#like at the same time I don’t think they would of ever brought him back
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dindjarindiaries · 3 days ago
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Hauntings
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character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)
prompts: "How is it you always know what I need, huh?" / "No one’s ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in." / "Don’t go. Stay."
main masterlist • hunter masterlist
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You woke to the sound of shuffling footsteps through the corridor beyond your bedroom door. Blinking a few times into the darkness, your tired mind drew a quick conclusion about who would possibly be up in the middle of night—and who would have to pass your door on the way out.
When the name came to mind, your chest tightened with worry and sympathy so prominent that you lost your breath for a moment. All sense of exhaustion dissipated as you instead pulled on warmer clothes and slipped on your boots.
You slipped out as quietly as you could, though you knew it wouldn't matter. The only person who would possibly wake up at the sound of your escape was the same person you were currently pursuing.
The exterior door opened, and you resisted the urge to shiver when the island breeze blew upon you with no sun to warm you. You wrapped your arms around yourself and let out a soft exhale as you saw him exactly where you thought he'd be.
Hunter was standing by the stone railing of the balcony adorned with flowers. He made no move for the wooden gate that would take him to the rest of Pabu, and so you didn't bother to look away from him.
It was almost odd to see him in the relaxed clothing the villagers had supplied him with, a loose-fitting tunic and pair of trousers, but it also fit him well at the same time. You were also grateful that it gave the healing wounds beneath his clothes the proper space to breathe.
And your eyes the proper space to wander.
There was no doubt that Hunter already knew you were here, so you didn't hesitate in making your approach. You relaxed your arms and set a hand on his shoulder once you reached his side. You looked up at him as he looked down at you.
"Hey." You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's a bit late for exploring out here, don't you think?"
Hunter huffed, though his brow furrowed as he leaned his elbows against the railing. He let out a heavier breath and blinked a few times. "Sorry if I woke you." You frowned when his expression grew weary in guilt. "I just... needed some air."
You let your hand slide from his shoulder to his back. "Maybe you're starting to give me your enhanced senses by association."
That got another amused sound out of Hunter. Still, he remained tense, his gaze set on the homes and shores below.
"And it's okay. I'd actually prefer if you did wake me up at times like these." You fought the urge to hesitate; Hunter was clearly hurting, and you were done hiding from him. "I don't want you to be alone. Especially not after what happened there."
Your stare dropped to his left side. Because of his tunic's loose fabric, you could just barely catch sight of the gauze that was still wrapped around his middle, protecting the bacta that continued to heal a set of badly broken ribs.
Injuries that hadn't been treated, much less healed, when he'd been tortured.
You resisted the urge to pull the hand you still had on Hunter's back into a fist. The wave of rage these memories and this knowledge brought you was so powerful that you felt as if you could run headfirst into battle.
Hunter's head turned slightly towards you. His dark gaze still managed to glitter in the night as it caught your own. "How is it you always know what I need, huh?" He stood up to his full height once again and ran a hand over his hair. "I didn't even realize it myself."
Your brow furrowed. Hunter's hand took yours off his back, and he watched as his fingers slowly entwined with your own. Suddenly, the warmth of the Pabu sun that you had been missing burst within your chest.
The action said everything he couldn't. So did the trembling you felt in his grasp.
"What's wrong?" You drew yourself closer to him before you could stop it. You wanted to see his eyes up close, as if the answer to your newfound worry would be spelled out for you there. "Did something happen?"
Hunter's jaw tightened, and he looked out at the distance against. Your stare continued to study the side of his face, particularly the muscle that continued to flex in his jaw as he composed a response.
"Just hauntings." Hunter's characteristically low voice was somehow even lower when he finally responded. He gave his head an aimless shake. "Ghosts of things that already happened." His free hand absentmindedly drifted by his bandaged ribs.
You tightened your grasp on his hand. "No one’s ever going to hurt you again." Hunter turned to face you again, and you offered him a reassuring nod. "I promise you that on everything I believe in."
You leaned close enough to rest your head against his arm as you looked out at the quiet Pabu night. Your lips curled up in a meaningful smile, your anger shifting into relief.
"We're safe here."
Hunter began to return your smile. "I know." He sighed. "And I'm no stranger to getting hurt. It's just..."
He trailed off, a knit forming in his brow as he searched for the right words. You shook your head at him.
"But this was different, Hunter." You lifted your free hand to his cheek, relieved when he visibly relaxed at your touch. "Your senses were targeted. It was... so malicious."
Even just remembering what he and the others had detailed to you made you breathless with fury with despair. You had to thank the stars that you were distracted from it in the moment by helping Echo at that base.
Hunter's eyelids began to flutter closed in a palpable exhaustion, one that was even more evident when he leaned into you, the warmth of his forehead meeting yours. You tightened your lips and ran your thumb over the skin underneath his eye in soothing, repetitive circles.
He really had been through way too much over the last few months; if you were being honest, over the course of his entire life. All the clones had, though as the leader of an outcast group, Hunter always shouldered a burden you couldn't imagine carrying, especially after losing Crosshair and Omega temporarily—and Tech permanently.
It was all too much, and he just needed to let himself rest.
You let out a soft exhale and gently patted his cheek. "You need to go back to bed. I can literally feel your exhaustion."
Hunter's eyes reopened, and all he did was nod before you began to guide him back towards his room. If you had left him on his own, he would have continued to stay out there all night, and that was something you simply refused to allow. Even if he still wasn't ready to share a bed, you certainly preferred that he remained in his own rather than standing outside alone.
But when you arrived at Hunter's door and prepared to drop his hand to go towards your own, he only held on tighter. He even gave it a little tug that urged you closer to him.
"Don’t go." Hunter's voice was nearly timid as he pleaded with you, his dark eyes wider than usual. "Stay."
You didn't need convincing. You nodded and continued to hold on to him as he took you through the threshold of his room.
You had always imagined your first night spent together in each other's arms to be different than this, but you were more than willing to make an exception. This is how he needed you, and you were going to be there for him, acting as his anchor to reality when the hauntings returned.
You had indeed won yourselves a life of external peace, but it was still a long road to earning that peace internally, and you weren't letting Hunter go on that journey alone.
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rafeskai · 2 days ago
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Violets for Roses - Rafe Cameron
One-shot inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Violet for Roses"
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Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with me
And God knows the only mistake that a man can make is tryna make a woman change and trade her violets for roses
Summary: The reader, an aspiring actress, faces a heartbreaking confrontation with Rafe Cameron, who believes her dreams of moving to Los Angeles are unrealistic and wants her to stay in Kildare to build a simpler life with him. Despite her love for him, the reader realizes that sacrificing her ambitions for his vision would mean losing herself.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x AspiringActress!Reader
Warnings: Angst & just Rafe being really toxic lol.
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The fight with Rafe was brewing long before you even knew it. It was in every dismissive scoff when you mentioned auditions, in every time he’d change the subject whenever you’d dream out loud about Los Angeles. It was in every eye roll when you brought up your favorite actresses or directors, the people you’d studied obsessively since high school. And now, it’s spilling over—weeks, maybe even months of resentment unraveling in his bedroom.
“You’re really just gonna throw us away for some… fantasy?” Rafe’s voice is thick with frustration, every syllable weighted. “You’re not some actress, Y/N. You’re just… you. You’re never gonna be one of those people.”
The words sting like a slap. You’ve heard him doubt your dreams before, subtly, gently, but tonight it’s different. Tonight, he doesn’t hold back. “Why do you care so much about this? About some fake Hollywood life?”
You clench your fists, fighting to keep your voice steady. “It’s not fake, Rafe. This is real to me. It’s everything I’ve worked for, everything I want to be.”
“And that means more to you than us?” His question hangs heavy in the air, a trap you can see coming from miles away but can’t avoid. His blue eyes, usually so warm, are cold now, scrutinizing you.
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. “I don’t want a simple life,” you finally admit, and it feels like exhaling after holding your breath too long. “I don’t want to stay in Kildare and pretend that’s enough for me when it’s not.”
“Why?” he says, his voice low, like he’s afraid of the answer.
“Because I can’t trade my dreams for yours.” The words spill out, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “I love you, Rafe, but I also love myself. And that means going after this. I’m not going to stay just to keep you happy.”
Rafe’s face softens for a moment, vulnerability breaking through the anger, but it fades quickly, replaced by a steely resolve. “If you leave, don’t expect me to be waiting for you.”
A lump forms in your throat, and you know this is it. If you stay, it’ll be for him, not for you. If you go, it’s a leap into the unknown, one where Rafe might not be in the picture. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”
And with that, you turn and walk away, leaving behind the life he tried to shape for you, the one that never quite fit.
Two months later, you’re in Los Angeles, breathing in the open-air scent of Larchmont Village. The warm breeze sweeps across your skin, carrying with it the smell of flowers and freshly brewed coffee. The sun beats down, casting everything in a golden glow, and for the first time, you feel truly free.
It’s a Saturday afternoon, and the girls around you are dressed in sundresses, laughing without a care, exposing bare faces and wide smiles. You smile too, feeling that same joy seep into your bones, like the city itself is welcoming you home. This life, this city—it’s vibrant, messy, electric. It’s everything Kildare wasn’t, everything you were missing.
The Paramount sign sparkles in the distance, a beacon you once only saw in magazines and movie credits, and now, it feels like it’s lighting up just for you. Your heart swells as you look at it, thinking of all the dreams you had, the ones Rafe wanted you to set aside. This city, it doesn’t just allow you to dream; it demands it.
“Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with me,” you whisper to yourself, feeling the words settle into your heart. Each syllable is a quiet reminder that loving yourself isn’t selfish; it’s necessary. When you loved Rafe, you’d sacrificed so much of yourself, convincing yourself that his simple dreams were enough. But here, in the warmth of Los Angeles, you’re reclaiming everything you let slip away.
You’d never noticed it before, but Rafe’s love had come with conditions. He loved you, yes, but only the parts of you that fit into his life. He was drawn to your fire, but he wanted to tame it, to keep it small and safe so it wouldn’t consume him.
He made you trade your violets for roses, wanted you to choose tradition over the ambition that set your heart ablaze. When you’d talk about acting, he’d say, “That’s great, babe, but don’t you want something real?” As if your dreams weren’t valid, as if they were just fantasies, things to let go of for a white-picket fence, a life that fit his mold. The truck you dreamed of owning, the freedom you craved—he wanted to exchange it for horses and stables, for the steady routine of a life rooted in one place.
And for a while, you let him.
But now, each step you take in L.A. feels like reclaiming a part of yourself. Every coffee shop, every bookstore you stumble into, feels like a universe waiting for you to write your own story. Your days are filled with auditions, with scripts spread across your apartment floor, with nights spent memorizing lines and dreaming of roles you could bring to life.
It’s hard, and you’re not always sure you’ll make it, but it’s your life, and for the first time, it feels entirely yours.
One evening, as you walk down a quiet street, the air still and warm, you think of Rafe. You wonder if he’s missing you, if he’s trying to imagine you in this new world, a world that’s as foreign to him as the one he tried to push you into was to you.
You don’t miss him, though. You miss the girl you were before you let him dim your spark, the girl who once believed she could conquer Hollywood, whose dreams were as boundless as the California sky. And as you walk, the shadows stretch and the quiet settles, you realize that girl is back.
One morning, you stand outside a casting agency, the sun warming your face. You close your eyes, inhaling the scent of lilies mixed with the hint of exhaust and coffee from the nearby café. You feel the city’s pulse, its rhythm, and it beats in time with yours.
Rafe had never understood why you’d wanted this life, but that doesn’t matter anymore. The city, with its flashing lights and dusty sidewalks, with its blend of elegance and grit, it understands you. It’s a love that’s pure, that asks for nothing but your own ambition, and it’s a love that feels like freedom.
And so you walk into the building, your heart pounding with nerves and excitement, knowing this is only the beginning.
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© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
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otomehonyaku · 2 days ago
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DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Stellaworth Complete Set Tokuten Short Stories ☽ Ruki ver.
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Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD ステラワース全巻連動購入特典ショートストーリ English translation by @otomehonyaku Scans can be found here (courtesy of @karleksmumskladdkaka!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
SUMMARY | This short story provides a slice of Ruki and Yui's daily life after the events of More,Blood. Ruki has always had a preference for soup, but when Yui prepares a particularly hearty vegetable soup for him one day, he comes to an important realisation.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
—The first time I learned to appreciate soup was when I was in that dark cage.
“It had already gone cold, but to me, it was the most delicious thing on Earth back then. It was infinitely better than the junk I ate while I roamed the streets, after all.”
“Oh…”
Somehow, as I ate the soup she had prepared for me, I had somehow started talking about all the reasons why I had this particular preference for the dish. The story had stolen the words right from her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have brought up such an unpleasant story during dinner.”
“That’s… that’s not it,” she explained, hurrying to wipe the tears from her eyes. That’s not what I meant…”
“Do you pity my past self?”
“Pity kind of feels like… a high-handed way of putting it. I don’t mean it like that…”
“I see.” My voice was monotonous while I spoke. 
I took up my spoon again and continued to eat. 
It was a simple consomme soup, filled with colourful slices of a variety of vegetables. The soup that we were served during our time in the detention facility was a far cry from this. Back then, the few off-coloured beans that floated in the soup, though they barely had any nutritional value, were enough to bring me at least an inkling of happiness. 
While the memory resurfaced, it occurred to me that I had obtained true happiness since then, no matter how absurd it seemed.
“And to think a human would accompany me at dinner…” I mumbled to myself, earning a surprised look and a soft what did you say? from her. 
It’s nothing, I swiftly replied.
My life was saved by Him. The four of us had been destined to die a noble death in that filthy cell, and yet He had rescued us. Just like that, he became our god. Our saviour.
Someone to serve.
My brothers and I would do anything to fulfil his wishes without batting so much as an eye. And yet… What was I even doing right now?
I let her make soup for me like this. She willingly stayed with me all this time, even though she cannot become Eve. Even though I cannot become Adam.
“Ruki…?”
As we sat in silence, various thoughts stirring inside of me and picking at my resolve, I reached across the table to take her hand in my own.
“...?”
“Sorry. Would it be alright… if we stayed like this for a little while?” I said, my grip on her small, soft hand tightening. 
Greed is a grave sin according to God. 
Considering that I agreed with Him, I was awfully addicted to this greed all the same. I was the sinner of all sinners, thriving on such atrocities. When a simple bean soup was all it took to please you, the first taste of a good vegetable soup makes it easy to take such happiness for granted.
“Still, I will…” 
Never let you go, I wanted to say, but I could not manage the words. She likely did not want to listen to the mutterings of such a weak, pitiable man.
It was difficult to gauge her thoughts, but it was then that she spoke with a gentle smile on her face. “Don’t worry.”
“What?”
“I’ll be by your side, Ruki.”
My eyes unconsciously widened in response. Her soft smile made my chest ache. She was Eve and I was her captor—she should be miserable, and yet she was so extraordinarily kind. 
Did she not realise that it would only add to my suffering?
“Alright,” I replied curtly. Then, ever so unwillingly…  I let go of her hand. “The soup is getting cold. Let’s eat.”
“Yes, let’s.”
After that, we ate the soup together in silence. 
I found myself thinking there was nothing in the world that I wanted more in that moment. No matter how lavish a meal I would be served, I would cherish this vegetable soup as my favourite dish for as long as I lived.
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erasinglines · 1 day ago
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it's bittersweet, being back here, faced with memories from the life they once shared together. there's happy ones, of course, that flood to the forefront of his mind— the first time they ever said they loved each other, just down the hall in the bathroom; or all the times following that where those three words were uttered, whether that was in the kitchen, after a dinner they prepared together went horribly wrong and all they could do was laugh at it, or in their bed in the morning, when they awoke to the sight of each other, or in the hallway, just before they're out the door, each day they had to go to work. there was always something so certain back then; this love that held them together, the home they found in each other, that they could return to the safety of, each and every single day. and it's taken him awhile this time around, but he's found his way eventually— back to her, his home. with that, of course, comes memories that are harder to swallow, that aren’t as easy to think back on; two lines on a test, reality coming crashing down around them when that was no longer a possibility, secrets around a job interview, a job offer, a final goodbye, and even a heavy sense of grief, that brought him back to the safety of these walls. and they’re hard to acknowledge, yes, but in a similar way to how those happier memories are, too— all that they had, they nurtured and grew together, all to slip away from them, just like that. there’s so much history, here, in their surroundings, in the breath that they share, so close together. there’s not much else to focus on, then, as her nose nudges against his, the feeling of her breath warm against his skin. no, not much else at all, other than the pounding of his heart in his ears, his chest rising and falling with each of her words. not much else other than the feeling of what it’s like to kiss her, again, to give into the desire he’s tried to tamper down for so long, pretend like it wasn’t there. but, it screams at him now— yes, it’s still there, no, it’s never gone away. so, talk, yes, they definitely should talk, go over the situation they’ve put themselves in, but there were already on the edge of the cliff, weren’t they? what was one more step? “ we should, you’re right, ” his agreement falls easily, because he’s in no position to disagree, but his pause says it all, perfectly timed as her hand rests against his chest, lips close to his own, just barely touching. holds onto some form of restraint, not closing that gap right away, continuing to hover there, fighting the urge. “ i don’t think that makes you a terrible person, no, ” because it was her, them— this would never feel wrong, not to him. besides, the last thing he’d want is for her to feel guilty over it. “ i feel the same, ” he breathes, inching just that little bit closer. and it shouldn’t be surprising, not really, not when they’ve always been on the same page, even about this. as it turns out, self-control isn’t his strongest suit, and soon enough, he’s closing the gap between them again, his lips to hers, but this time there’s an urgency to the kiss, like he can’t stomach the thought of another second passing without feeling her against him. he only pulls away enough to mumble his next words, right there against her. “ actually, i keep thinking that maybe talking can just wait until later. ”
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devon can’t stop the memories that flood her mind as they stand here together, in a home that was once theirs. can’t help but remember how it felt to come home with him after a long night out, tired and far too drunk, his arms wrapped around her as their laughter bounced off the walls, stumbling to their room to help each other carefully peel their clothes off before sliding comfortably into bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms. or how they would make breakfast together on slow weekend mornings, drinking coffee in bed and spilling half of it on the sheets, or evenings spent listening to him read to her, staying up too late talking about anything and everything. maybe that’s why she couldn’t fathom leaving this place, despite his absence— so much good happened here. there was so much love embedded in these walls, in each creak of the floorboards, in every piece of furniture they picked out together. and now she could almost trick herself into believing they had gone back in time, that this was just another one of those nights, where she could just lead him to their bedroom, kissing all the way there, but it wasn’t. or at least, it shouldn’t be. despite how her lips tingle to kiss him again and again, she knows they’ve already crossed a line. but hearing him echo just how much he missed her, too, blurs it even further in her mind. that always happened with him, didn’t it ? he was the exception to every rule, the only person she would do absolutely anything for, if he asked, no matter the consequences. it’s intoxicating, being this close, kissing him, touching him, feeling the warmth of his body against her own one more time. even if he wasn’t technically hers anymore, god, was she so fucking lucky to have him at all. remains close as she smiles up at him, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. “ feels real to me, too, ” she whispers, so real that it’s almost visceral— her senses were overrun, her brain filled only with thoughts of them and the life they once shared, her heart overwhelmed with love and care. and it’s enough, just being here with him like this, but she can’t ignore that desire for more, even though she’s desperately trying to shove it down, to remind herself that there had to be some sort of boundary, that there were two other people to think about. it’s hard, though, when he’s kissing her, or looking at her like that, or when he reaches down to intertwine their fingers together so easily. fuck. “ me too. i've almost called you so many times, ” it’s followed with a squeeze of his hand, then, as her nose nudges against his own, tempted to close the gap and kiss him again, but she tries to hold onto any shred of self control she has left, just for good measure. even then, she doesn’t pull away. “ do you want to ? talk, i mean, ” she breathes, voice coarse. “ because we can. we should, probably, ” the words are a little shakier, now, as her free hand slides up to rest against his chest, curling against the material of his shirt as she leans in closer, lips skating against his. “ because i… i’m afraid that if i keep kissing you, i won’t be able to stop, and i’ll do something really fucking stupid, that i know i shouldn’t but that i can’t help because it’s you. ” — “ does that make me a terrible person, you think ? ”
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I am listening! I am invested! Please yap about your au idea!!
