beating around the bush anymore. “How long have you…?”

“All my life,” she replies with an almost inaudible wince as you start to bandage her up. “It’s a long, complicated story but my family and I are descendants of the first vampires to ever exist. We’re legacies.”

“Sounds fancy.”

She chuckles while she shakes her head. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sure there are worse things to be.” 

You finish securing the bandage in place right as the words leave your lips. Now that there’s nothing to distract you, you realize how close together the two of you actually are. You’re standing right between Kate’s open legs, the heat of her body warming you up in ways that leave your legs shaky. 

“y/n, I…I’ve done a lot of things that-”

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t need to know any of that to know I trust you.”

She looks up at you, her usually bright eyes looking soft and vulnerable for the first time in a long time. It’s almost startling how quickly she changes from the cocky and overconfident Kate Bishop everyone knows to this gentle and hesitant version of herself.

A version of her you can't help but love.

Your feelings must be more than obvious by this point but she doesn't push. You've never known her to be slow or patient or particularly sensitive to what other people want and yet she waits.

The seconds feel like hours until her eyes finally drift down to your lips…and the small amount of blood that still coats them.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The few brain cells that aren’t completely focused on the brunette in front of you tell you to move away from her before you cross a line you won’t be able to come back from. A line that is unprofessional and stupid and full of problems and rumors that will probably ruin your life. 

Unfortunately, crossing that line is the only thing that’s been on your mind since the day you started working for her. And the urge to find out what her lips taste like and what her hands feel like on your skin has only gotten stronger since.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotions you don’t want to think about.

You lean in closer, your breath fanning across her lips while you grab her hands and place them on your waist. “Please don’t stop.”

“y/n…” Her voice comes out somewhere between a whine and a groan. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s unclear whether she’s talking about her vampire side or her serial heartbreaker side but you ignore her warning all the same. You’ve wanted her far too long to let something that seems so irrelevant right now stop you.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure her, letting her pull you close until you're finally sitting on her lap. “I only need you right now.”

The weight and warmth of your body on her lap causes her to take in a sharp breath, one that leaves no doubts about what it is she wants to do with you. “Fuck…”

She leans forward, completely ignoring your lips and instead moving her face toward your neck, her nose brushing against your skin and making your heart skip multiple beats. Her grip on your hips tightens and you swear you can feel the smirk that adorns her features right before she attaches herself to your neck.

Your head tilts back to allow her free access while you do your best not to grind against her. You fail miserably the second her fangs start to nip your skin. She doesn’t bite down hard enough to puncture your neck but the feeling has you desperately bucking your hips in search of relief anyway.

 “Kate-” You gasp out, your hands holding onto her arms for support.

She chuckles while one of her hands starts its journey down inside your jeans. “I know, sweetheart. I can smell how much you need me…how desperate you are to feel me inside you. I bet you can’t think about anything else right now.”

You’re not sure when it happened but her hesitation has clearly gone out the window by now. All that remains is the current of need that flows eagerly between your two bodies.

You let out a soft moan as her fingers dip inside your soaked underwear and find the mess she’s turned you into with a few teasing words and restrained kisses. “Please.”

“Such a good girl,” she murmurs. “How can I deny someone as sweet as you?”

Despite her words, she still doesn’t give you what you truly want. Instead, she presses two fingers against your throbbing clit and starts drawing small circles, her movements slow and calculated. Your hips move in response and you suddenly realize what it is she wants from you. 

There’s no time for whines or embarrassment, no time for anything except desire and desperation. 

You grind down on her fingers and let out a string of incoherent noises that leave Kate groaning into your neck. “Just like that, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

You do just as she asks, rolling your hips and relishing the non-stop kisses she lands on your overheated skin. Her teeth keep teasing you and it’s all you can do not to beg her to bite you hard enough to make you dizzy.

She told you earlier she wasn’t a mind reader but you’re about to call bullshit on that considering the way she picks up on all your dirty thoughts without a single word from you.

“I could drain you so easily right now. You’re so desperate you’d just let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me sink my teeth into you so long as I kept fucking you, wouldn’t you?”

Your sounds of ecstasy should be more than an answer but they’re not enough for the brunette. She picks up the pace of her fingers and turns your brain to mush long enough for you to let out the truth.

“Yes! God, yes. Please- Don’t stop.”

“Good girl.”

She plants a few more kisses against your neck before she finally bites you. Hard. Hard enough to make your eyes squeeze shut and your legs tense up. The pain borders on unbearable until she starts sucking.

Your mind spins endlessly as all the different sensations overwhelm you. You’re not sure what to focus on but your body makes the decision for you. 

You gasp, although the sound comes out more like a whine than anything else, and Kate takes the hint. She plunges her fingers inside of you right as you fall over the edge, the tips curled just enough to hit that one spot that has you seeing stars that weirdly resemble the color of her eyes.