AHHHHHHHHHIIWJHDIEHDIANRRUFIFBFIEBF HFHDB I GET TO YAP ABOUT THIS YAYYYYYY
ok so, I honestly don’t have much of an idea as to where exactly this would go, but just for the basics (which I’m mostly coming up with on the fly, I’ll be honest) here we go:
(this ended up being quite long so everything else is under the break, sorry!)
obviously, ford and bill were not always… separated, as it were. growing up and into his teens and early twenties it was just stanford pines, no “alter egos” or masks or anything of the sort (much as he would’ve loved to be able to hide who he was).
then, when he moved up to gravity falls and began his research, he began to realize that there were so many things that he wanted to do, couldn’t do, because of his reputation. he needed to keep his record clean because if he didn’t, he could easily have his grant money revoked, and any future opportunities in the pursuit of science dashed due to one small slip up. so, he began to look into, well, changing who he was, splitting himself, so to speak, as to be not one but two at the same time.
eventually, it worked somehow (probably through a potion, as jekyll uses in the original book), and he found himself as not just one, but seemingly two people in one body. there was the stanford pines most people knew, the eccentric, odd mad scientist that lived in the woods at the edge of town, and then there was another, completely new facade. bill cipher, named for his often frustratingly vague double speak and extreme use of overly complicated metaphors (yes I’m giving bill’s name a reason, it sort of annoys me that theres no reasoning for hyde’s name in the book but thats a rant for another day).
to begin with, bill seems content with simply switching back and forth at ford’s will, being the way for ford to kick back and let loose with no fear of the repercussions. at least, until ford begins to have trouble getting back to himself. thats when he begins to doubt the true intent of his other self, of bill. its around this time he calls fiddleford. the man may have studied engineering, but in this world he also knows a little something about psychology, and paired with his brilliant mind, ford’s very precise notes of the situation (ahem the journals ahem), and the fact that hes basically ford’s only friend, it felt like the best course of action.
of course, in actual gravity falls, ford does his best to hide bill from fidds but here bill is exactly why ford called him. anyone else would’ve called him crazy, tried to experiment on him or worse, but fiddeford would never do any of that and ford knows it (just to be clear, I do think that if I ever wrote anything for this au college fiddauthor would be heavily implied here).
fidds does his best to help but when bill goes on a rampage one night, going so far as to kill the heir to the northwest family, preston northwest, he knows ford is beyond fucked (just a heads up, the person bill kills being preston may change but idk, we’ll see if I ever actually come back to this au haha). the reason fiddleford originally makes the memory gun in this au isnt for himself, its actually to try and erase the memories of what bill has down from the townspeople’s minds. the only problem is that the next time they see bill all of the memories return and everyone is back at square one. its just too much for fidds, and he begins to turn the memory gun on himself in an attempt to get rid of the fear, pain, failure, and regret that helping his friend brought him.
ford on the hand is mortified by what hes done. I highly doubt that there would be a confrontation type scene, it would be closer to how the book goes, where ford quickly begins to be unable to switch between stanford pines and bill cipher. the au would probably “end” (as in if I turned this into a fanfic/comic/whatever the story would end there) with ford figuring out where stan is, calling and begging him to come up to gravity falls and help him, before ultimately turning the memory gun on himself and ridding himself of “bill” once and for all.
the only problem is that in order to remove bill, he has to remove stanford pines and all that he is as well. now, we all know how this goes in both the show and most aus; stan or ford or whoever it is that is possessed by bill erases themselves/has someone erase them, is weirdly blank for a bit but ultimately regains their memories. well here it… wouldnt work like that. bill(/hyde) is an integral part of ford(/jekyll), to remove bill(hyde) is to remove stanford pines (jekyll), theres no way around that. so, ford sort of ends up in that “blank slate” state for the rest of his life. he called stan prior to erasing himself because he knew stan would take care of him no matter what, and he was right. for the rest of their lives, stan takes care of his brother to the best of his abilities, and while they never get to sail the seas together, and some nights bring unimaginable sorrow for stan, knowing he’ll never speak to his brother again, despite the fact that very man sleeps just a few doors down the hall, they make it work. ford (or, well, whats left behind when you remove everything that makes a person who they are) sees that his blankness hurt stan but he cant do anything about it, and to begin with almost avoids stan, at least before they finally have a talk in which stan reassures “ford” that he’s sure whatever reason ford may have had for erasing himself, it was worth it.
as for fidds, well it mostly works out in a similar way to canon, he does eventually regain most memories but of course some bits are still fuzzy. the fuzzy bits are never fully recovered, as the one person who may have been able to fill in the blanks no longer exists, but fidds is still mostly alright.
the journals… sort of exist? but not in the way that they do in the show, and what does exist stan had from the very beginning. ofc the twins still have to deal with monsters and spooks and whatnot in gravity falls, just not anything that has to do with bill (which means that, of course, weirdmageddon physically cannot happen). at some point, dipper begins to insinuate that the weirdness of gravity falls might have something to do with “ford’s”… situation, which is when stan finally fully comes clean with all he knows about the situation. its not until fiddleford begins to regain his memory, however, that any of them learn the truth of what was going on.
oh yikes, I wrote a lot more for this than I meant to, whoops!
oh yeah, I’m naming this au the “Dr. Pines/Mr. Cipher” au for now, but if anyone has any better ideas or if thats already been used for something else, please let me know!
also, @aaabatteryy I LOVE MARINEFLAMES’ CONFRONTATION ANIMATIC, THAT WAS ACTUALLY WHAT I WAS REFERENCING WHEN I MENTIONED OTHER ANIMATIONS USING A SIMILAR CONCEPT TO THIS AU
oh, and I just want to say that I’ve never watched the musical so thats why this doesnt (intentionally) incorporate any elements of that.
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inhurtandincomfort · 12 hours ago
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A Night to Regret
CW: Kidnapping, abusive relationship
“Hey babe,” Kieran answered his phone with a grin, “Yeah, I’m on my way back now. Guess what? I’ve got a job!” 
“Really? That’s amazing!” He pulled it back from his ear as Abigail squealed, “What is it?” 
“It’s a short film, an original horror I think. I don’t know all the details, Kate said she’d email them to me first thing Monday. It’s a student film, but they’ve done quite a few popular ones.” 
“You know what this means? Celebration! We should invite Mike and Lisa, I’ll see if Cameron’s free too, and Jaysen, though I think he’s busy…”
Kieran laughed softly, “Is that really necessary? I was thinking we could just have a quiet night in, just the two of us.”  
“We do that all the time! Come on, we haven’t had a get together in ages. It’ll be fun. We’ll order pizza, and if you pick up some drinks on your way home… ooh, make sure you get some of that beer I like.”  “Since when did this become about you?” 
“I’ll pay for everything!” 
He smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “I got it, don’t worry. You order some pizzas, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” 
“Love you!”
Kieran slid his phone into his pocket, making a u-turn to head towards their favoured liquor store. He shivered, hugging himself as he walked down the quiet street. Strange, to be so quiet on a Saturday evening; it was freezing, he reasoned. It wasn’t that late, but the sun set early this time of year and a starless sky made the frigid air seem bleak. Still, deserted streets always held an eerie feeling. Though they weren’t completely empty, he only saw an occasional passerby in thick coats, scarves weaved around their faces. Man, he should have brought a scarf; his lips were probably turning blue. 
A small, childish part of him wished he had stayed talking with Abigail. Past every alley, every covered stranger, a chill crept up his spine that had nothing to do with the weather. He considered calling her back. She was probably calling their friends though. You’re worrying over nothing, he scolded himself. He was a grown-ass man, he could handle walking down a street himself, the same route he’d taken many times before. Alone. In the dark. 
Abigail kept telling him he should ask his doctor about anxiety meds. Maybe she was right. 
He was relieved when he made it to the store, offering him a brief respite. There was only one other customer who seemed to be studying two bottles intently. Kieran made his purchase, making easy small talk with the grizzled cashier trying to ignore his stomach twisting in knots.
He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get warm, an awkward motion carrying bags of glass bottles. He hummed to himself as he walked, a cheesy romance he hoped would stave off anxious thoughts. He glanced behind. A couple of men were trailing at a steady pace, scarves concealing their faces. He turned back to face forward, his pace quickening just slightly. People are allowed to walk behind you, Kieran. He told himself firmly. Learning to face your fears is an important part of recovery. Don’t let anxiety control you. 
…But he’d also been taught to follow his instincts. What was he supposed to do when every gut feeling told him to run? 
He considered stopping to let them pass. Would that just make him seem suspicious? It would probably be weird. Home wasn’t far, he’d be there soon. A black car with tinted windows was parked up ahead. Had it ever been there before? He shook his head. Paranoid. He’s just paranoid. Lukas had always said so. It was hardly an unusual car, it’s no surprise he’d never noticed it. And people were allowed to visit.
Still, as he got closer his shoulders hunched, blood rushing in his ears. His stomach cramped, tightening painfully as every signal in his body rang wrong, wrong, wrong. Something was wrong. He halted in his tracks, willing himself to move, his body frozen as his mind raced, every alarm bell screaming go back, go back, danger danger dangerdanger-
A heavy weight slung around his shoulders drawing him in. He opened his mouth to yell, a gloved hand silencing him. Something hard pressed into his back, small and rounded and fuck, this wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening-
“Don’t make a sound,” A gruff voice whispered, a voice that didn’t sound natural. They were trying to disguise it. “Come with us quietly, and there won’t be any problems.” 
Kieran nodded numbly, his heart hammering against his chest. With a small nudge from whoever stood behind, with a gun did they have a gun please say that’s not a gun he was bundled into the black car where someone was already waiting to drive away. Two men sat either side of him, blocking every exit.
“Head down,” One commanded, shoving his head to his knees before he even had a chance to do so himself. His shopping bag was placed by their feet. They’d probably take the drinks for themselves. They took his phone too, along with his wallet leaving him with no form of identification. 
“Who are you?” Kieran dared to ask, his voice trembling. “Where are we going?”
“Shut up.” 
They were going to kill him. Oh god, he was going to be murdered, his body thrown in a woods somewhere or a lake or burned and oh god. Would they ever find him? Would his mother get to bury him? What about Abi, would she blame herself? How long would it take her to grow concerned? Was she already pacing around anxiously, wringing her hands, waiting for him to come home?
When they were out of city limits, they pushed him to the floor, wrapping cloth around his eyes, binding his wrists and ankles with duct tape which they also placed over his mouth. They must have driven for miles. He was transferred to another vehicle at some point, open conversations taking place in a language he couldn’t understand. Occasionally they’d rip the tape off to pour water down his throat. He fell asleep at one point, he thought. It was all a haze, fuzzy memories leaving him unable to distinguish what’s real and what is fake. 
Next thing he knew he was being roughly dragged outside, mud staining his clothes as  he was thrown to the floor. 
“Good to see you again, Angel.” 
Kieran stilled, every hair on his neck stood on end, his heart leapt to his throat. He thought it might just stop. 
“What? Cat got your tongue?” Lukas jeered, his honeyed voice washed over Kieran like acid. The blindfold was yanked off his face, letting him look up to a man he wished he’d forgotten. 
Calloused fingers cupped his cheek tenderly, bronze eyes filled with such gentle warmth met his own. He used to melt under that same gaze, putty in his hands. He would have done anything to please him, debased himself in so many ways just to see those soft eyes look at him once more. 
Now they just filled him with fear. 
“It’s been so long, hasn’t it Angel? Were you afraid you wouldn't see me again? I was beside myself. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing your face, haunting me like an enthralling ghost. I didn’t know what to do, I was so lost without you.” Lukas grabbed Kierans face in both hands, leaning in so close their noses almost touched, staring deep into his eyes in a way that made his skin crawl. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be some horrible nightmare, he was gone, he got out, he fled across half the country just to be safe and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell, wanted to kick and scratch and do anything that would get him out of here, anything to never be trapped with this monster again. 
But his limbs were bound, his mouth stuffed full of cloth. Even if they weren’t, he wasn’t sure he was capable of it. He’d never fought back then. He hadn’t changed at all, not really. He was still the same meek figure he’d been back then. 
“You should never have left me Angel,” Lukas breathed, his breath hot on his face. “You’ll never leave me again.”
If you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it really helps the reach and lets others enjoy it too!
Being kidnapped by your abusive ex is bad enough - even worse is Lukas needs to make money. How will he do that? Hurting his Angel on camera, of course <3
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jalluzas-ferney · 1 year ago
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I just joined Tik tok again after like an year or smth cuz I wanted to find more edits of my fave shows and for my friends to be able to send my tim tons easier etc etc that’s not my point.
I noticed that the Ninjago community there hates Euphrasia WAYY too much 😭😭 and it’s getting very fucking annoying 💀💀
LIKE 😭😭 Why are are they calling her a “pick me girl” 😭😭 WHAT DID SHE EVEN DO💀💀 Everyone just pissed that “she’s replacing Morro” and it’s so annoying cuz- Morro fucking died 💀 it’s over 😭😭 look I dunno if when he died again he went to the departed realm or just disappears out of the phase of the earth but he wasn’t gonna keep his power anyways 😭😭 that’s just how it works 🦭..and if the case is that he went to the departed realm and there’s a chance for him to come back- then ok??? He’ll come back without his elemental power??? 😭 But then again I really doubt he would come back and y’all r simply gonna have to deal w that. Iike when an elemental master dies their power goes to someone else period. You can’t expect him to keep that damn power forever 😭😭 and it makes much more sense since it’s a new series- new generation of elemental masters. It’s not that surprising that they decided to find a new Wind master.
AND STOP CALLING HER PICK ME WHY DOES EVERYONE CALL HER PICK ME GIRL😭😭 srs what did she even do other than exist and just have morros “ex” elemental power😟
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4lexnilsen · 3 days ago
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“are you aware of this very special talent of yours?   how you make everything way more fun than it really is?”   alex coos with a sweet,  boyish smile,  watching as poppy’s lips close around the still warm cinnamon roll.   he laughs as crumbs fall onto the floor between them,  the pad of his thumb dusting off her chin.   he’s loved baking ever since he can remember.   at first,  it was something that brought him closer to his mom or rather the memory of her.   then,  it became an effective way of keeping all his brothers occupied —   baking cookies for santa,  pumpkin pies for thanksgiving,  cherry pies as a sweet summer treat.   now it’s mostly a hobby,  and his love language.   after all,  nothing says i love you quite as homemade sweets.   and having poppy around,  either perched on the counter or hugging him from behind or adding some secret ingredients to his recipes,  never fails to make his heart soar.   “yeah,  no…   if you spell it out for me,  it’ll be the only thing on my mind until we get back home.   you don’t want to torture me like this.   i’ve got an idea.”   he beams at her,  feeding him and letting out these little moans of approval that always make his cheeks heat up.   those cinnamon rolls are really good,  though.   “oh,  we’ll do that.”   his nieces and nephews don’t know the difference between homemade goods and those store-bought.   they’ll be content as long as the sugar index is high enough to put a grown man in a diabetic coma.   
the nilsen’s family reunions are usually highly entertaining events.   their brothers turn into five year olds the second they cross the threshold of their childhood home,  their spouses attempt to keep them under control up until that third glass of wine and then dissolve into giggles and gossip,  the actual children are like chimpanzees on the loose,  and his father tends to get emotional every time the festivities come to an end,  but alex wouldn’t want to have it any other way.   being the self-proclaimed favorite uncle,  he is immediately swarmed by all the snot-covered gremlins,  sticky hands dragging him away to assist in the annual pumpkin painting / carving contest,  little voices ringing in his ears,  demanding his full,  undivided attention.    he has to,  once or twice,  explain to his six year old niece that poppy isn’t dressed as a female version of pennywise   (yes,  the hair is the same color.   yes,  it might be confusing.   no,  not all redheads are evil clowns.   yes,  some orange-haired politician are evil clowns,  but that’s beyond the point.)   and he’s not a victorian orphan,  but other than that it’s a fairly peaceful evening.   he ends up with glitter and bows in his hair,  lipstick on his eyelids,  but that’s nothing new.   they love turning him into a princess,  and he’s just glad to be included.   after all,  one day,  all these kids will be grown up and think he’s anything but cool.
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“baby,”   he calls out from across the room,  seeing that she’s been chatting up with his dad and deciding to throw her a life raft in case she needs it,   “would you like to join us?   i don’t think i have the skill to help lily bring her vision to life,  but you’re real good with makeup.   i think you’re also good at painting pumpkins.”   his little niece beams at that,  her bleach blonde wig barely hanging onto her scalp,  that blue elsa gown all wrinkled after hours of playing with her cousins.   there’s paint on her cheeks and hands,  but she still jumps up to her feet and races to where poppy’s seated,  hoping to drag her to the floor so she can help her turn that big pumpkin into olaf.   “alex doesn’t know who olaf is,”   she explains with a sigh and a dramatic roll of her eyes,  hands on her hips as she judges her uncle for that embarrassing lack of knowledge.  
@sparelove
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"of course i want to try it." as alex dips the knife into the icing, she's careful to place a hand beneath it as he lays it carefully across her tongue. "yeah, no. we can't bring that. i have to eat one right now." she smiles when she notices the pink of alex's cheeks. "you know what i mean, alex nilsen. don't be coy." she takes the knife from his hand and continues to ice the rest of the cinnamon rolls, teasing him all the while. "work it off meaning something akin to what we did this morning, and last night. would you like me to spell it out for you?" she scoops a roll onto a plate that sat close by, grabbing alex a fork so they could both try it. "i make no promises that we won't be late though, if we start…" poppy cuts a piece, waiting for him to open his mouth before pulling away. a moan of pleasure passes her lips when she tries a bite of her own. these may have been the best cinnamon rolls she's ever had. "we should just pick up those festive frosted sugar cookies on the way."
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which is exactly what they did; and despite the looks of judgement from bryce when they arrive without what had been promised, poppy quickly shuts the second nilsen brother down. "i'm sorry, bryce, what was it you made for this party?" she asks as she sets down their container of cookies. when his eyes narrow on her, poppy pushes again, "it's my fault, not his. they were just too good to be wasted on the youth." byrce rolls his eyes with a laugh, "i'm not disappointed my children aren't getting to have any. i'm disappointed." she nods, "now that i understand."
after explaining to a few of alex's neices and nephews what their costumes were, and therefore also explaining that they weren't old enough to watch the film, poppy found herself sitting with mr. nilsen while everyone else carved pumpkins. "you know, i didn't used to let the boys even celebrate this holiday," he began, prompting a chuckle from poppy. "i do know as a matter of fact. your son and i had a fight about it earlier." the confession prompts a look of concern from alex's father but the blonde is quick to settle his worries. "about religion, more specifically. it worked itself out." there's a heavy sigh as mr. nilsen crosses his hands in his lap, looking across the room to his children and grandchildren were. "i didn't know any better." poppy nods before she settles an arm across his shoulders. "but now you do, and that's all that matters." the only point that meant something was that four well-rounded men were out in the world. they had families and lovers, great friends and careers that kept a roof over their heads. by all means, mr. nilsen was successful. no parent was perfect. but the love poppy felt from alex and the rest of his family was a job well done in her opinion. complicated relationship with religion or not, she was happier when she was around them.
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screampied · 5 months ago
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sukuna never says “i love you.”
to him, the words are meaningless. he’s been alive for thousands and thousands of years, of course he knows what it means. he’s not stupid, but for some reason—every time it comes out of your little human mouth, his heart aches. you say it so sweetly with the cheekiest grin on your face, not a single care in the world. he hated it. three words, eight letters of pure rubbish. at least, that’s what he thinks to himself. for sukuna, he expresses his love in a different way.
physical touch. flicking your forehead, teasing you, saying things he’d never say to you while you were awake. that was his version of love, he didn’t need those stupid, stupid words. or did he?
“love you, ‘kuna,” you’d pepper another kiss against his cheek. he tchs, the audacity for you to do something so embarrassing. he never says it back but you know deep down he’s got to feel at least something in that cold heart of his. he just has to, after all you did steal his heart in a way. and he stole yours. your eyes always had a glinting sparkle whenever those words would come out and he hated it. his response to you saying you loved him would always be the same.
“yeah yeah,” he gruffs. or a simple, “i know..”
but— there’d be a time where he’d regret not saying it back. a cold, cruel time where it’s just you and him, no one else. except, it would really just be him.
sukuna had a hard time at expression his feelings. it’s not like he hated you—despite his rough, barbarous persona.
he didn’t hate you but he did. it was complicated. it was a struggle trying to put it into words. all he knew was that he loathed how soft you made him, he noticed his behavior would change around you overtime. sukuna’s voice was get more gentle, his shoulders would relax, and he’d always finding himself flicking your forehead for some strange reason. it’s annoying,
you’re annoying.
the feeling was love though, it had to be.
had to be,
so the moment comes where he regrets not saying it back.
it’s something he’d continuously beat himself up over for. because now, here you are, laid all out near the ground in his arms. all four of his arms held you in a tight, cradling embrace and he’s got an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. sukuna’s scarlet red irises were blown and fearfully dilated. his thin nostrils flared up and his slit brows contort in panic and confusion.
sukuna ryomen was scared.
“brat. get up.” he murmurs, three simple words was all he said to you. three simple words but you could barely even hear them.
all you heard was a brief inaudible mumble. you saw his lips moving but barely any sound came out. your body felt crushed, the pain was excruciating. your limbs, they felt like they were on fire. getting up was the last thing on your mind and you’ve probably sone the most careless thing imaginable.
you took a hit for sukuna, a deadly hit that was powerful enough to cost you your life. it’s funny though—all the talk of seeing your life flash before your eyes, and now, being snatched into the inevitable end, you were starting to really see it.
“get up,” he repeats, and this time, a single tear falls right onto your cheek. you meet sukuna’s gaze. the king of curses was a mere mess right before your eyes. he was like this for just you. teary eyed and sniffling, he can’t stand this pain.
you’re being held in his lap and not once does his eyes leave yours. sukuna takes a while to speak again and it’s as if he’s carefully thinking of what to say. time was precious right now, but he didn’t wanna think about anything. his focus was solely on you, his favorite little human.
“can you hear me? say something.”
“you .. you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning too much, ‘kuna.” you hum, a weak finger stroking against his cheek.
archons, for whatever reason, that little comment brought a smile to his face. you were so annoying to him and yet, he wouldn’t wanna be in anyone else’s presence. everything hurt though,
your body felt scorchingly hot, your pulse remains to ring through your ears and you were wheezing a bit. “hey, hey,” he watches as you try to cling onto his hand. sukuna didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say - all he did do though, was hold you. it was the least thing he could do. your hand was so small compared to his, his long fingernails gently tickling against your skin.
he didn’t have it in him to scold you for trying to protect him. as fragile of a being you knew you were, you did it anyway. you risked your life for him. sukuna let his guard down and you jumped right in the way without a second thought for yourself. that’s what love was, his heart bleeds at the recent flashback before a shaky breath leaves his lips. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. you can’t leave me like this, please.”
“i’m not l- leaving.” you reply, your voice weak and frail. sukuna knew that was a lie. the more you stared at him, how the look of worry on his face paints and marinates his features, he was really scared. you were his everything, his breath of fresh air, maybe even his one true love. “never gonna leave you, sukuna.”
and sukuna lays there with you on his lap. you seem still - too still. right before his eyes, he watches as your body’s temp run cold, final breaths making its introduction. everything was going so fast. he barely had time to react before he realized,
you were gone.
“no,” he whispers under his breath. the demon was at a loss of words. the feeling in his chest, it was indescribable. painful, and tight as he watches the light leave your eyes, something within him leaves also. a part of him. you were drifting away and there was nothing he could do about it. “no.” he repeats against, feeling a dull ache run cold through his body. sukuna didn’t know what to do. he’s seeing red, but perhaps that wasn’t just bloodshed and anger. maybe, maybe it was the one true feeling he was denying all along,
love.
his breaths become heavy once he realizes you’re actually gone. no movement, no cheeky replies, no random “i love you ‘kuna’s,” no nothing. the tear in his heart was enough to make him see the light with you. it hurt horribly, a lump in his throat builds up before he starts to weep. one tear comes then multiple shortly follow, landing past the thin fabric of his sown kimono and onto your lifeless body.
sukuna hated you. he hated how you made him so soft, so vulnerable, so weak. you came into sukuna’s life, stole his heart, and also broke it.
as his eye twitches, his smile had already faded once you left him.
for the first time in centuries, sukuna was defeated. his enemy wasn’t a sorcerer, a curse, or even himself who he believed was his true worse enemy. sukuna ryomen was defeated by four simple letters, love. not only did you leave him in tears, but you also left him with an engagement ring inside his right palm.
he was far too late, he was gonna propose to you. that way, he’d build up the courage to say those stupid, stupid words. opening up his right hand, he stares at the ring he wanted to give you way earlier before this incident even happened. sukuna waited too long, he’d actually plan this for quite some time but again, he was scared.
with a defeated sigh, he surrenders, glancing at you for one last time. no smile on your face anymore but he just used his imagination. there you laid, peaceful, almost as if you were asleep. taking a deep breath, sukuna gives you his last gentle forehead flick before finally telling you the words he’s been longing to say for years.
“i … i love you too, brat. never leavin’ you either.”
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miserycanary · 8 months ago
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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next
pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you
tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence
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He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you. 
That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night. 
The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you  
What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind. 
Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.
You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not. 
“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you. 
“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you. 
Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest. 
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well. 
“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.
Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows. 
“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.
“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”
Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle. 
The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt. 
“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“
You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him. 
God, what has he done? 
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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sushiyuzu · 29 days ago
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sugar daddy
warning: fluff + tension — sugardaddy!sylus spoiling you with his black card 🤑 [ x fem!reader ]
- second acc: @blushpawss
“here,” sylus says, tossing something onto the table in front of you. you glance down, your eyes widening when you see it—the shiny black card, his personal, unlimited credit card.
“what… what’s this for?” you stammer, looking from the card to him, confused. sylus leans back in his chair, a small smirk playing on his lips, crimson eyes locking onto yours.
“for you to spend, of course,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal. “buy whatever you want.”
your jaw drops slightly, and you feel a mix of disbelief and excitement bubble up inside you. “sylus, are you serious?”
he raises an eyebrow, his silver hair catching the light as he gives you a teasing look. “do i look like i’m joking?”
you can’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “you’ve got to be kidding me… i can’t just spend ALL your money.”
sylus leans forward now, resting his elbows on his knees, and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “trust me, you couldn’t spend all of it if you tried.”
your eyes flick back to the black card, still in disbelief. “but… why?”
“because i like spoiling you,” he says, his tone softer now, almost serious. “and because i can.”
you bite your lip, suddenly feeling a little shy under his intense gaze. the thought of him giving you free rein with his money, his ridiculously large fortune, is overwhelming. but there’s also a part of you—a curious, excited part—that can’t help but wonder what it would be like to indulge.
“you really want me to?” you ask quietly, looking back at him, searching his expression for any sign of hesitation.
sylus tilts his head slightly, studying you with that same intensity that always makes your heart race. “of course i do. i want you to have whatever makes you happy.”
he stands up then, coming around the table until he’s standing behind you. his hands rest on your shoulders, fingers brushing your skin gently as he leans down to murmur in your ear, “go ahead, take the card. spend the day however you want. anything you see, it’s yours.”
a shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his breath against your ear, and before you know it, you’re reaching for the card, picking it up with slightly trembling fingers. sylus straightens up, satisfied, and moves back to his seat, watching you with a look of amusement.
“i… i don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your mind racing with possibilities. clothes, jewelry, shoes—you could buy anything. it’s almost too much to think about.
“start wherever you like,” sylus says smoothly. “i’ll have a car ready to take you wherever you want.”
you glance up at him, still feeling a little overwhelmed but also more excited than you’ve ever been. “you’re not coming with me?”
he shakes his head, smiling softly. “not this time. today is about you.”
and just like that, you’re whisked away in one of his sleek black cars, the driver patiently waiting as you step into the most expensive stores you’ve ever seen. the salespeople seem to know the moment you walk in, eyes widening at the sight of the black card in your hand. they practically trip over themselves to help you, showing you everything from designer clothes to luxury handbags, expensive jewelry, and shoes that cost more than you could have ever dreamed.
at first, it feels strange—almost surreal—to just point at things and have them brought to you. but as the day goes on, you start to get into the rhythm of it. you try on dresses made from the softest silk, shoes that make you feel like you’re walking on air. the jewelry sparkles under the store lights, and each time you say “i’ll take it,” the salespeople smile and hurry to wrap it up for you.
by the time the afternoon comes around, you’re carrying bags filled with everything you could want and more. sylus’s card never gets declined, no matter how much you spend, and you start to understand just how insane his wealth truly is.
it’s only when you step into the last store—a boutique that specializes in high-end lingerie—that you feel a small pang of nerves again. you’re not sure why, but there’s something about this particular place that feels different. more personal.
“is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” the saleswoman asks politely, her eyes flicking to the black card in your hand.
you hesitate for a second, then smile. “i’m just looking.”
but as you browse through the delicate lace and silk, your mind drifts back to sylus, to the way he looked at you earlier. you pick up a particularly beautiful red set, running your fingers over the soft material, and you wonder what he’d think if he saw you in it.
without even realizing it, you find yourself buying the set. as the saleswoman wraps it up for you, you can’t help but smile to yourself, imagining the look on sylus’s face when he sees it.
when you return to the house, your arms full of bags, sylus is waiting for you in the living room, lounging on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand. he glances up as you walk in, his crimson eyes lighting up with amusement.
“looks like you had fun,” he says, setting his glass down and standing up to greet you.
“you could say that,” you reply, laughing as you set the bags down one by one.
he walks over to you, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you in for a kiss. “did you get everything you wanted, sweetie?”
you nod, feeling a little giddy from the day. “more than i wanted.”
his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “good. because i want to see everything you bought. especially that little red number you picked up at the end.”
your face heats up, your heart skipping a beat as you realize he somehow knew about the lingerie. you look up at him, wide-eyed, and he grins, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.
“nothing gets past me,” he teases, his voice low and playful.
you can’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of his arms around you, the weight of the day’s indulgence sinking in. “you really spoil me, you know that?”
“i enjoy spoiling you,” sylus replies, his eyes darkening slightly as his lips find yours again. “and i’m not done yet.”
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notjustjavierpena · 8 months ago
Text
Swelter
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Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”
“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”
“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”
“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”
“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
“See?” Joel looks triumphant.
“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
“Sarah, I need—“
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”
“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”
You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”
“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”
“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”
“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”
“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”
“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”
“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”
“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”
“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”
It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”
This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”
“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”
“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.
“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”
“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.
“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”
“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”
“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”
“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”
“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”
“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”
“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”
“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”
He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.
“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“
“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.
“Wrong word,” he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”
“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.
“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”
“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”
“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”
“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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with-my-calamitous-love · 1 month ago
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LEAVE THE WARMEST BED I’VE EVER KNOWN
katsuki bakugou x reader
on a cold winter night, you gain news that your ex boyfriend and pro-hero dynamight has returned from a work trip out of the country. coincidentally, he’s calling your phone right now.
part 1/2
inspired by ‘tis the damn season
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everything you learned about katsuki while he was away was against your will.
following in all might’s footsteps, and right after one messy, icy breakup, katsuki left to do hero work in the united states. if you wanted to know who he was hanging with, what girls he was supposedly kissing, or who he was replacing you with, you could have asked. seeing his life in footnotes, on instagram stories and through headlines was the kind of cold that fogged up windshield glass.
theres a lingering ache in your heart, put there by the ache in katsuki’s.
your breakup felt inevitable, more than anything. circumstances, timing, stress… one second, he’s loving you. the next, he’s telling you he needs to think things through. and right after that, he’s on a plane to los angeles with kirishima.
it was almost nice, not having to see him at the agency or anywhere else. you wouldn’t be tempted to call his phone, since the international bill would only break your heart more. you couldn’t go to his apartment because it’d be empty- if you’re not counting the phantoms of lost love.
the 2 weeks he was gone felt like an eternity on your end. you blamed the time zones, though you knew they weren’t capable of freezing time and making your heart ache more each minute.
and with the first snowfall of the season, katsuki bakugou lands back in his home country.
he thanks the attendants in his private jet, shoving his already warm hand into his pockets as he steps out into the brisk air. its colder than he remembered, as if the world felt the same loneliness he was experiencing.
its 10pm, and the snow is glistening against the moonlight like a mirrorball. the sky is blanketed by clouds, a pink hue washing over katsuki as he steps out of the airport and into the night.
he stares at his contacts for a second. he intends on calling an uber.
but either his thumb slipped, or he missed you too much to care about the cold pricking his fingertips. each could be true.
you’re in the process of turning up your heater when your phone lights up through the dark. fingers peeking out the sleeve of your sweater grasp the device, nearly dropping it to the floor when you see who’s trying to reach you.
as if on instinct, your thumb hovers over the green button, before ultimately letting it go to voice mail.
after a hot shower to drown out the chill, you find him calling again. this time, you sit on the edge of your bed, finally resigning to pick up.
you don’t say anything first, wanting to hear him first. maybe you had to make sure this wasn’t some twisted dream.
“…hey babe.” katsuki says, his gruff voice lingering with a soreness in his throat that can only come from prolonged exposure to the cold. that, paired witb the familiar nickname despite the circumstances, makes you clutch your phone.
“hey, kats.” you say, shifting on your bed to get comfortable. after all, any emotional night with katsuki bakugo was destined to be long.
“when did you land?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. you hope he doesn’t hear the trepidation in your voice.
“an hour ago.” he says, stifling a sniffle like a child would. you almost laugh, knowing him too well. he wasn’t the kind of guy you could forget easily.
“i just needed to hear your voice.” he admits, more to himself than to you. crimson eyes watch the way the snowflakes fall to the ground, dancing around in the wind. he remembers how much you love snowflakes. how you’d always try to catch them on your tongue, and how stupid he thought it was. the things he’d give to go back to that.
the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice makes your eyes water. it was something about the cold that brought out the aches in people. like holidays that linger like bad perfume, you both could run from the hurt before getting lost in the snow. you escaped into your warm apartment, away from the world, while katsuki escaped into crowds of adoring fans away from home.
whats funny is that both of you remember how the other left.
the cold air pricks at katsuki’s fingers while he waits for a response. he almost thinks the connections gone out, when in truth, your holding back tears.
with a shaky sigh, you speak. “lets… call it even, then.” you whisper, but he’s captivated by your words like a firework show. “i wanted to hear you, too.”
the breath of relief katsuki lets out can be seen in the cold, night air.
there was about 100 thrown out letters you wished you could send him. you could vomit words onto paper, send them out into the winter air and let the wind deliver your confessions to him.
and honestly, he wants you to. more than anything, he wants to sleep in with you, pull the blankets over that shield you from the cold just for old time sake. and if you don’t want him to stay this time, then he won’t ask you to wait.
if this doesn’t work out, he’ll go back to LA. he’ll let his so called fans write books and stories about him, about his heroism and his nobility without knowing how much his heart hurts on the inside. they’ll wonder about the only soul who knows what that hurt feels like. the only soul who knows all the smiles he’s faking: you.
he hopes that he only breaks his own heart, wanting to spare you from it. if he could, he’d leave you the warmest bed you’ve ever known. he’d call you babe for the weekend, and love you warm against the winter chill.
if somewhere, in his heart, katsuki’s love for you despite the breakup remained the same, then it was the same for you, too. if its okay with you, its okay with him. you could call it even. you’re missing his smile, and you want him to hear you out.
you might have to, with what he’s about to say next.