You’re shaking and panting and dizzier than ever but it all feels far too good. The pleasure and the pain roll together to give you the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and you suddenly wonder how you lived so long without knowing such ecstasy existed.

Kate detaches herself from your neck right as the ringing in your ears fades. You open your eyes to the sight of her, pupils blown wide and her lips stained red. You subconsciously clench around her fingers and she smiles.

“I was right,” she says, her voice low and far too controlled for your liking. “You taste as delicious as you smell.”

You don’t waste another second attaching your lips to hers and drowning out all her cocky statements.

You end up spending the rest of the night getting to know Kate in ways you’d only ever dreamed about before, completely oblivious to the way word already starts spreading about your intimate encounter outside the walls of her apartment.

[cheynovak]

Sweetheart

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Female character     

Summary: After years apart, Y/N and Jensen, high school sweethearts, unexpectedly reunite. As they reminisce about their past, Jensen expresses regret about their breakup, and the chemistry between them reignites. Despite the weight of Jensen's current relationship with Danneel, they share a tentative kiss that brings back fond memories of their first love.

Warnings: none

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I sat at the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine, absently watching the room filled with chatter and laughter. It had been a long week, and I needed a quiet moment to myself. At least that was the plan. But life had a funny way of messing up those plans.

Because across the room, sitting at a table with a group of familiar faces, was Jensen Ackles. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Jensen.

The memories hit me like a wave—late-night drives, stolen kisses under the stars, the reckless thrill of being young and in love. We were high school sweethearts once upon a time. Back when things were simple, before his acting career took off and our lives spun in completely different directions.

I thought I’d gotten over him. After all, it had been a lifetime. But there he was, laughing with his friends—Jared, Gen, and his wife, Danneel. All smiles, completely unaware that I was sitting there watching from a distance, fighting the urge to bolt out of the bar.

Just as I was about to slip out quietly, he turned, his eyes catching mine. His laughter stilled, replaced by a look of pure shock. Then, something softened in his expression—recognition, nostalgia, maybe even regret. Before I knew it, he was standing up and walking toward me.

“Y/N?”

His voice was the same as I remembered—deep, with that familiar Texas drawl that used to make my heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Jensen.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but seeing him up close after all these years made my chest tighten.

“Wow, it’s really you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been forever.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

He glanced back at his table, where Danneel was eyeing us curiously, and then turned back to me. “Listen, we’ve got some room at our table. You should come join us. Catch up a bit?”

I hesitated. Sitting down with Jensen and his friends wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned spending my evening, but something about the look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“Sure,” I said, offering a small smile.

As we walked over, Danneel’s eyes flickered between us, but she smiled politely when I sat down. Jared gave me a big grin, and Gen waved. They were all friendly, but I could feel the tension in the air.

--

“So, Y/N, how do you know Jensen?” Jared asked, breaking the ice.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at me. “We went to high school together. We eh... Dated for a while, actually.”

There was a brief pause before Jared’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re that Y/N?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I am.” looking at Danneel, who didn't seemed pleased with me being there.

--

Jensen and I were thrown back into the past. We started talking about the memories we had buried for years—the late-night drives, the reckless things we used to do when we were teenagers, and how Jensen once stole his dad’s car just so we could drive around town at 2 a.m.

“You were terrified we’d get caught,” Jensen teased, nudging me with his elbow. “But you still climbed in anyway.”

“I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” I shot back. “Plus, you were always the smooth talker. I figured if we got pulled over, you’d charm your way out of it.”

Jared laughed. “Oh man, I can picture that. Jensen with that cheesy grin, trying to sweet-talk the cops.”

Gen leaned in, smiling. “And you stayed out all night?”

“Not all night,” I said, laughing. “But we drove around for a while, talking about everything and nothing.”

“Yeah, and you made me park by the lake...” Jensen added, his voice softening. My breath caught at that, the intensity of his gaze bringing back memories I thought I’d buried.

There was a time when he knew everything about me and I never miss one of his games, no matter the sport, how he’d always catch my eye from the field or the court and flash that smile, just for me.

Sitting there with Jensen, surrounded by his friends, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being transported back in time. The weight of years between us was starting to slip away with every memory that bubbled up between us.

Jensen leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine as if we were the only two people in the room. “Do you remember when you used to just sit in your room, lost in one of those books, and I’d be trying to get your attention?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the memory as clear as day. “Oh God, you mean when you’d literally cling to my legs like some sort of needy puppy?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad.”

I shot him a teasing look. “Jensen, you would lie on the bed, wrap your arms around my knees, and just hold on while I tried to read. I couldn’t even walk, and all you’d do was look up at me, waiting for me to give in.”

Jared snorted into his drink, clearly amused by the image of a younger Jensen desperately vying for attention.