“…i’m outside, babe.”
part 2 soon 🫧
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lisired · 9 months ago
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wish i never
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pairing: Jaehyun x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, debatable morals, unprotected sex, brother’s worst enemy, forbidden love, mark’s dad is a cop for the sake of plot, mentions of drugs and drug-related death
summary: Your brother, Johnny, hates Jaehyun and has never told you why. Although you intend on leaving it alone, unforeseen events thrust you into a forbidden love affair with Jaehyun. In between hookups and stolen kisses, you have to bury your feelings for Jaehyun around your overprotective older brother.
word count: 27.2k (listen… i don’t know anymore okay)
a/n: this one lowkey kinda hit different for me cause i’ve had a forbidden love and it broke me. you can kinda tell by how long this is lol ya girl went all OUT. as always, feedback is appreciated!
“Absolutely not.”
“Dude, come on,” Mark whined. 
“Hell the fuck no,” Yuta barked firmly, crossing his arms. “The last time we gave you shrooms, you texted Johnny to ask him where your phone was.”
“And?”
“You texted him from your own phone,” Yuta deadpanned. 
You snickered. Your best friend and drugs were an infamously egregious combination. Mark Lee sober was already full of shit, but Mark Lee high on whatever substance he could get his hands on? Indescribably bad. You couldn’t think of a word to even explain it.
Mark gestured over to you. “But you gave her drugs.”
Yuta grimaced. “First of all, don’t say that too loud. Johnny will kill me. Second of all, she can actually handle her shit and what can I say? She's a loyal customer.”
You added, “Plus I’m not doing fucking shrooms. Yuta just deals me weed. If Johnny ever found out I was doing anything else, he would have a fit.”
Mark huffed something under his breath about how shrooms were the softest of soft drugs there were, not that it would’ve helped his case. 
Your lips curled into a grin as you joked, “Why don’t you just chug Jeno’s notorious punch and call it a night? That’s what I’m gonna do.” 
“I’ve actually got plans with a chick who’s been dying to chug my notorious punch. I’ll be back later. Save me a drink, dude,” Mark said, grinning from ear to ear at a text message on his screen. Probably from the aforementioned chick that was begging to blow him, or so he said. 
You pretended to wince, but gave him a high five in celebration. “Aye, aye, captain,” you chirped, saluting him. 
After Mark made a break for the stairs, you abandoned Yuta to make a beeline for the drink bar. There was no such thing as a party with some of your boys without drugs and alcohol. Your brother was an overprotective nuisance, but even he knew it was impossible to keep you away from your shots and the occasional marijuana.
Plus it would've been hypocritical as all hell, so he let it slide. Not that you wanted to press your luck with something harder. On some nights you were a little drunk and a little high, and it brought out the worst in you. You were certain all of Johnny's friends kept blackmail worthy videos of you doing the unspeakable and you were content with never knowing what all those fuckers had on you. The embarrassment would be enough to kill.
You clocked one girl dry-heaving in the corner on the way and it was all the discouragement required to make you reach for a can of beer instead. To your surprise, it seemed like somebody had a similar plan, their hand coincidentally dropping on the same one. 
"Oh, I'm sorry. You can have it…," you trailed, glancing up to make eye contact with nobody less than the devil incarnate.
Ricky looked surprised to see you, though you weren’t sure why. If Jeno was throwing a party, you were bound to be in attendance. “What up, baby? Long time no see.”
“Ricky, you lost the right to call me that the second I caught you with your pants to your ankles in a closet with what's-her-face.”
More importantly, you were frankly surprised to see him there. Your stupid ex was many things, none good, and his audacity? It was out of control. Part of you wanted to commend him, because it took guts to show his face around your side of town after you yanked his trousers down in front of everyone and their mother. 
And yet he took that retort in stride. “Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m sorry? It was a mistake and I’ll never make it again.”
“You’re absolutely right,” you replied, bobbing your head in agreement. “You’re a sorry motherfucker and you’ll never make it again, because we’re done for good.”
But Ricky just couldn’t take the hint that you were so fucking over anything that had to do with him and crept closer, continuing darkly, “Don’t you know you’re nothing without me? Nothing!”
Having surrounded yourself with enough drunk and high people countless times, it was obvious that Ricky was under the influence, which made him extremely capricious. He looked a grand total of two seconds away from reaching out and seizing you by your arm. 
Your eyes darted across the room for anybody you knew, but it was difficult when dancing bodies obscured them from your field of view. Yuta had probably wandered to snag more drug deals, Mark was getting his dick wet, and Johnny and Taeyong were nowhere to be found. 
You were about to resign yourself to the fact that you were positively out of luck until you heard a deep baritone ask from beside you, “Do we have a problem over here?”
It took all of two seconds to recognize its owner. Jeong Jaehyun, sang the little chorus in your head. Your brother’s worst enemy. The beef seemed more than a little one-sided, but you didn’t ask questions. For whatever reason, the mere mention of Jaehyun’s name made your brother tense. 
It was clear that Ricky was sizing Jaehyun up and he snapped with potent venom, “Who the fuck are you?”
“The host’s cousin,” Jaehyun said, looking tall and foreboding, as if he was daring somebody to challenge him. “And you are?”
“The love of her life.”
You didn’t know how he could confidently lie like that, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he wholeheartedly believed it, which was downright terrifying. You learned the hard way that this boy was as self-centered as they came. 
Jaehyun took one look at you, and the glaringly obvious discomfort on your face, and replied, "Yeah, I don't think she wants to be around you. If I were you, I'd get the fuck out of here and never come back."
Ricky chuckled. "And if I don't?"
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Fuck around and find out," was all he said. His lips were drawn into a line and his gaze was fixed to your ex's idiotic face with a lethal stare. Not to mention Jaehyun had a couple of inches on him, which made you resist a satisfied little grin.
Obviously, Ricky wanted to stay and claim you as his pretty property, but even the lack of inhibitions didn’t hinder his judgment at that moment. Like any wise person would, he made a beeline for the closest exit. It was common sense that Jeno and his associates were not to be fucked with. 
Your shoulders relaxed when Ricky was gone. If anything, he had gotten off easy. He was lucky that you had no clue where Johnny was. You were positive he would’ve knocked the sense out of him, if he had any, which was debatable. 
“Insufferable prick,” you grumbled under your breath. Then, you glanced up to Jaehyun, who, to your surprise, was already looking at you. “Thanks, Jaehyun. I don’t know what he would’ve done if you weren’t here.”
Jaehyun still looked a little pissed, but your words seemed to make him soften. “You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s basic human decency.”
“And some people don’t even have that,” you replied, intending for it to be a joke, but it came out a little more melancholy. 
If Jaehyun noticed, he said nothing about it.
Before he could even if he wanted to, something stitched your brows together and you mentioned, “Hey, I didn’t know Jeno was your cousin.”
“Me, neither.”
It took a second for that to settle in, but once you finally understood, amusement broke the confusion tensing your face and your lips parted in laughter. Jaehyun joined you. His bold-faced little white lie saved your ass, but ironically, that wasn’t what you were focused on. 
It was those deep, adorable dimples on both of his cheeks that somehow made him even more handsome. 
Instantly, something in you chided, Bitch, don’t check him out. He’s your brother’s worst enemy. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think you’re getting laid tonight just because he’s playing nice.
“I should go,” you said after a minute, finally grabbing a beer. “Thanks again. I really appreciate it.”
You escaped before Jaehyun could tell you not to thank him. His eyes were fixed to your back, following you until you were obscured completely by partygoers. He knew you were Johnny’s sister, but damn, you were kinda cute. 
At least for now, Jaehyun wouldn’t play with fire. Johnny almost kicked his ass one time and he wasn’t exactly keen on getting his ass handed to him. 
You were half tempted to stop by Jeno’s room to check if any of the guys were passing a blunt around in there, but the last time your curiosity got the better of you, you accidentally walked in on Jeno shirtless with some half-naked girl. Not a sight you wanted to relive, so you kept downstairs. 
Your eyes scanned the living room for any familiar faces, but it was difficult to tell if anybody was there. There was a gigantic crowd dancing to Kiss Me Thru The Phone and you chuckled at a certain memory of Mark drunk-singing along to the lyrics. 
“There you are,” came a familiar voice beside you. Your gaze flitted to Johnny, whose face was stitched with concern. “Taeyong told me that he saw you with Jaehyun. You good?”
“I’m fine,” you hollered over the music. “Just heartbroken that Mark abandoned me to get laid.”
Any other time, Johnny would’ve laughed, but his lips were pressed into a solid line. “Have you had anything?”
You rolled your eyes and exhaled a breath. “Just the beer in my hand, Johnny.”
He studied your face, as if he was attempting to figure out whether or not you were telling the truth, but ultimately decided to believe you. “Listen, I just wanna look out for you. You’re my little sister. If anything were to happen to you...”
“Mom and Dad would kill you and dump your body in the woods for bears to find. Yes, I know,” you groaned exasperatedly, cutting him off. “I get it, Johnny. But I need you to get that I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“If you were a little girl, you wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t give you weed.”
That comment wasn’t even worth a roll of your eyes. You took a sip of beer and ignored it. 
“Why were you around Jaehyun anyways?” Johnny asked. It was obviously the question he was itching to ask. Probably wanted to make sure Jaehyun wasn’t making any advances. 
The memory of your bastard ex getting uncomfortably close to you after reaching for a drink he clearly didn’t need, raising his voice at you in a way no woman should ever accept, made you shudder. “Ricky decided to try and win me back. If you can even call it that.”
Johnny immediately perked up in anger. “What?”
“Relax. Jaehyun already took care of him. That’s why he was there. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I swear to god, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” Johnny hissed, looking a total of five seconds away from giving someone a piece of his mind. 
“Ricky, or Jaehyun?”
“Does it matter?”
You shrugged. Your lips parted to ask why he hated Jaehyun in the first place, but you cut yourself off. There was a reason why you didn’t ask him months ago. Johnny might’ve been overprotective, but that was because he was your brother and he loved you. When he was ready, he would tell you. 
The night dragged on. This one was a little more boring than usual, but that could’ve been chalked up to you still being shaken up about your encounter with your ex. You almost considered what would’ve happened had Jaehyun not been around to intervene, but your mind dared not wander there. 
Part of you wanted to know where he was camping out at. Surely, he had to be around here somewhere, but you weren’t going to look. Especially not with Johnny on high alert. He was being extra careful, wanting to be there in case your ex was crazy enough to return.
You listed what you knew about Jeong Jaehyun. For one, he was fine as hell. That was undeniable. Secondly, he was lowkey, which was why you essentially knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. 
Sure, he made an appearance at these parties every now and then, but most of the time he kept to a tight-knit circle of friends and if they weren’t there, there was no way in hell he was coming. Sometimes his roommates’ threw parties at their house, but he rarely went downstairs, preferring to linger in his room doing fuck knows what. 
You honestly couldn’t blame him. People sucked. Most of them, anyways. 
Only one day later, you were gripping an overlook, peering down at little critters splashing in the lake from the bridge above. For a long time, there was nobody there to join you other than your little nonhuman friends. You liked coming here every now and then to clear your head. It was your safe place, your happy place. 
The sky was cloudy but there was only a nine percent chance of rain this afternoon, thus you weren’t too worried. You needed to go somewhere. Home was too isolating, but everywhere else was too open. 
You could be happy here. There were no entitled assholes or overprotective brothers around to get on your nerves every five seconds. It was only you and the gifts of nature. 
And somebody else. 
“I thought that was you,” said somebody from your side. 
Imagine your shock when you turned and saw Jeong Jaehyun jogging towards you. In the fucking flesh. 
It was harder not to check him out this time. The man was practically drenched head to toe in sweat, his very exposed skin glistening with moisture. The shirt he was wearing hugged his chest and it was all you could do not to salivate. 
Rather than continue to rake your eyes up his frame, you asked playfully, “Are you stalking me, Jeong Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun’s eyes twinkled with mirth. God, how come you never noticed how pretty and brown they were? “Actually, I’m surprised. I was cutting through here instead of my usual jog route. The weather looked pretty bad.”
You snickered, crossing your arms. “You didn’t check the forecast before you left the house? It’s not gonna rain. Probably.”
Jaehyun furrowed a brow. “Probably?”
“That guy on the news is an infamous liar,” you grumbled under your breath. 
Jaehyun chuckled. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, coming closer to the railing where you were, but kept a safe distance between your bodies lest he made you uncomfortable. “I told you why I’m here. What about you?”
Your nose got an instant waft of Jaehyun’s scent and it was godly, which was shocking considering he was literally sweating everywhere. “Oh, you know. I come here from time to time to think, or to not think. Depending on what the situation calls for.”
“Really?”
You bobbed your head. “Yeah. Why?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “Nothing,” was what he said, but in reality, he was thinking about how he passed this bridge nearly every goddamn day and never knew if he took a detour, he’d potentially cross paths with a pretty little thing like you. 
You lifted a brow, but didn’t press. 
“Are you… okay?” Jaehyun reluctantly asked. 
You bobbed your head. “Yup, I’m alright. It’s just that Ricky approaching me has Johnny on edge, so now whenever I go out he and his friends are watching me like a bunch of hawks.” 
Jaehyun winced. “Damn. That must suck.”
“I get he’s doing it from a place of love, but fuck, sometimes I just wanna be left the hell alone, you know?”
Jaehyun nodded. God, did he know. And not only because he was an overwhelmingly introverted dude. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
That caught your attention. “You do?”
Jaehyun scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I don’t have an overprotective brother, but I do have an overprotective mother. It’s sweet and all, but do you know what it makes you look like when you’re on a date with a girl and your mom won’t stop calling you?”
Your lips couldn’t help but curl into a grin. “Aw, you’re a Momma’s boy.”
“This is exactly what I mean,” Jaehyun groaned. 
“No, it’s… cute,” you said, but it was impossible to control the giggles falling from your lips. “Most of the guys I know like that are sweethearts. Johnny, Mark. Maybe you.”
Jaehyun found that amusing. “You think I’m a sweetheart?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe. I don’t know you well enough to decide, but seemingly, sure.”
“Do you want to?”
“Do I want to what?”
“Know me better,” Jaehyun said, tentative. Almost as if he wasn’t sure what he wanted.
That was the million dollar question. On the one hand, Jaehyun was cute and it most likely wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time together, but on the other, there was the Johnny thing. You groaned. “God, Johnny would have a heart attack if he knew I was with you right now. Maybe even an aneurysm.”
Jaehyun snickered with mischief. “Who said that he has to know?”
That response downright shocked you. You weren’t expecting it from somebody like him, though then again, you knew virtually nothing about this boy and it only made you want to sate your curiosity. “Ooh. You’re trouble, Jeong Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun took that in stride. “I’m guessing you like that.”
Taking a step closer, you started to close the gap between you that Jaehyun had created for your sake. “Hm, you know what they say.”
“I don’t think I do.” 
“It’s always the quiet ones that deal the most damage,” you whispered sultrily, glancing into his gentle brown eyes. 
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. That caught him off-guard.
Then, you backed away and waved him goodbye. “I’ve gotta go. Later, Dimples.”
Dimples? That was new. Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised by the nickname and he was so stunned that it distracted him from his train of thoughts. 
It was only when you were long gone that he realized that you never answered his question. 
You needed time to think, to decide if Jaehyun was worth potentially losing your brother’s trust. You didn’t know why he hated him, but his less than enthusiastic reactions to him said more than enough. Jaehyun was cute, but you could easily find another cute guy whose bones your brother didn’t mention crushing.
But damn, you were curious. And curiosity killed the cat. You knew one thing, though. You were starting to like Jeong Jaehyun. 
You shook your head, ashamed of yourself. This is really what’s it’s come to, huh?
Jaehyun thought about that exchange on the bridge every now and then for the next couple of days and chastised himself for even making moves on you of all people. She’s his baby sister, you asshole. She’s off-limits. 
Not that it would really stop him, if you let him have you. 
It wasn’t like Johnny had to know. Jaehyun could keep a secret and he assumed that you had a handful of your own. People with strict upbringings tended to have a lot of practice with being sneaky and your situation was close enough. 
He sat on his bed and heaved a breath, playing with a lighter. 
Meanwhile, you were with your boys, listening to them chatter about disgusting boy things but lowkey too curious to abandon your spot on the sofa that was too comfortable for its own good. Nobody liked sleeping on sofas, but you swore you wouldn’t mind on this one. Plus sometimes you’d gotten drunk here enough where you almost dozed off. 
You made a gagging noise when Mark started to talk about his nth blowjob of the week. You weren’t counting, but he definitely was. 
“Your dick probably has so much chlamydia that it’ll mutate into a different variant like Covid,” Haechan teased. 
You grimaced, but you definitely agreed. 
“You’re one to talk,” Mark snapped. 
Haechan nodded, grinning proudly. “Of course, I am. I always wear condoms and get tested regularly. I’m clean as a whistle.”
You shook your head in amusement. “I’ve never understood the saying ‘clean as a whistle.’ Like aren’t whistles actually contaminated from being in someone’s mouth? Now, when you combine that logic with your dick…”
Jeno burst into laughter. Yuta obviously found it funny from the smile on his face and Mark would never miss a chance to laugh at his friend’s expense. 
Haechan dramatically rolled his eyes. “And what about you, little miss? How often do you get laid?”
“Definitely not as often as you guys,” you replied, coming to a stand. Not that you wanted to kiss the sofa goodbye. “I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta tinkle.”
Mark’s nose wrinkled. “You didn’t think that was too much information?”
You almost threw the remote at your best friend, but spared him. There was no way this dude was talking about too much information when he was literally giving you all a play-by-play of his sex life. 
“If it burns when you pee, Mark gave you the airborne strand of chlamydia,” Yuta joked dryly. 
You left too quickly to see Mark attempt to murder Yuta and it was a shame that you had to miss it. There was no doubt that Haechan would exaggerate the moment to make you regret not being there, but right now, you were concentrated on finding the bathroom. 
And of course, it was when you finally made it upstairs through the groups of bodies that you realized you didn’t know where it was. 
You groaned, cursing yourself for being so forgetful. You’d only been here a couple of times and never long enough to use the fucking bathroom, apparently. And you really couldn’t fucking hold it. 
You glanced around the set of doors upstairs, incapable of keeping still. Thank god nobody was here except for you. If I was a bathroom, which door would I be behind?
You set eyes on a random door and said, “Fuck it.” You marched right up to it and knocked none too gently, seeping with impatience. 
To your surprise, it was Jaehyun that opened the door, a pair of headphones slung around his neck. And behind him was a bed, not a toilet. 
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered with shock and he said your name. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, um, I was kinda looking for the bathroom. I’m guessing this isn’t it,” you said with a little humor, which was remarkable, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, baby.”
“Oh.” You knew that, so the fact that it slipped your mind meant that you definitely weren’t yourself when you had to pee. 
Jaehyun had the audacity to laugh. He opened his door a little wider. “You can use mine. It’s that door over there.”
“Thank you,” you said in relief, immediately darting for the bathroom. 
You were even more relieved by the time you washed your hands and walked back into his bedroom, no longer fighting to keep still. Jaehyun was sitting on his bed where his headphones were now cast aside. God, how loud did you have to be knocking for him to hear you over those?
“You sure were in a hurry,” Jaehyun teased. 
You rolled your eyes, but a little laugh fell from your lips. You wholeheartedly blamed Jeno and his damn poisonous drinks. Sighing in relief, you glanced around Jaehyun’s room. For a boy, he was exceptionally tidy. He had vinyls organized on a shelf. “No girls in here, I see.”
Jaehyun didn’t know whether to be offended by that or not. “What do you think I am, a pimp?”
You snickered. “Nah. I’m just traumatized. Sue me.”
Jaehyun knew better than to ask questions that he didn’t want to know the answers to, so he left it alone. “You never answered my question the other day.”
“What question?” you asked. Obviously, you were playing dumb. You needed every second to think about what your response would be, although you’d had the past forty-eight hours and then some to contemplate. 
Your damn brother was the only thing that stood between you and Jaehyun. 
Johnny wasn’t around this time for obvious reasons. There was no way in hell that he’d step foot in the house of his mortal enemy. He didn’t want you to be there either, but you assured him that you’d steer clear of all things Jeong Jaehyun. 
And it wasn’t as if you had deliberately lied. It (kind of) wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know where the bathroom was. 
“If you wanted to get to know me better.”
You stepped over to his bed, sitting beside him and sighing. “Jaehyun, you know my brother won’t approve.”
“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then,” Jaehyun muttered. 
Your eyes glanced at his handsome face, then his beautiful, twinkling brown eyes, and finally his soft pink lips. And when they flitted so low, there was no looking back. You leaned in and pressed your lips to Jaehyun’s, waiting for him to kiss back, and when he did without hesitation your heart soared. 
His hands flew to your back, eyes fluttering closed. God, he tasted as good as he smelled, and it was more than a little arousing. You made him fall against his mattress, straddling his hips and kissing him even deeper.
The change was welcome. His heart was racing just from locking lips with you and it took him to the sky. He grabbed a hold of your hips, which fit snugly in his palms, and listened to the soft sighs that slipped from your mouth in between the kisses. 
Mark was probably downstairs wondering, Damn, bitch, how long does it take to piss?
You pulled back when a certain groan of his turned you on a little too much to be safe. Jaehyun was secretly disappointed, but he didn’t complain, taking time to catch his breath. “Is that a maybe?”
You giggled and shook your head. “It’s a yes.”
Jaehyun sat up and grinned. He knew what he was getting himself into, but he didn’t care. There was something about you that made him defy gravity. 
Still straddling his hips, you threaded your fingers through his hair and leaned in to whisper into his ears, “We’re playing with fire.”
“Ironically, I thought the same thing,” Jaehyun deadpanned. 
You chuckled. Well, if you didn’t care, and he didn’t care, nothing more needed to be said. You were really doing this. 
Jaehyun realized that he already really liked holding you. You were warm and soft to the touch, and you fit perfectly in his arms. “Have you been drinking?”
“Nope.”
“Did you do any drugs?”
“Not even a little,” you said, raising a brow at the question. Much to your chagrin, it reminded you of your brother’s incessant worry. “Why?”
Jaehyun said without hesitation, “Because I’ve got weed.”
That was exciting. No wonder Jaehyun never came downstairs during his roommates’ parties. The real party was in his bedroom. “Geez, Dimples. What are you waiting for?”
Jaehyun laughed at your enthusiasm and grabbed his lighter off his nightstand. You were flattered when he let you roll and even more when he praised your technique, which took years to develop. Thank god for your experienced friends. 
The high had you hyper aware of everything. Jaehyun’s whole room smelled like him, to no surprise. As he said, he lived there, fuck’s sake. But it was pleasant and you were honestly forgetting that you even promised to return downstairs.
The guilt and pressure of keeping secrets from Johnny was heavy on your back a few moments ago, but after the marijuana settled in, you relaxed into Jaehyun’s side. He didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was the tree getting to his brain, but his hands got a little bolder, too. 
And it also only enhanced your curiosity. “Do you do this often, Jaehyun?”
“You mean invite girls into my room to talk and smoke?”
“Yeah.”
Jaehyun took a drag and exhaled into the thick air of his room. “Eh, not really. I’ve had girls in my room before, obviously, but it never really lasts.”
You weren’t surprised. Any girl could see that Jaehyun was handsome as all fucking hell and you didn’t expect him to be a total sexless loser. Matter of fact, if he told you that he was a virgin, you doubted that you’d even believe it. 
“Maybe you haven’t met the right girl then,” you suggested coyly. 
Jaehyun chuckled. “Maybe.”
It was way too soon to ask if he thought you were the right girl, so instead you settled for asking where his interests lay. “What exactly are you looking for?”
Jaehyun knew the answer to that question in perfect detail because he’d thought about it countless times, being his typical hopeless romantic self. This was a boy that dreamed of finding his miss right before he went to bed. He was a simple guy. He wanted picket fences and kids. Perhaps a puppy. 
But maybe it wasn’t all too simple. Jaehyun wasn’t searching for a housewife. He wanted someone to go to random old shops with and look at vintage items together. He wanted someone that didn’t draw a lot of attention, but liked to go outside and explore. Money be damned. Thanks to his mother, he had ample cash, but no one to spend it on. 
Jaehyun hummed, pretending to think about his answer. “Guess.”
You threw him a look. “Are you serious?”
Jaehyun bobbed his head eagerly, lips curling into a mischievous little grin. “I’ll tell you, but I want you to guess first.” 
You sighed and glanced around his bedroom for clues, and fortunately enough, there were plenty. “Vinyls from the nineties. You’re an old soul and you want someone who fits your vibe. You smell like expensive cologne, so maybe you want someone to wine and dine, but you definitely want to be comfortable.”
Jaehyun said nothing, but you could tell that he was listening. 
You looked at the pictures of him and an older woman framed on his nightstand and continued, “You want the type of girl you can take home to your mother. And your mother wants the absolute best for her son, so she raised you to have high standards.”
“You’re good at this,” Jaehyun muttered. 
“I’m nowhere close to being finished,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “Judging from the souvenirs on your shelf, you like going to different places, so you want someone curious and adventurous in nature. Appreciative and respectful of different peoples' cultures.”
Jaehyun was only smiling at this point. It was kind of funny and spooky being read like this. 
“You’ve searched for love and haven’t found something that feels right, so now you keep girls around for a good time, not a long one. And you love a damsel in distress, I think,” you said, concluding your investigation. 
“Wow,” was all Jaehyun said. 
Though you already knew the answer, you pressed your lips into a smile and asked, “Am I warm?”
“You’re on fire,” he replied, wondering how in the hell you got all that just from looking at his bedroom. “But how did you know?”
“That you love a damsel in distress?”
“That I’ve looked for love and gave up on it.”
You almost rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe he was seriously asking that question. “No offense, but you scream hopeless romantic. Plus you’re hot. You know your worth and what you want and I doubt it’s meaningless sex.”
Jaehyun had this melancholy look on his face for the briefest of seconds, but it disappeared so quickly you could’ve imagined it being there. 
“I don’t think you gave up, I think you took a little pause. You know she’s out there, and when the time’s right, you’ll know.” Then, you abandoned the sadness and quipped, “But you’re also a guy, and guys want sex.”
Jaehyun chuckled, but you had somehow penetrated his mind. You had part of him figured out and he didn’t know what to do with that. It was too soon to get too deep. 
You exhaled contentedly, but the marijuana had you thinking. You could’ve been wrong about Jaehyun. You had definitely been wrong before. 
There was this tension in the room now that neither of you were equipped to handle. As standard when he was fooling around with a girl, there was a piece of him that wondered if it could be the real thing this time, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. 
It wouldn’t have been the first time. 
Jaehyun gave you back the blunt. “What about you - what are you looking for?”
“Who said I was looking?” you asked with obvious amusement. 
That shattered Jaehyun’s former thoughts of possibly wifing you up one day. Of course you didn’t intend on dating the dude your brother hated. It would’ve been a very unconventional relationship. You could keep him around for fun, but it would have to end sooner or later. 
So Jaehyun contentedly resigned himself to the fact that you would pass, just like all the other girls he brought up to his room, and decided he was fine with that. Maybe he had high standards, but you’d forgotten to mention the part that they came with moderate hopes and low expectations.
That way getting hurt was borderline impossible. 
Then, Jaehyun started to grin like an idiot and reminded, “You said that you think I’m hot.”
“I literally said that ten hundred hours ago,” you groaned, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. 
You cried out in shock when he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto him again, but instinctively leaned into his shoulder. Jaehyun was (usually) humble, but anyone who thought he didn’t know he was hot was a fool. “Am I hot enough to kiss?”
Your lips tugged into a smile, and rather than directly answer his question, you went in for a kiss, holding the blunt away from his face so that he wouldn’t get burned. Jaehyun effortlessly matched your rhythm and it was dumbfounding how he could be so excellent of a kisser. 
You spent the better half of the night passing a blunt back and forth with Jaehyun, kissing and talking in between (featuring some inappropriate touches). Jaehyun was so fucking easy to talk to, the topics were boundless. Neither of you opened up much outside of your relationship goals and lack thereof, but you still got to know each other a little better. 
Jaehyun loved music from r&b to jazz to soul, though you could’ve guessed how passionate he was after one look at his vinyl collection. He was flirty sometimes, but soft-spoken and very gentleman-like and he never once proposed for the two of you to have sex. Plus he was a bit of a goofball. 
To say nothing of the fact that he could play the guitar. You didn’t know why, but that somehow made him even more delightful. 
It was pleasant to be in the presence of a guy that was simultaneously attractive and respectful.
Because it was far too late for you to drive yourself home when you finally started to get sleepy, he let you steal his bed and slept in the room of one of his roommate’s that was never home, according to Jaehyun. 
Jungkook was what he said his name was. Apparently he basically lived full-time in his girlfriend’s apartment and Jaehyun didn’t know why he still paid rent, but he didn’t complain. It was going to be a sad day for his bank account when Jungkook finally moved out. 
And that left Yugyeom. He was the one that threw all of the parties. You asked Jaehyun last night why he rarely came downstairs during those parties and his response was, “I don’t like the attention.”
Morning had come loudly as ever. Birds chirped outside, singing sweetly. You stretched your arms above your head and yawned, unable to ignore the dark curtains that effectively kept the sunlight out. 
The first thing you did was let a little light in. And the second thing was remember how you spent last night, memories of marijuana and laughter, and flirtatious behavior hitting you all at once. It seemed that Jeong Jaehyun was a promise of fun. 
Grabbing your phone, you headed down the stairs and breathed a little in relief when you saw Jaehyun already awake, waiting by the toaster. “Good morning, Dimples.”
Jaehyun turned when he heard your voice and the smile that spread across his lips was instantaneous. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”
“I should’ve known that your bed would be as cool and collected as you are,” you quipped, rubbing your arms. It was colder without Jaehyun’s blankets to help strengthen the temperature. 
Jaehyun shook with mirth and it was a sight you wanted to see more often. 
“I could’ve slept on the sofa,” you said without complaint. “The party was over by the time we called it a night and it’s the most comfortable sofa I’ve ever put my butt on.”
“It goes against everything I believe in to let you sleep on a couch when there’s a perfectly functional bed upstairs.”
“Aw, what a gentleman,” you replied, coming to stand at his side. “I drew the curtains in your room open, by the way. I don’t know how you live like a damn vampire.”
“What’s wrong with living like a vampire? Vampires are cool.”
“I don’t think Vampires need Vitamin D. Humans do,” you retorted, arms crossed. 
Jaehyun’s lips curved into a stupid little smile that reeked of mischief and you instantly knew where his thoughts were before he even said anything. 
You rolled your eyes at his silliness and told him, “Whatever you’re about to say - don’t.”
Bagels popped out of the toaster and the sight of food made Jaehyun forget about his previous shenanigans. He set both bagels on individual plates that already had food and said, “I made you something. It’s not much because I’ve gotta go soon, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.”
“Thank you,” you said with gratitude, accepting the plate he handed to you. Plate in hand, you went to sit at the table, watching Jaehyun bring cups over. 
“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun told you gently. “Next time I’ll make you a real full-course meal as a treat.”
You gawked. “You can cook?”
“A little bit, yeah. Why?”
“You just got so much hotter,” you breathed.
Jaehyun grinned. 
The time you spent together that morning was a duplicate of the night before except there were only the lingering overnight highs instead of the fresh ones. You were sad that you had to leave, but Jaehyun had to work and you needed to go home. 
Sitting in your car, you checked your phone for the first time in hours. There had to be a thousand missed calls and unanswered messages from your friends and Johnny. Though it wasn’t unusual for your phone to be on Do Not Disturb, it was definitely strange to not at least tell your loved ones that you were very much still alive. 
You were just so hooked on Jaehyun that it completely slipped your mind to check your phone. There wasn’t a dull moment upstairs in his bedroom and even when it was silent you were comforted by the sound of a vinyl playing quietly on his record player, which you were stunned that he even had. 
You texted your friends to let them know that you were on the way home and called Johnny to get his usual tantrum out of the way before you got there, but it was safe to say that you weren’t expecting to come back to Johnny and Mark waiting for you in the kitchen like two unhappy parents. 
You reached into the cabinet to grab a glass and deadpanned, “Uh oh. Am I in trouble?”
Mark snickered and he looked like mischief. “Very much so.”
Your gaze flitted towards Johnny, who was clearly the more disgruntled of the two, and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You look like you had a long night.”
“That’s probably because I did.”
“Did you hook up with anyone?”
You grimaced. “Gross, Johnny. Do I ask you who and what you do with your dick?”
Johnny gave you a look that told you he was serious. 
“No, I didn’t hook up,” you replied, filling your glass with water and hoping to find a way out of this situation so that you could shower and brush your teeth. 
Johnny’s lips were tugged into a frown. This older brother responsibility was far from easy when his little sister made it even harder to check up on her. “I worry about you. Is that a crime?” 
You exhaled a long breath. “You’re right. I should have at least let you know that I was okay and I didn’t, and I’m sorry. I just got… distracted.”
That got Mark’s attention and he butted in dramatically, “Where did you go last night? I was this close to filing a police report, but it hadn’t been twenty-four hours.”
Typical cop father response. That was half the reason why nobody wanted to deal him drugs. Thank goodness he had you to vouch for him. “And what would you do if I was off with a serial killer instead of some hot guy?”
“I wouldn’t be too worried. You’re annoying. They would return you on the front doorstep with a note that said ‘come get your bitch back.’”
You were tempted to roll your eyes, but you noticed Johnny laugh a little and it honestly made you feel somewhat better. He had been painfully uptight lately and you just wanted him to chill for once. 
“I’m gonna go take a shower and brush my teeth,” you announced, discarding your glass in the sink and heading for the stairs. 
Of course, Mark had more insults on deck and didn’t hesitate to add, “You’re gonna need more than that for all the cum you had to have gargled last night.”
“For the last time, I did not hook up,” you huffed in exasperation, marching up the stairs. “And get the hell out of my house - you don’t even live here!”
You could hear Mark laughing from the overlook. 
A lot of time was spent counting down the hours until you could see Jeong Jaehyun again. You learned that he was not the type of guy to sit around waiting by his phone. This was a busy man with business to take care of and he didn’t have a lot of spare time. 
You didn’t mind, because he spent it talking to you, which was definitely an indicator that he was starting to really like you. With so few hours in a week, let alone a day, it was hard to believe he let just anyone consume the little downtime that remained. 
Jaehyun let you crash some nights at his place when your brother was being a massive thorn in your side. It wasn’t a crime, but it was easy to get away with, all things considered. Yugyeom never bothered either of you and Jungkook was rarely there, so you spent most of the time talking incessantly and getting high. 
Maybe some kisses were shared in between, but nothing more. Jaehyun was content with just getting to know you for now. His usual invitees consisted of one-night stands and girls he hung out with for a couple of weeks, but you were different. You made him think, high or not, and it was rare a girl penetrated his mind so deeply.
And so quickly. It had only been a month, maybe a little longer. He was still afraid of being completely open with you, but the way the two of you touched each other was starting to get riskier and riskier. 
Kisses lasted longer. More than once, he caught himself going after your clothes, but he didn’t want to seem like an animal. You did seem a little eager too, kissing the breath out of him and getting more and more flirtatious, but Jaehyun hated having to guess. 
He wanted you to tell him what you wanted in no uncertain terms. No room for uncertainty. 
Yugyeom knocked on Jaehyun’s bedroom door, which was already cracked ajar, and asked, “Hey, is she coming over tonight?”
“Yes, so please be on your best behavior. No bullshit,” Jaehyun replied, getting a whiff of the trouble that was Yugyeom and wrinkling his nose. 
“Have you guys… you know?”
“That’s a personal question.”
“So you haven’t.” Yugyeom pressed, “Man, when are you gonna tell her you’ve got the hots for her? You know what, I’ll clear the house and leave a bottle of wine out. Light one of your expensive candles. Girls like that shit.”
Like hell Jaehyun needed advice on how to set the mood, from Yugyeom much less. Plus he was none too pleased at being interrupted, especially because now he was thinking about having sex with you and it was doing things to him down there. “I think I know what girls like.”
“Then what’s the problem? And don’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it. We’re both dudes, man. That’s bullshit.”
“There isn’t one,” Jaehyun replied to his roommate honestly. Of course, he had thought about having sex with you. He might’ve been respectful, but like Yugyeom said, he was still a dude. Hell, the words had come out of your own mouth. 
Yugyeom prodded, “Then?”
“I just don’t wanna rush into it.”
Now that Yugyeom could buy. Jaehyun was sentimental like that. When he really liked a girl, evaluating her worth took priority over getting laid. Jaehyun had this wall of ice put up that even Yugyeom had to steadily break through. Ironically, sometimes it felt like he was still on the outside. 
But he put two and two together. If Jaehyun liked you - as in really, really liked you - then that made shit even more complicated. It was no secret that Johnny had it out for Jaehyun and he obviously came to the same conclusion that Jaehyun had; shit getting serious with you was dangerous. 
So Yugyeom left it alone. 
Like clockwork, you were pulling into Jaehyun’s driveway only a few hours later. You discerned that the lot was empty save for your car and Jaehyun’s which more than likely implied that the two of you would be completely alone in the house together. 
Slipping the spare key from under the mat, you unlocked the door and sang after locking it behind yourself, “Darling, I’m home!”
“I’m upstairs,” Jaehyun called out from the second floor, his room door obviously open for once. The benefits of having the house to himself. 
You didn’t hesitate to make your way upstairs, not failing to clock the bottle of expensive wine on the counter when you passed by the kitchen, but you thought little of it when you came through the hallway and slipped into Jaehyun’s comfortable bedroom. “Hey, Dimples,” you greeted. 
Jaehyun smiled at you and waved. His room was dimly lit. The overhead lights were turned off, but the candles on his nightstand were ablaze and there was an old school classic going on in the background. 