“I had to fight for your attention,” Jensen said, a twinkle in his eyes. “But honestly? I secretly loved it when you’d ignore me and just keep reading. You always looked so peaceful, completely lost in whatever world you were in.”

My smile softened, a warmth blooming in my chest. Those quiet moments, when it was just the two of us, had been some of my favorites. No words, no pressure—just the comfort of being with each other.

“Then there were the not-so-quiet moments,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Like that time during one of your soccer games, when you got hurt…”

“Oh man,” Jensen groaned, already knowing where I was headed.

Gen leaned forward, clearly invested in the story. “What happened?”

“He got tackled pretty hard during a game,” I said, recalling the scene like it was yesterday. “The ref didn’t call anything, and I lost it. I yelled at him from the bleachers so loudly, everyone turned to look.”

Jensen laughed, shaking his head. “You were fuming. I swear, I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

“I was ready to throw hands with that referee,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt as the memory surged. “No one was going to hurt you on my watch.”

Danneel, who had been quietly sipping her drink, quirked a brow at that, her smile tightening ever so slightly. I ignored the tension radiating from her side of the table, trying to focus on the flood of old memories that were coming back faster than I could process. Maybe it was time to stop this trip down memory lane, but Jensen thought different.

“And then there was that trip to my family’s lake house,” Jensen said suddenly, his voice dipping into a playful tone. His eyes glinted with mischief, and I knew exactly what story he was about to bring up. “Remember how my dad almost caught us?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “How could I forget? You made me jump out of a window, Jensen.”

Jared nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, what?”

Jensen was grinning like an idiot now, clearly relishing in the memory. “After a school year of dating each other, my family invited her along for the summer."

I added: "We were supposed to be in separate rooms, you know—strict family rules. That was my moms only rule."

"But I snuck Y/N into my room late that night. We were just talking, hanging out. Nothing crazy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, just talking—until we heard your dad walking down the hall. You panicked and threw me out of the window.”

Jensen burst out laughing. “You didn’t even hesitate! I told you to jump, and you were out of there in seconds.”

“You gave me no choice! Your dad knocked on the door, and I thought for sure we were caught,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it now. “I ended up hiding under the deck in my pajamas, freezing, while you played it cool upstairs like nothing happened.”

“I’m impressed,” Gen said, grinning. “That’s some serious stealth.”

“I wasn’t feeling too stealthy at the time,” I admitted, still laughing. “But we made it out alive, somehow.”

Jensen shook his head, the smile lingering on his lips. “That weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had, though. We stayed up late, talked about everything—your dreams, my acting, what the future might look like. You made me feel like I could do anything.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at his words. I remembered those nights vividly, especially one night, the night I lost my virginity to Jensen. He made sure it was perfect. And I was pretty sure that night was on his mind right now, while he was smirking looking at his hands on the table.

Besides a romantic he was also full of ambition back then, and I was convinced he’d make it big. I had always believed in him, even when the world seemed like it was asking for too much.

There was a moment where it felt like everything around us had faded, like the rest of the table didn’t exist. Just me and Jensen, sitting in the memories of a time when we were so young and so sure of each other.

But then, just as quickly, the weight of the present came crashing back in.

Danneel shifted beside him, her eyes on me, her smile no longer reaching her eyes. “So, why did it end?” she asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge. “If everything was so perfect back then?”

The question hung in the air, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The reality of it all—the years apart, the heartbreak, the different lives we’d built—crashed down on me.

Jensen was looking at me, his expression unreadable. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t relive that part of the story. The part where we broke up, where his career took him away, where I was left behind to figure out how to move on without him.

I swallowed hard, looking down at my glass. “Sometimes life just takes you in different directions,” I said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. “Jensen’s acting career was taking off, and I… I had my own path to follow. We couldn’t make it work with the distance.”

It was a truth that still stung, even after all this time. I’d always been proud of him, but it didn’t make it any easier when our worlds no longer fit together.

Jensen looked like he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t stay. Not with Danneel’s question lingering in the air, not with the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I should really get going,” I said, forcing a smile, my voice tight. “It’s getting late.”

Jensen reached out as if he wanted to stop me, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

“I’m glad we got to catch up,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was nice seeing you, Jensen. All of you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, I turned and walked out, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the storm swirling inside of me.

Some memories were just too heavy to carry, even when they were wrapped in laughter.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the bar, the cool night air hitting my face as I stepped outside. My chest felt tight, and I didn’t stop walking until I was far enough away that I could breathe again.

Some things were better left in the past. Even if the heart had a way of clinging to them.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, my heart raced. I thought I could escape the weight of the past, but as I made my way down the sidewalk, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps rushing after me.