The second you came in, Jaehyun set his book aside, giving you his undivided attention. “Come here.”
You wasted no time doing as told, advancing towards the bed and giggling when he snatched you into his open arms for a handful of kisses. Your whole body was soothed from his slightest of touches, at ease in his arms. Jaehyun had quickly become your second safe place. 
God, you had been waiting for this moment all week. Johnny wasn’t on your ass any more than usual, but it got lonely in that house and it was even worse when you found yourself only craving Jaehyun’s company. There was something happening to you and you couldn’t tell if you liked it or not. 
Jaehyun drew back after a minute, taking a moment to breathe and brush a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “Things okay at home?”
“New topic,” you groaned. 
Jaehyun winced. That couldn’t have been too good. 
“You smell good,” you purred, breathing in his scent. 
“You always say that.”
“Because you always smell good.” 
“I just got out of the shower.”
“Without me?”
“You sound like a guy,” Jaehyun said in disapproval. 
You snickered. You had definitely gotten that comment from a boy before.
Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed to your face, taking in how beautiful you were. Damn, it was like every time he saw you, you looked even more breathtaking. 
You couldn’t help but stare back. Jaehyun’s visuals were out of this damn universe and it was borderline maddening he could be this fucking fine. But deeper than that, sometimes you couldn’t help but stare into his dark eyes and wonder what all he was hiding back there. 
It was plain as day that Jaehyun wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, especially not when his romantic feelings were involved. In the time that you’d spent together, you had gotten to learn some things about him, but there was plenty that he filtered out as a defense mechanism. 
When you wanted to get closer, Jaehyun shut down, which was totally ironic, because he was the one that asked if you wanted to get to know him. Now you had to fight for it?
Maybe he meant get to know his body and you were oblivious - and you wouldn’t have minded one bit - but if that was the case, you should’ve already had sex and been out of the picture. Yet he was keeping you twice as long as most girls lasted and for no apparent reason.
Sex made things more complicated. If you had sex with Jaehyun right now, and it was good, there was absolutely no telling how that would shift the trajectory of your entire life. But the way he was looking at you right now tempted you to risk it all. 
Your lips found Jaehyun’s again, but the kiss was different this time. It was needier, desperate. It sent heat stretching through every bone in your body and straight between your thighs, and you felt like you were levitating. Your body scorched with desire, hands running down his chest. 
Jaehyun kept up with your reckless kissing very well, but he couldn’t ignore the nature of it and it made him ask himself questions. You were kissing him like you wanted him. Tired of wondering, he pulled back and asked forthrightly, “Do you want to have sex with me?” 
“Isn’t it obvious?” you countered, quickly seizing the opportunity to return your lips to his.
All of this beating around the bush was getting on his nerves and Jaehyun took matters into his own hands. Literally. You gasped when he pushed you onto your back, pinning you onto his bed, and locked your wrists above your head. “I want to hear you say it.”
Now that was sexy as hell and your thighs involuntarily pressed together. “I want to have sex with you.”
That was all Jaehyun needed to hear. He was quick to catch your lip in between his teeth and seal your lips in another heated kiss, taking in your every trembling exhale. You moaned into his mouth, a little too enamored with how good it felt beneath him. 
His hands released your wrists in favor of your waist, testing the waters. You were reactive to Jaehyun’s touches, hyper aware of his hands steadily falling lower, but not daring to touch you too intimately yet. Like he was waiting for something to happen. 
Jaehyun’s eyes sank to your empty neck and something deep in the pit of his gut was set on fire. “Are marks okay?”
Making quick work of his shirt and tossing it over his shoulders, you nodded your head. “Yeah. Johnny will notice, but he’ll never assume they’re from you.” 
It took absolutely nothing else for Jaehyun to connect his lips to your throat hungrily, leaving mark after mark on your skin in an effort to stake his claim to you. And all it did was turn you on further. There was a thudding between your legs, arousal spilling over. 
Little soft sighs and curses slipped from your lips and you could feel the bedroom get hotter and hotter. It wasn’t as if you and Jaehyun had agreed to be exclusive, but you hadn’t been with anyone else in the time that the two of you had been hanging out, meaning it had been over a month since you’d last had sex. 
And it fucking showed. You were aching for more, on top of your natural desire for Jaehyun. If you didn’t fuck his brains out right now you were going to self-destruct.
“Jaehyun, fuck me,” you groaned impatiently. 
Instead, he grinned, too fond of the neediness in your voice and on your pretty face. Jaehyun looked you plain in the eye and said, “I want you to beg.”
You were too gone to roll your eyes, but not too out of it to retort, “Make me.”
“I’m gonna make you beg, alright,” Jaehyun said without question. He made a move for your shorts and tugged them off your ankles, repeating the gesture with your panties. 
The only thing that kept you from being totally naked was your top but Jaehyun didn’t look too concerned with getting rid of it yet. Instead, he focused his undivided attention between your legs, entranced by your glistening core and his mouth going dry with the desire to have a taste. 
You watched the enthrallment on his face with satisfaction. Funny how his ability to conceal his emotions went out the window when pussy was involved. His eyes were dark as ever and Jaehyun’s voice somehow got deeper when he asked, “Will you let me taste you?” 
“Fuck,” you mumbled, sensing that he was about to wreck the living hell out of you. “Uh, yeah. Yes.”
No room for uncertainty. Now that he had your consent, Jaehyun gathered your legs in his hands, tossed them over his broad shoulders, and went to town. You gasped aloud at the first pass of his tongue at your clit and it couldn’t have been further from tentative. 
Of course this man went straight for your sensitive bundle of nerves instead of your slick folds, he knew better. Given how exciting the thought of Jaehyun dicking you down had been, you were already throbbing, but now you were tense and unstill.
There was something about the feeling of his lips sucking and licking at your cunt that made you squirm and cry out in an overwhelming bolt of pleasure. Jaehyun clamped his big hands onto your thighs to keep you pliant, holding them right where he wanted them, and kept eating you out. 
It made zero sense how hot you found every little thing that he did. 
“Jesus, fuck,” was basically all that you could say. With how vigorously Jaehyun was sucking at your bundle of nerves, it was getting borderline impossible to think. 
Jaehyun sure didn’t seem timid. Matter of fact, the way he refused to shy away from in between your pair of legs, doing everything in his power to keep them separated at both sides of his head, said loud and clear that he was a man on a mission to make you unravel. 
Not to mention that he was doing a damn good job. Your ears were hardly even working, the whole world fading to static, the only audible sound being the incessant throb of your pulse quickening by the minute. 
The sheer opposite was true for Jaehyun. His ears were on full alert and he could hear everything from the increasing volume and speed of your breaths plus your soft moans to the gentle rustling of the trees' leaves outside his open window. 
Jaehyun peered up at you, noticed the euphoria tensing your beautiful features, and his lips broke into a wide grin. “How are you doing up there?”
No words would come. It took twice as long to even process the ones that left his mouth. Your eyes were drooping and misty, damp with moisture, and all that escaped you was a befuddled, “Fuck.”
Jaehyun snickered. That was answer enough. “It sounds to me like you’re having a fun time,” he started. “Do you want to cum?”
You obviously heard that and hissed, “Don’t ask stupid questions.” 
“If you want to cum, then beg me for it,” Jaehyun growled darkly. You appreciated the brief lull of peace, but of fucking course, it was that moment Jaehyun chose to press a long pair of fingers into your dripping pussy.
Your back arched and your soft cries filled the air. It felt like somebody had given Jaehyun the blueprints to your body with how he excelled at satisfying you in ways literally nobody had previously. 
The answer was obvious. Jaehyun wanted you to beg? Fuck it. You would beg. 
“Please,” you said, your voice raising a few pitches. “Oh, god. Please make me cum, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun didn’t make a sound but you could feel his mouth on your cunt again and knew that he was about to take you there.  
And then it came. The mind-numbing orgasm engulfed you in its fury and you were scarred with burns from head to toe, most of it pivoting towards your core. 
Your hands desperately grasped locks of Jaehyun’s soft fluffy hair in an attempt to anchor yourself and you didn’t release him from your clutches until every tremble faded. Jaehyun got so aroused watching you shudder with release that he swore his own mind went blank. 
It took a good minute and a half at the least for your mind to start to clear itself and you sighed pleasantly as the wrath of your orgasm slowly began to die out. You peered down at Jaehyun, blinking a couple of times, and slackened your grip when you realized how tightly your hands were latched to him.
Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind, contentedly watching you try to gather your bearings. “Are you back to earth?”
“Barely,” you rasped, still unable to feel your thighs. 
“Do you want to stop?”
You gawked. “Are you kidding? I still wanna fuck you. If you still wanna fuck me.”
“I still want to fuck you,” Jaehyun said, pulling you in for another hot but reassuring kiss. It was hard to breathe, but so worth it. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and tasted yourself on his. 
Kissing you made Jaehyun feel like he was ascending, but right now it also made his dick ascend and his patience was steadily dissipating into thin air. You could feel his hard-on against your naked thigh and it sent shock waves to your brain. 
I think that’s the best head I’ve ever had, you admitted to yourself, but not aloud. Your dating history wasn’t top secret but you spoke little of it to Jaehyun. Did it matter that all of your exes were scumbags and rarely bothered to get you off?
Except for one. The sex was good, but it wasn’t a fair trade-off for your heart. No man nor his cock was worth your sanity and you told that to yourself every time you engaged with one. 
Plus you just got this weird feeling where nothing or nobody else mattered when you and Jaehyun were alone together. You didn’t think of the various roots of the stresses in your life and calmness was finally an option. 
You didn’t want to ruin that, so you didn’t get too deep. 
But you were hoping Jaehyun was packing enough to be deep inside of you. Fuck that, you had felt it against your thigh. You knew that he was and it was exciting. 
Your voice was weighed down by the thickness of your breaths. “Do you have condoms?”
“Always,” Jaehyun replied, pulling a drawer open on his nightstand to retrieve one.
That was a relief. You had never done it raw before and though you liked Jaehyun, you weren’t sure where his dick had been and what all it had seen. You’d rather be safe.
Jaehyun gently pushed you back onto the mattress and crawled over you, drawing the condom between his teeth while he tossed your shirt and bra halfway across his bedroom, then whispered, “Tell me how you want it.”
“Hard and deep. Deep and hard,” you confessed sultrily, looking him dead in the eye. 
Jaehyun smirked. “That can be arranged.”
You watched Jaehyun shuffle out of his pants and put the condom on, but the bulk of your attention was set on that thick, girthy cock. Your mouth was watering. Maybe some other time you could suck him off, but right now getting it between your thighs was all you wanted. 
It didn’t seem as if he glanced up, but Jaehyun said, “You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Jaehyun said. 
You giggled. “No, I’m not.”
The sound faded when you spread your legs apart invitingly and he penetrated you at an excruciatingly slow pace, sinking deeper inch by fucking inch. 
You and Jaehyun made a sound in harmony when he finally filled you to the hilt, grasping your waist and using it as anchor like he was at risk of going dangerously deep if he made one wrong move and never returning to the surface. 
Good thing it was only the two of you. You, keeping quiet when he was this good with his hands and presumably even better with his thick cock? There was no way in hell. 
“Oh my god…,” you whispered, obsessed with the sensation of being filled. 
Whatever you were thinking right now, Jaehyun wholeheartedly agreed. You made his brain grind to a halt and stutter. “Does that feel okay?”
“More than okay,” you told him, because it was the truth. Somehow the pleasure was only spiking. The ecstasy continued to build. 
You looked so beautiful beneath the golden-yellow hue of his lamplight and Jaehyun knew he would be fantasizing about how your face tensed with pleasure for weeks, if not months.
Jaehyun especially liked the way you were tightening around his cock, gripping it for dear life as if letting go simply wasn’t an option. You wound your legs around his hips and helped draw him into yours in spite of knowing it could ruin you, a telltale sign that your desire for more outweighed any rational thinking. 
It just felt so good that it had to be illegal and though you knew that it wasn’t, it was damn near close. 
There was still music playing from the vinyl player in the background that soothed any and all nerves that you could’ve ever had. You took a moment and inhaled deeply, breathing in the musk of Jaehyun and the scent of the candles. 
Your eyes fluttered closed. It was ironic that you were on a raging high even though you hadn’t even gotten around to having your usual fill of marijuana. In legal terms, you were far from inebriated. But according to yourself? You were fiending for Jaehyun and found him lethally intoxicating. 
His weight on top of you. His deep, guttural grunts in your ear between his jagged breaths. His perfect thrusts and the way he stroked you exactly how you wanted, all the while reaping his pleasure from your body. 
It was fucking mind-blowing. 
Jaehyun had a similar thought and it tore a noise out of him. His intentions in inviting you over tonight weren’t to have sex, in spite of his roommate’s attempts at getting him to get laid when he was only trying to break you in, but it was an unregrettable decision. 
“You take it so good, baby,” Jaehyun said tenderly, but it barely scratched the tip of the iceberg of praises he had in storage especially for you. 
Fuck, you wanted to hate how easy it was for him to kindle these rash flames inside of you, but your attraction to Jaehyun became undeniable the second you initiated the first rendezvous. 
You were peering into Jaehyun’s soul, searching his whole face without knowing what you were looking for, and saw the euphoria fluttering his eyes closed and spreading his lips apart just enough for those heavenly sounds to slip through. 
You guessed you found it then, because the tightening in the pit of your gut was at an all-time high and it wasn’t skipping out on the extremes. 
Combing your hands through his hair, you whimpered, “I’m so close.”
Jaehyun accelerated his pace, wanting to take you to the ends of the earth and back. You noticed, because you could feel his hard dick slapping against your hips with a purpose, and you swore to god your eyes rolled somewhere black. 
The end was creeping up on you from behind. You could feel it. Jaehyun could feel it himself, the telltale twitch of his cock indicating that he was pushing his limits. 
“I want you to cum,” Jaehyun growled in no uncertain terms, his tone dominant. “Nice and hard. Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yes,” you choked out. 
If you were being frank, he didn’t even have to ask. It was impossible to hide the evidence of your impending orgasm, the heightened tremors in your voice and the shakiness in your body were more than enough proof. 
All you could think about was how restlessly you were going after this orgasm and how terribly you needed it like it would fix every little thing going wrong in your life.
Your hands slipped from Jaehyun’s hair to his shoulders to finally his back, raking your nails down the flesh in a set of ministrations that were bound to leave red lines, and you rasped breathlessly, “Finish me.”
The hoarseness of your voice alone could’ve broken Jaehyun but he hung on for your sake, fingertips flitting to your sensitive, swollen clit again because he knew he wouldn’t last very much longer. 
You were even more restless than before and it wasn’t long until Jaehyun granted your wish, your lips parting in a scream and your vision going totally black. Your toes curled into tight bends as you grinded your hips into Jaehyun, milking your release for every damn dime.
Jaehyun could feel you clenching rapidly and repeatedly around his cock and merely seconds after that it was game over. He came with the deepest, sexiest groan you had ever heard before in your life, hips stuttering as his cum filled the condom, and all you could think about was how this could not be a one-time thing. 
The next few minutes were a blur. You only recalled Jaehyun peeling off you to dispose of the condom, the layers of sweat on your naked bodies keeping you connected, and returning to your side briefly. 
Jaehyun scanned you for any signs of obvious discomfort. “Are you okay?”
Your mouth was hanging open, aggressive pants falling from your lips, but Jaehyun’s attention was no longer focused on your heaving chest - it was on you. “No, more like incredible.”
That had Jaehyun in the first half, but he snickered in amusement and relief when you wrapped up your sentence. “Do you wanna shower with me?”
“That’s kinda intimate,” you said, as if that was actually going to stop you. “Hell yeah, I do.”
Jaehyun rolled his eyes, but there was a smile plain as day on his face. You cried out in surprise when he hauled you into his burly arms, hooking one of them under your knees, and carried you into his bathroom. 
Your own individual toothbrush was in there on the sink counter squarely beside Jaehyun’s. It was only right that he let you keep one there, given how many late Friday nights you spent at his house instead of your own. 
Plus some of your clothes were there, tucked into his drawers, but when you returned to his bedroom, you donned one of his shirts that was unsurprisingly oversized on you. 
You sat on Jaehyun’s bed, memories of what you’d just done on his sheets still fresh, and watched him rifling through his vinyl catalog, but because he was shirtless you quickly got distracted by the view you had of his back. 
At least until he turned around after setting the vinyl on his record player, apparently oblivious, and coming to sit at your side. 
There was mischief on your face and you were struggling to stifle a giggle. It was obvious, and Jaehyun furrowed his brows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Jaehyun didn’t believe you at all, but he didn’t press. 
You sighed contentedly, leaning into his naked chest. The little voice in your brain was thinking about how he smelled so clean and fresh, and good. Well, duh, she snapped. If you somehow weren’t paying attention, he just got out of the shower. 
But you were definitely paying attention, maybe a little more than you should’ve. It wasn’t your fault he looked like the leading role of every romance book ever. This was a man out of every little girls’ childhood dreams and, more importantly, every grown woman’s wet ones. 
As Jaehyun held you in his arms, you couldn’t help but think, spotting little items in his room that screamed, I come from money. “Jaehyun, is it okay if I ask you a question?”
Jaehyun hummed. You figured he might’ve been close to dozing off, but in reality, he was just captivated by the smell of your hair and hoping it lingered on his pillows. 
“You’re pretty well-off, but you live with two other guys. You’re technically always alone, but you don’t live alone. Why?”
Now that wasn’t what Jaehyun was expecting you to ask him, but you were full of surprises. He took a moment to ponder his answer, finding himself reflecting. “It’s because of how I grew up, I guess. I was the only child, so it was just me and my parents in the house. I guess I kind of wanted to know what it's like to have brothers.”
You made a noise of content. “You’re close then.”
“Yup.” 
You could feel Jaehyun playing with your hair and it made you smile gently.
“What about you and your friends?”
“What about them?”
“What’s the relationship like? Have you fucked Mark?”
You were taken aback, though rather than be affronted, the ridiculousness of that question made you laugh. “No way. I prefer my vagina itch-free,” you quipped. 
Jaehyun chuckled. It was a shock that that kid got around town the way he did, but that was why Jaehyun had to respect the hustle. 
Then, out of nowhere, you got a little sober. “On a serious note, Mark is my bestie and he’s what I imagine having a little brother is like. Johnny really likes him too, so sometimes I’ll walk in on them hanging out without me.”
You didn’t notice the way Jaehyun’s head bobbed along, but he was listening. It was believable. Mark was a social butterfly and impossible to dislike, no matter how irritating. 
And he was only irritating to some. Those who didn’t find him to be a thorn in their side probably wanted him a number of inches deep in their guts. 
You continued, “Yuta is more Johnny’s friend than he is mine, but he’s laidback. Haechan is a little shit but he’s funny as fuck. And you know Jeno is chaotic as ever.”
You were fond of your circles of friends. Most folks assumed it must’ve been suffocating to be the only girl amongst a group of insufferable horny dudes, but it wasn’t half bad. Jeno had tried to get into your pants before, but when you turned him down he took the rejection coolly. 
Mark, like you said, was like a sibling to you and that went both ways. When somebody suggested the two of you hook up, his knee-jerk reaction was to hiss, “Ew!”
Haechan was a slut like all of them but he knew better than to slut himself out to you and Yuta, though you already couldn’t have been further from his type, was one of your older brother’s closest friends. According to Yuta himself, the thought of being in a relationship with you was hilarious. 
Never mind the fact that he admitted he’d actually do it, but strictly for fun. Pissing off Johnny was his full-time job and dating his younger sister? It would’ve been the easiest way. 
You and Jaehyun chatted until you couldn’t ignore each other’s incessant yawns and made the mutual agreement to crawl under the sheets together. A rare Jungkook appearance one weekend forced you into bed with each other and ever since that was how you’d slept. 
Side by side, skin to skin. 
The sun was brighter than ever when you woke up some hours later. You noticed that the curtains were open. And they had been since you likened Jaehyun to a vampire.
Speaking of Jaehyun, he was still sleeping like a rock beside you, completely still other than the gentle heave of his chest as he snored quietly. You crawled gingerly out of bed so as not to disturb his rest, the sight of him still asleep when you stood making you sigh out in relief. 
After a quick wash-up in the bathroom, you headed downstairs for a snack. Your stomach was rumbling and you realized that you hadn’t eaten since you left home. 
What you didn’t expect was to see Yugyeom half-naked in the kitchen though. 
You weren’t sure why. It was his house and if he wanted to walk around like he just went skinny dipping, then he had that right. Fortunately, he was wearing sweatpants, so you were spared from that unsightly picture. 
Yugyeom heard your footsteps and turned. “Oh, hey. Sleep good?”
“I only slept for a few hours,” you confessed, though you felt like you were quite well-rested. “But yeah, I slept pretty good.”
Yugyeom chuckled. “I bet.”
You said nothing else. Yugyeom wasn’t a total stranger, even before you started crashing at his house, but you weren’t close by any means. 
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” you said after a pause, straddling a barstool. 
“I mean, I do live here. Who do you think pays most of the bills?”
“Jaehyun,” you chirped. 
“Okay, that’s fair. Who do you think pays the second most of the bills?”
“You and Jungkook, but it wasn’t always that way.”
Yugyeom threw in the towel, realizing Jaehyun had most definitely had this discussion with you at some point. Then, he started to laugh. Jaehyun was discussing their finances with you? There was no way in living hell. 
I’ll be damned. Yugyeomed sighed in amusement. “You know, you’re the first girl I’ve seen last this long with Jaehyun.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not saying he’s a player, but I thought I’d stop seeing you around here, like, two weeks ago. For a girl to survive a month with him, she has to really crank up his brain. And Jaehyun isn’t easily impressed,” Yugyeom said. 
It was obvious what he was implying and you knew exactly where this was heading. “I’m sure, but Jaehyun and I are just vibing.”
“I didn’t say that you weren’t.”
“Yes, but you think that we aren’t,” you replied, rubbing your arms. It was always cold the mornings after. 
Yugyeom laughed. “No, I don’t. Not right now. I didn't even crack Jaehyun that soon. All I’m saying is Jaehyun is a real gem and I think that you have a solid chance.”
“And you want me to take it?”
Yugyeom was strategically bouncing around, going from subtly planting ideas in your head to making them seem as if they were your own. “Whatever you do with that information is out of my hands and none of my business.”
Your lips parted to speak, but you were fortunately saved by the bell. Footsteps were heard from the hall and Jaehyun emerged from around the corner, voice deep from sleep, “What are you two talking about?”
Yugyeom lied without hesitation, “How handsome you are, of course.”
Jaehyun didn’t believe it for a second, but he stole the barstool beside you and gently nudged your elbow. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Oh, the handsomest,” you deadpanned, but rested your head onto his shoulder. 
Jaehyun let you. At least for a little while, but then he pulled you into his chest and mumbled groggily, “You left me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your hands tangled into his dark hair. “I’ll stay next time.”
“Good.”
Yugyeom was peering into the fridge, shaking his head, wondering if he was the only one that saw your fate. 
The whole weekend was spent in Jaehyun’s arms, restless. If you weren’t getting high on marijuana and chatting about whatever came to mind, you were dancing to one of his vinyls. If you weren’t kissing each other breathless, you were fucking each other senseless. 
It was two days of whimsical fun, ignoring the world and its insignificant little woes. In many ways, Jaehyun was like your oasis.
You were starting to hate Mondays. They were the days where you realized that nothing was forever, every time without fail. The days you had to finally face the world after a weekend of neglecting its existence. 
Plus you didn’t get a lot of Jaehyun during the other five days of the week, and though you understood your conflicting schedules, it was getting less and less easy to cope. 
Finals week thankfully gave you less time to think about whatever the hell was blossoming between you and Jaehyun. You didn’t want to think about it, because you were well aware that it wouldn’t last. As perfectly as Jaehyun molded into you, there was no piece of him that fit the bigger picture. 
But of course, you were pacing down your school’s courtyard with a bag slung over your shoulder when you noticed Mark’s footsteps catching up to you. “Wanna tell me why Johnny asked me if you’ve been going out with somebody lately?” he asked.
You pretended to be oblivious, keeping your head straight and your steps quick. “Why would he ask you that?”
“Because I’m your best friend and you tell me everything, or so I thought,” Mark hissed.
You groaned, weighing your options. You could keep this private love affair to yourself and let the guilt and pressure split you down the middle, or you could confide in your best friend and hope it took the edge off. 
Pulling Mark behind a tree and scanning your surroundings for unwanted bystanders, you exhaled roughly and said, “Don’t freak out, but I may or may not be sleeping with Jeong Jaehyun on the weekends.”
Mark was understandably dumbfounded by that information and screeched aloud, “What the fuck, dude?”
“I just said don’t freak out!”
Mark shook his head, the total opposite of cool and collected. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going to freak out. “Are you kidding? Johnny literally wants to kill him.”
“God, I know,” you bemoaned, pressing a palm to your forehead. This whole situation combined with the stress of finals was giving you a splitting headache. 
The shock was still evident on Mark’s face, but he seemed to be cooling off. “Shit, dude. This is crazy. Is the sex at least good?”
Your mind was fluttering with memories and it was hard to resist a smile. Getting laid right now would probably fix you. “Jeong Jaehyun may be a scoundrel for whatever reason, but I can reassure you he is not lacking in the sex department.”
Or any department. It was strange that in the weeks the two of you had spent bonding and the like, you had yet to identify a single red flag of Jaehyun’s. Apparently, the weirdest thing about this boy was the amount of pictures he kept of his toes. 
“Oh my god,” Mark gasped. 
“What?”
“That night you went upstairs to pee and didn’t come back,” Mark started, finally connecting the dots and displeased he hadn’t seen the hints earlier. “You were off screwing Jaehyun, weren’t you?”
“Actually, no. I was with him, yes, but we weren’t hooking up then.”
Mark was baffled to very fucking his core. That had to be half a decade ago. This whole time, you were spending your spare time on Jaehyun and nobody knew?
Gripping Mark by the shoulders, you stared into his eyes and said sternly, “Listen. You can’t tell Johnny.”
Your best friend made a face of disapproval, but nodded his head. “Alright. Fine.”
“I’m serious. You have to promise.”
Mark groaned, “Dude, I’m not gonna tell Johnny that you’re fucking Jaehyun. No matter how bizarre and borderline batshit insane that is to say aloud. I promise your secret is safe with me.”
You released his shoulders and a shaky breath, relenting. “Okay.”
“But that doesn’t mean that I approve.”
“Understandable. I can live with that.”
“I don’t see how,” Mark grumbled under his breath. 
You frowned. 
Months flew by. Christmas and News Year were a blur, two events you and Jaehyun spent at separate locations. Your parents were rarely home, but the winter holidays were a period of time that they always made sure to be around for. And Jaehyun paid his family a visit that week. 
But then it was February, and the national holiday that was Jaehyun’s birthday came of nowhere. 
“No way you were born on Valentine’s day,” you remembered telling him a few months back after asking him about his birthday. Jaehyun had groaned, more than accustomed to how this conversation played out. This was far from his first rodeo. 
Though it was rare that a girl made it to actually celebrate his birthday with him. 
Idiotically, you found yourself scorching with nerves that afternoon, overwhelmingly anxious. Your whole body was tense and you paced around your room antsily for hours until it was time to get in your car and head out to Jaehyun’s house. 
You had gotten him a gift and you weren’t sure whether he would like it or not. Then again, you had spent weeks planning what you would give him based on every second of every little conversation you’d shared and you were half confident, half uncertain. 
Jungkook opened the door to leave at the same moment you were preparing yourself to go inside, most likely heading to his girlfriend’s place after spending the morning celebrating his friend’s birthday, and held the door open for you. “Uh, do you need a minute?”
“No. Thank you,” you replied bashfully, catching the door and finally turning inside. 
You took one more deep breath and paced upstairs while gripping the box in your hands so tightly it might’ve broken. 
Jaehyun was sitting on his bed, his guitar in his hands instead of standing upright in the corner of his bedroom as typical, and glanced up when he heard your footsteps. “Hi.”
“Hi, birthday boy,” you greeted. 
Jaehyun was smiling. You had already wished him a happy birthday at midnight on the dot which was a sweet gesture in itself. 
“I, uh, got you something,” you said, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so nervous. 
“I can see that.” Jaehyun set his guitar aside. There was curiosity in his stare, but he whispered, “You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to. You’re my… friend,” you told him awkwardly, handing over the gift before it made you say something stupid. “I didn’t know what to get a guy who has literally everything he wants, but I tried.”
Jaehyun accepted the gift box graciously, peeling off the wrap, and said, “Whatever you got me is more than enough, baby.”
You sure hoped so. You didn’t spend the past few weeks stressing over this very moment for nothing. You wanted to give him something thoughtful and memorable. 
Anticipation made your heart sound like thunder. You fidgeted, twiddling your thumbs as Jaehyun slowly opened the box, retrieving a guitar strap alongside a couple of other items. The awe that tensed Jaehyun’s features was authentic and your heart was taut with giddiness when his lips tugged into a beaming smile. 
A few words scribbled onto the guitar strap caught Jaehyun’s attention and he unhesitatingly pulled them closer to his face to get a better look. It was like a little note, but words only you would say. Play me till the end. 
“Wow,” Jaehyun whispered, feeling a thumping inside of his ribcage. “You… I literally mentioned that I wanted one of these in passing.”
“When you talk, I listen.”
Jaehyun’s eyes met yours. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, straddling his lap and tossing your arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, baby.”
Jaehyun set his hands at your hips and kissed you restlessly, restraint taking the backseat as he absorbed every bit of your warmth and used it to fuel his fire. Your lips took him to the other side but your hands kept him grounded. 
Things felt different now. Kissing Jaehyun had never not been spellbinding, but right now? The feeling in your chest was indescribably hot. 
But it was dangerous and terrifying. It defied everything you told yourself to be true, and every principle you had laid out. This was deeper than building a relationship with the enemy. It was the intimacy that accompanied trusting another guy with your heart, and fighting the unshakable doubts. 
You had built something of a friendship with Jaehyun. Friends that occasionally kissed and felt each other up and had hooked up more than once. 
But what if you wanted more? What if you were really two star-crossed lovers that couldn’t have each other? What if?
Jaehyun wondered if your feelings had gotten as tense as his were. Months ago, he was telling himself not to get too close to you because of who your brother was and your clear lack of romantic intentions, but no amount of walls he put up could’ve prevented his feelings from getting this deep. 
You wouldn’t tell him even if they had. What good would it have done for him to know that you loved him, but you couldn’t have him? 
When Jaehyun pulled back, he stared into your eyes, not at your lips. “Let’s go make hot cocoa,” he said after a pause.
You blinked in surprise, but Jaehyun was already tugging you along before you could even think. 
The time in the kitchen together was a beautiful mess. You liked randomly bursting out into song and Jaehyun liked dancing, which ultimately turned into him tenderly cradling you there in his arms and mumbling into your ear, the hot cocoa all but forgotten. 
You especially liked the toasty smell of a hot, creamy mug of hot chocolate. It was very Jaehyun-like. The winter seasons in general were reminiscent of his personality, not because he was cold (like some people assumed), but the sheer opposite. 
Jaehyun was the warmest guy that you had ever met, in a way. Anyone who said otherwise didn’t have the privilege of knowing him, but you? You liked to think that you had him all figured out.
Maybe there was a chance you did to an extent. Getting to know him over the course of these long months had definitely shifted your previous perspective. Jaehyun kept to himself because he was afraid of his vulnerability being used as a weapon, but when you broke those stubborn barriers, you saw that Jaehyun was just a guy that wanted a home. 
He had one, metaphorically speaking, but no one to share it between. That was why you used to think he was shy, and why others thought he was cold. Jaehyun wanted to protect the home he’d built for himself and was reluctant to let others in, because he wanted it to be sturdy for the ones he would let stay.  
A hopeless romantic to his core. 
After making sure the kitchen was tidy, Jaehyun led you away to the infamous white couch that stretched along his living room wall. Your favorite spot in the whole house. Aside from his bedroom, of course.
Jaehyun, on the other hand, couldn’t decide. Half of it was littered in a slew of memories of you and his whole bedroom smelled more like you than it did himself now. Picking a favorite would be an impossible choice. 
There was a lull of silence as the two of you sipped from your mugs, but it wasn’t an issue. The silence was always comfortable with Jaehyun, as well as literally everything else about him. 
Though you didn’t notice, the weird thing now was that Jaehyun was less secure. He didn’t make it obvious, but he was remarkably nervous. Jaehyun tried to cloak his nerves when he said, “I kind of got you something, too.”
Your eyes went wide with shock. “You got me something… for your birthday?”
“I mean, yeah. It’s also Valentine’s day and you’re… important to me,” Jaehyun confessed softly, a tiny smile breaking out onto his lips. 
“I am?”
“You are,” he whispered, hurriedly reaching into his pockets for something. Imagine your surprise when he dropped a USB drive into the palm of your hand. “Stick it into your computer when you get home.”
You nodded obediently, sitting it on the coffee table so that it wouldn’t be crushed in your jeans, but your innate curiosity was never satisfied and you asked, “What’s on it?”
“A surprise,” was all Jaehhyun said. 
You hummed. If Jaehyun didn’t want to tell you, you knew it would be pointless to press. 
But you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t killing you. 
Jaehyun knew that. He knew you were a curious individual, because he was drawn to your insatiable need to know. But he didn’t want to be there to see your reaction. Just looking at you made his chest taut and rejection’s brutal fangs still ripped him to shreds. 
At least you couldn’t tell by looking at him. Jaehyun had made sure of that. “Talk to me,” he said, squeezing your hand. 
You smiled, because his hands were warm from the hot cocoa. “About what?”
“Tell me more about yourself. It’s been months, but I feel like there’s still more to know about you. Talk to me about what you love. Your hopes and dreams.”
A little sigh left you. “Where do I even begin?” That was what you said, but you’d already continued without affording yourself any time to pause. “I want to be an orthopedic surgeon. I’m obsessed with anatomy and how our bodies function. That’s why I’ve been busting my ass for grad school.”
That much was obvious. Anybody that saw you on the party scene might’ve assumed you were merely another hopeless college student who only knew hooking up and getting shit-faced drunk, but Jaehyun’s first time seeing you was in the back of a library with a laptop and a heap of textbooks. 
You were a hard-worker and no hangover stood a chance between you and your goals. But you were also just a normal girl who wanted to let loose sometimes. It was the perfect balance. 
Jaehyun was a keen listener. “That sounds tough.”
You fought a groan. “God, yes. But it’s so worth it. It’s my senior year and I’ve been waiting my whole life for med school.”
“You’ve wanted to be a surgeon for that long?”
“I’ve always known who I wanted to be,” you exhaled contentedly. And for that you were endlessly grateful. “What about you?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “No. Not always. First, I guess I had to leave home and do the whole ‘finding yourself’ thing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s rare that people are born with an innate sense of who they are. We deserve to live life through trial and error. That’s freedom,” you said.
Jaehyun wholeheartedly agreed. Leaving home to explore his identity might’ve been the toughest decision he ever made, but also the best one. “What about love?”
“What about it?”
“Did you ever dream of that, too?”
You should’ve figured he would go there. It was the essential question. The world of trauma beyond your control. “I used to,” you admitted, somber. “I just haven’t had a ton of faith in it lately. That’s what happens when you grow up, I think. You realize life’s not like the movies.”
Funny how I call you a hopeless romantic when hopeless romantics are anything but hopeless. In spite of the pain and the betrayal, they refuse to accept that they might die alone one day. If anything, I’m the hopeless one. I’ve fallen in love with the one boy I could never make mine. 
Jaehyun frowned for a split second, but recovered quickly. “Yeah, I know.”
You wondered who had hurt him, but chose not to ask. If he wanted to tell you, then he already would’ve. 
“You didn’t ask me,” Jaehyun started. 
You glanced up at him. 
“About my pain,” he continued shortly. “About her.”
“I didn’t think you were ready.”
“Do you want to know?”
“I mean, yeah. Of course, I want to know who hurt you and how that made you who you are. I want to understand you. But only as much as you want me to,” you told him. The truth was that as curious as you were, you were afraid of overstepping. The same way that Jaehyun was terrified of oversharing. 
He replied with total certainty, “I want you to know.”
You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat and unsure why. It was his deep, dark secrets being revealed, not yours. Plus you were positive there wasn’t a single person in the county who didn’t know your history with your one and only ex. “Okay. Take your time.”
Jaehyun heaved a shaky breath, preparing himself to share something that he’d never specifically told anyone. “Back home in Seoul, I dated a girl. I was naive and I thought she was the one. But she wasn’t. She only wanted a guy handsome enough to impress her parents.”
You maintained eye contact to let Jaehyun know you were listening. 
Jaehyun continued, “I guess we had different desires in life. She wanted a boy to show off and I wanted a girl who was my best friend at the foundation. We only talked about surface things. I couldn’t be myself around her.”
You nodded. That sounded like the Jaehyun you knew. 
“Then, I found out she was cheating on me,” Jaehyun added calmly, but he still recalled the trembles of anger that wrecked through his body. “And I left her then and there. I dipped. I might’ve been a naive idiot, but I knew my worth. She was my first and my last.”
You were shocked. That you shared the same pain - an unfaithful partner - and that Jaehyun hadn’t had nearly as many other partners as you thought he would’ve. “You’ve only dated once?”