“Y/N!” Jensen called, his voice full of urgency. I paused, glancing over my shoulder to see him closing the distance between us, concern etched on his face. He caught up to me, gently grabbing my arm to stop me.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his breath coming a bit heavier. The warmth of his hand on my arm sent a shiver through me.

I turned to face him, my chest tightening as I looked into his deep green eyes. “What is it, Jensen?”

"Don't leave like that please." I shuffled nervously.

His brow furrowed slightly as he studied my face. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” I couldn’t help but smile at that, he was trying to stall. “Neither have you.”

He tilted his head, an amused grin forming on his lips. “Have you ever even cut your hair differently?” I asked.

Instinctively, my hand moved to his hair, brushing my fingers through the familiar softness. The moment hung in the air between us, electric and charged with memories. But as I realized what I had done, my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, pulling my hand back, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

But he held my hand in place, bringing it back to his side, fingers intertwined. “You clearly missed 15 years of my career,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled, shaking my head. “Oh no, I really liked Supernatural.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You watched?”

I looked down, a shy smile creeping onto my face. “I promised you I’d support you. Always.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, the gentle touch sending a spark through me. His eyes locked on my lips. “It would be wrong if I want to kiss you, right?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the thought. “Yeah, right…”

But deep down, my heart was screaming the opposite. It wanted to feel his perfect lips against mine again, to bridge the gap that had formed between us over the years. All the memories of stolen kisses, laughter, and the way he used to look at me flooded back, overwhelming me.

“I shouldn’t have let you go all those years ago,” he said suddenly, the weight of his words heavy in the cool night air breaking the chain of thoughts. “I thought I could handle it, but I never realized how much I’d miss you.”

My breath caught at the honesty in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. “Jensen…”

“I know... and I don’t want to put you on the spot,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But seeing you tonight brought back... rverything, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mix of happiness and longing. “You matter, Jensen. You always have.”

He stepped closer, his breath mingling with the cool night air. “Then why did we let it slip away?” His voice was thick with emotion, and I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Because life happened,” I replied softly, my voice shaking. “We both got caught up in our dreams and forgot how to hold on to each other.”

“But we’re here now,” he said, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. “Can’t we just…?”

The warmth of his hand still holding mine, the softness of his touch—it felt so right. Everything in me wanted to say yes, to lean in and kiss him and pretend that nothing had ever changed. But reality loomed like a shadow, reminding me of all that had passed between us.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my heart torn between what I wanted and what I thought was right.

He stepped even closer, tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. “ I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my heart swell, but the fear of what that meant for us, after all this time, pulled me back. I could feel the tension between us thickening, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

And for a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to kiss him again. To feel his lips against mine, to reclaim that spark that had never truly gone away.

But then I remembered Danneel’s earlier words, the weight of their relationship looming like a cloud over us. It felt wrong, messy, and yet—

“Maybe you’re just drunk,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, hoping it would ease the tension hanging between us.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

The seriousness in his voice sent a rush of warmth through me, and before I knew it, he moved in closer, his intentions clear. There was an unspoken understanding in the air—he was giving me a chance to back out. But I didn’t want to back out. I couldn’t.

As he leaned in, I saw the same teenage boy I had fallen for all those years ago. The one who had clung to my legs while I read, the one who had made me laugh until my sides hurt, the one who had kissed me beneath the stars and took my breath away. That sweet, sweet young man who had always made me feel like I was his whole world.

His freckles were lighter now, but his eyes still shone with that same vibrant light that had captivated me back then. It was like he had somehow retained every part of himself that I had loved. And suddenly, the chaos of our lives faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of us standing there in the night, the world around us falling silent.

When his lips brushed over mine, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment. The warmth of his touch ignited something deep within me, pulling me back to that summer by the lake, when everything felt perfect and right. I could almost hear the sound of the water lapping at the shore, feel the gentle breeze on my skin.

It was there, in that sacred space between us, that I remembered the first time he said, “I love you.” It was shy, a whisper barely carried by the wind, but it was everything I had ever wanted to hear. That moment was etched in my heart, and now, with his lips on mine again, it felt like we were reclaiming it.

The kiss deepened, slow and tentative at first, as if we were both afraid of breaking the spell we were under. I felt my heart racing, every inch of my skin alive with sensation. He tasted like the memories of my youth—sweet, familiar, and filled with promise.

As we pulled away slightly, our foreheads resting against each other, I could see the questions dancing in his eyes, the uncertainty mingling with hope.

As we stood there, the worries of our past and the complexities of our present became distant echoes.

And all I could think of was maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other again.

Jared walked outside, his voice made me almost jump, but Jensen still held me. "Jensen, we're leaving, man."

Jensen turned his face but kept looking at me.

"I'll be right there."

I let go of him, both our eyes filled with tears either of joy that we found each other again, or out of spite we had to let go again.

"Bye." I whispered.

"Bye."

--

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