“For me, once was enough to figure out what I wanted in a relationship, and it wasn’t a girl who I could barely trust or be myself with,” Jaehyun said. “I talked to other girls, but like I said before, nothing lasted, and I’ve obviously hooked up.”
Ironically, I’ve been hurt more by girls I never had than a girl that was supposed to belong to me. 
“I harbored resentment for a long time, but what lasted longer was the leftover fear of trusting someone again. I only let people see what I want them to see. And because of that, I’m a little lonely sometimes, but it’s okay.”
“Does it get sad?” you asked quietly. 
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, but it’s better than being heartbroken. Anyways, I’ve gotten better about inviting people into my life and having good judgment. Time makes it easier.”
You make it easier, was what he meant, but Jaehyun wasn’t that bold yet. He might have been the one to approach you and attempt to initiate this private affair, but you sticking around was the last thing he expected. And that opened the door for the possibility that relationships didn’t have expiration dates. 
Reading between the lines, you were hoping that somewhere along them he wasn’t hinting about a potential future with you. Jaehyun’s head was in the clouds, but you were grounded below the surface. Because you had already resigned yourself to the fact that you didn’t have a future together.
But of course, that never stopped you from letting him undress you. 
You were hyper aware of Jaehyun’s eyes staring into yours and it was beginning to unnerve you a little. “Is there hot cocoa on my face?”
Jaehyun shook his head with a cute laugh and finally leaned into you for a kiss, obviously done speaking and prepared to show. You let him take you down onto the couch, laid defenseless beneath him, on the edge of surrender. 
You giggled into his lips, pleased at how silly it was that he tasted like the hot drink you’d shared. Your hands were wound through his hair and tugging him closer to you, wanting to be inseparable. You wouldn’t be sated till his soul was tied to yours. 
When it came to your body, you were more than inclined to let Jaehyun dominate you. But your heart was more than you had bargained for. 
Jaehyun yanked at the waistband of your sweatpants and you swore you could sense your heart swelling with the exhilaration of getting laid by the only guy you wanted. You raised your hips, letting him take them and your underwear from underneath you. 
You gasped loudly when his fingers ghosted along the insides of your thighs and unhurriedly traveled to your core, which was throbbing at the barest of touches. Jaehyun made you ache. Your body neglected every thought that didn’t concern him when it longed for him to use it until you were sore. 
Jaehyun sucked a slick pair of fingers into his mouth fleetingly before inserting them inside your pussy, making you verbally respond to the contact with a soft whimper, and stole the sound right from your lips with a hot wet kiss. You only tightened around his digits when he pressed his lips to you and it made his head spin quicker than ever. 
You pulled back and panted, “So, you won’t let me sleep on the couch, but you’ll fuck me on it?”
“It’s seen worse days,” Jaehyun said, muting the sound of his own chuckle when he pressed his mouth to your neck. 
You were torn between a laugh and a moan and the final sound was a breathy whimper of Jaehyun’s name. His mouth felt too good on your neck and you couldn’t forget his hands between your parted legs. Gentleman in the streets, but a beast in the sheets. 
Jaehyun was touching you impatiently. Your exhales were loud and jagged when he pulled back from your stained throat, and Jaehyun couldn’t help but imagine the noises you would make when he was finally seated deeply inside of your pussy that was clenching around his long slender digits. 
Deciding you were wet enough to take his cock, Jaehyun recouped his hand from between your thighs and asked, “You ready for me, baby?”
“More than,” you whispered, disgruntled with the emptiness but consoled by the knowledge that you would be full of him momentarily. 
Jaehyun stepped out of his clothes without hesitation and got a hold of your naked legs, dragging you toward him and leaving no room for empty space. The two of you locked eyes when he finally started to penetrate you and he looked at you with need. But you glanced away. You couldn’t stare into his soul as he captured yours. You couldn’t do it. 
You moaned when he pushed the head of his cock through your entrance and again when it went as deeply as it could enter. The stretch was so mad, but so good. You never knew how closely the pain could be interlocked to pleasure before Jaehyun took you for a spin on his big cock.
Jaehyun pulled out with a disgruntled groan, stealing the pleasure before you could really soak in the sensation. 
You winced your eyes open and asked confusedly, “Why did you do that?”
“I forgot a condom,” Jaehyun admitted bashfully, a timid little glint in his stare. 
“Gee, you sure chose a fantastic time to remember,” you deadpanned. 
Jaehyun looked like he was a little ashamed and it amused the hell out of you. In the heat of your vice-like cunt, he’d lost track of all thoughts other than getting his cock inside. 
You gawked when he stood and you caught an eyeful of his cute butt when he turned for the stairs. “Where are you going?”
Like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world, Jaehyun replied nonchalantly, “To get a condom.”
“Sit your cute ass down,” you told him a bit too assertively. “You can have me raw.” 
Jaehyun looked like his brain short-circuited. “For real?”
You nodded. “Yes, for real, you dummy. Just pull out.”
Jaehyun combed his fingers through his hair and groaned, “That’s one hell of a responsibility, woman.”
You purred teasingly, “Are you scared you won’t be able to do it, or are you scared that you’ll bust too fast?”
Jaehyun’s eyes fell to your gorgeous, spread legs, thickly swallowing the lump in his throat at the mouth-watering sight of you laid bare and exposed as you waited for him to take you. Fuck. Maybe both.
You snickered to yourself. Unbeknownst to Jaehyun, you were on birth control. And you had no intention of telling him right now. You wanted to gauge his restraint. 
Jaehyun didn’t reply, but he did return to the couch to slip between your folds again, and that was even better. Your pussy throbbed tirelessly, missing the way his thick cock stretched you out, and it drew deep grunts from the very back edge of Jaehyun’s throat. 
You could feel every inch of him pressed deep inside your pulsing walls, flush against you. All of him. There was literally nothing to separate the two of you, exactly as you had wanted, only the heat and tightness of your cunt suffocating his cock relentlessly. 
Jaehyun loved how you took him like a fucking champ. You sucked his cock back in like you needed it, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you. Your eyes winced closed and your lips parted as you sang his name in a shrill whimper. 
You were rapt with ecstasy at his long, deep thrusts that took you to the moon. The pain and guilty thoughts disappeared into his slow yet steady rhythm, as if Jaehyun wanted to make sure you could feel every bit of himself that he had to offer. 
Like he was making love to you.
“You’re so beautiful. I’m in love with your body,” Jaehyun whispered gently into your ear, hooked on you.
You moaned, oblivious to the fact that he really meant he was in love with you. When your naked bodies were bursting with heat and satisfaction, meeting each other in a wet collision, all else ceased to matter. 
Jaehyun kissed you again. You swore he stole the pulse right from your chest in that very moment, your heart open to him. His hands were everywhere, tenderly cupping your breasts and thumbing your stiff nipples. This was pleasure. This was elysian. This was all yours.
You were breathless when the two of you separated and the minutes of your lips tangled together felt like mere seconds. God, Jaehyun made you insatiable. As you did to him. The two of you couldn’t get enough, not of the sex and not of each other. It was lethally dangerous to want something as badly as you both wanted one another. 
But you knew that when you laid eyes on him, when you indulged him. You knew that he was endless trouble and yet you crept into his arms anyway like a moth to the flame. 
“God, fuck,” you rasped, throat hoarse from how you were screeching his name. “You make me feel so good.”
Jaehyun was so gentle and affectionate with you, tickling kisses down every bit of your soft skin his lips could access. It was times like these, when he completed you perfectly, where you welcomed the thought that you were made for each other. And only for each other. 
Your mouth was dry, open with every halfway cry of Jaehyun’s name that you could manage. Your skin was damp and sticky with moisture, a thin layer of sweat keeping his skin adhering to yours. Of course, there was a similar glistening sheen dripping down Jaehyun, beading at his forehead and neck. 
It made you lick your chapped lips. This man was abundantly mouth-watering. You wanted to give him anything he wanted and in this sex-induced haze, you knew that you would have. 
Jaehyun noticed your eyes fixated on literally anywhere but his face and it made him chuckle smugly. He craned his head downwards to nibble beneath your ear and groan praises about how perfect and tight you were around his cock. 
You tangled your hands in his hair again, desperate to ground yourself, before sitting them at his handsome broad shoulders. He had no business being this good at touching and fucking you. You were downright ashamed of the noises that left your lips but made no attempts to block the pleasure causing them to slip into the dense air. 
“Like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Jay,” you whimpered, squeezing his shoulders. 
The thought of you releasing around his bare cock made a shudder shoot through Jaehyun and he almost couldn’t take it. You sensed his pace getting a little rougher, as if he was out to get you. Out to finish you. “Look at me,” he growled. 
You did. You didn’t have any other options. Not when it was him bleeding you dry, making your body dependent on his touches.
Looking into his dark eyes, everything stopped. The whole world was set on pause. You almost couldn’t breathe. This was how it felt to fall with no anchor.
“I want you to cum on my cock,” Jaehyun said lowly, rutting into you at a dangerous pace. 
You nodded. You were completely submissive to his desires.
There was a throbbing pressure in your gut that only got harsher with every wet smack of Jaehyun’s hips into yours. You wound your legs around his waist and pulled him into you, wanting to fuse together your limbs. 
Your body felt as if it were on fire. The sweat cooling down your neck, the lack of oxygen in the air. The breaths Jaehyun snatched plain from your lips. It was more than enough to take you out. 
Jaehyun watched as your orgasm finally seized you in its open arms, taking you by surprise. Your abs tensed viciously and you arched into Jaehyun with pleasure, sensing your eyes roll to the very back of your head and your toes curl into taut knots. 
You were still sensitive from your climax but Jaehyun’s pace was absolutely unforgiving, rutting into you mercilessly through your release. The tightness of your pussy drew a thick groan out of his mouth, but he still wasn’t done with you yet. And you were very keen on letting him use your body until he finished. 
Jaehyun relented when you finally started to calm down after coming undone, kissing your cheeks and the corner of your lips as you went almost entirely slack. The only motion in you was the aggressive heave of your chest as you panted for breath. 
You let Jaehyun thrust in and out of you, fighting the overstimulation for his sake. You were content to feel him brushing against your slick walls and hear those breathy grunts. 
Smoothing your hands up and down his burly arms, you whispered, “Jay, baby, keep going. I don’t care how long it takes. Fuck me until you’re done.”
Jaehyun bit his lip to veil a pathetic moan at those words. After he took care of your needs, you were letting him ply you for his own pleasure. You were his vice, his ruining. Your fingers grazed across his back, gathering the droplets of moisture that were beading at the surface. 
You could feel how hot his skin was, burning up in the heat of you. 
Abruptly, Jaehyun pulled out of you and tore you upright, holding his desperate cock in the palm of his hand as he groaned, “Get on your knees.” 
You obeyed without hesitation, meek. Crawling onto the carpet floor, you took him in your palms and stroked his thick girthy cock gingerly, careful not to be too rough. He was victimless in your warm hands, needy and at your mercy, leaving you with total control. 
Then it was game over for Jaehyun when you finally took him between your soft lips, gently easing him to the back of your throat. God, it was a struggle to fit his big cock completely into your mouth, but you somehow managed. You kept your cheeks hollowed, opening them for him to thrust. 
“Fuck,” Jaehyun moaned, head thrown back and eyes winced closed. You knew exactly what needed to be done to finish him off. 
You liked playing with his cock, obviously, but you loved having it in your mouth way more. There was nothing like driving Jaehyun to the cusp of insanity, teasing him with your tongue and hot mouth, plucking those beautiful sounds out of his lips. He lost himself whenever he was inside your throat. 
Jaehyun was in total bliss. Your mouth was no less impressive than your sheathlike cunt for all he knew, your lips wrapping around his stiff cock feverishly without a doubt in your mind that you could make him lose his own, and he almost didn’t want to orgasm yet. He only knew you, and what you did to him. And he was too greedy to want it to end. 
You had this boy all to yourself, wrapped tightly around your fingers with nowhere to hide. And you didn’t have the slightest clue what to do with him, or yourself. 
Aside from pleasuring each other in bed, or on the couch in this case. You were exceptionally gifted at getting him off.
Jaehyun could feel himself approaching the threshold of release and he did everything in his power to fight it off, to keep it at bay, but it was basically useless. He couldn’t even help but fuck your mouth. You were working him too good and he was coming whether he liked it or not. 
You were impressed that he had even lasted this long. Normally, when you let a guy hit it raw, they could barely resist emptying their load into you at the peak of climax. 
Jaehyun ultimately couldn’t control himself anymore and his jaw slacked with a deep, lethal groan as his hips came to a total standstill, painting the back of your throat with a streak of cum. Fuck, it was the sexiest noise you’d ever heard, and it aroused a throbbing between your legs. 
You managed to gulp him down and it was the hottest thing Jaehyun had ever seen watching you swallow his cum like that. He pulled back, a misty gleam in his dark soulless eyes as he collapsed onto the couch, breathless. There was a layer of dew at your lashes and you dabbed at your eyes to wipe them clear. 
Jaehyun looked like he’d just had the ground ripped from underneath him. “You just blew my mind,” he said through jagged breaths. 
You didn’t miss a beat. “I just blew you.”
Jaehyun laughed, shaking the hair out of his face. 
After both of you found your clothes and redressed yourselves, you decided to mention slyly, “By the way, I’m on birth control.”
Jaehyun’s mouth gaped open. “Are you serious? I was scared you might get pregnant.”
“That didn’t stop you from fucking me though, now did it?” you replied, crossing your arms. 
“I wasn’t that scared.”
You snickered. This idiot was a man you wanted to protect with your life, but you knew that you lacked the arsenal. “Besides, at least our baby would’ve had the world’s finest father.”
“And the world’s finest mother. They would’ve been beautiful,” Jaehyun flirted. 
Your cheeks flushed with heat at the compliment and his obvious flirtatious behavior. “I meant that you would’ve been a good dad, but sure. That works too.”
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered in shock. “Why do you think that?”
You shrugged, not thinking too hard about it. You didn’t need to when the answer was right at the tip of your tongue. “Because love itself is your passion. You’re selfless, patient. Protective. And you fight for what you love.”
Jaehyun said nothing. He was mulling over your confession, suspiciously quiet the whole time, but you were so tired that you hardly noticed. Your body was spent and you wanted to go upstairs and climb into his bed. 
You stretched your arms over your head and stood to collect the cocoa-stained dishes in your arms. Jaehyun blinked at the action, and would’ve stopped you to do it himself, but you were already halfway to the kitchen by the time he noticed. 
Jaehyun walked over and pressed himself behind you, draping his arms around your hips and resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled, enamored with how it felt to be skin-to-skin with him, and when you finished with the two mugs, he reached over your head to set them down in the cabinets. 
You dragged Jaehyun upstairs by his arm to his own bedroom and slipped beneath his silk sheets, but invited him to drape himself above you and rest his head on your chest like you were his fluffy pillow and he was the thick, cozy blankets. 
It was comfortable that way. You liked Jaehyun’s weight on you, so close to you, crushed beneath the pressure. His arms would tangle around you and leave you little room to escape. But you wouldn’t want to leave. 
That was how you woke up sometimes. You used to be afraid that you’d accidentally rouse him and disturb his beauty slumber, but Jaehyun always slept like a ton of bricks. This boy could probably sleep through a hurricane and wake up wondering what happened to his roof. 
You sighed, whisking your fingers through his dark hair and staring at his face. You expected his eyes to be closed when you looked at him, but they were watching you. The ache in your chest was unignorable, unbearable. 
Those long nights and shorter mornings with Jaehyun were all you had, but you wanted something of permanence and you were finally admitting it to yourself. You knew these moments couldn’t last forever and didn’t attempt to deny it, but you were hoping and wishing. 
Smoothing your thumb down Jaehyun’s cheek, you felt a piece of your heart crumble. I can’t have you and I don’t even know why. 
“Jay?” you whispered. 
“Hm?”
You hesitated, brimming with reluctance. A few months ago, you would’ve thought it wasn’t your place to ask, but dammit Johnny was your brother and Jaehyun… meant something to you. This was officially your business. “Why does my brother hate you?” you asked. 
Jaehyun sat up abruptly, surprised. You matched the shock in his eyes, startled by his sudden movements. “You don’t know?”
You shook your head. “No. Johnny never told me. I assumed he would when he was ready, but it’s killing me and I need to know.” Because I can’t make sense of why we can’t be together, but ironically, it makes it easier to justify being here with you right now.
Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair, looking particularly perturbed. No wonder it was so easy for you to climb into bed with him. Night after night, weekend after weekend. 
You were almost afraid to ask, “Is this going to change my perspective on you?”
“It shouldn’t if you believe me,” Jaehyun said, but the truth was that he wasn’t too confident that you’d take his side. 
You peered up at him expectantly, resting your hand on his back while he sat beside you. You were partly terrified to know the truth, watching him nervously, but god, you were exhausted of being kept in the dark. 
Jaehyun exhaled deeply. He didn’t want to lose you, not before he truly had you, but he knew what he was, and more importantly, he knew what he wasn’t. “You knew Mike, right?”
You bobbed your head, lips parting in surprise at the mention of Johnny’s friend, but let him continue. 
Jaehyun explained, “I’m sure you know, but he was addicted to drugs and it was fucking up his whole life. I tried to help him get clean before he fucked around and killed himself. And he was, I think. That’s what he said.”
You recognized this story. Johnny had said something similar, but it was about his own efforts. You somehow never realized that Jaehyun and Mike were friends. “But?”
“But then he wasn’t clean anymore,” Jaehyun said in the tiniest voice ever. “Last year, at one of Xiaojun’s parties. It came out of nowhere. He overdosed on fent and coke.”
You knew that too. And you hated that Mike was gone so soon, taken by a poison he couldn’t stop once he’d gotten his hands on it. It was heartbreaking. 
“Then some people started to say that I did it, that I gave him the drugs. And I was at the party only a room away when he OD’d, but I swear to god it wasn’t me. But they ran with it anyway.”
You frowned, pausing your hands’ consolations at his back in shock. It was starting to add up now, why Johnny hated Jaehyun. Because he thought he was complicit in the death of one of his closest friends. 
That was when he started to become a tad too overprotective of you and it didn’t take a genius to piece together why, but you never knew it was the reason he loathed Jaehyun and didn’t want you anywhere near him. There were so many nights where you went to parties at Jaehyun’s house and Johnny would ask if you’d done any drugs. 
Because of Jaehyun. 
“God, to this day, I want to punch the bastard that gave Mike that stuff. And if I knew who he was, I’d kick his ass. So, I can understand why Johnny wants to kick mine. But it wasn’t me,” Jaehyun said, sounding broken. 
You blinked, taking it all in silently. You were at a crossroads. 
Though he was hesitant, Jaehyun glanced into your eyes, unsure of what your silence meant. It was killing him. “Please tell me you believe me.”
“I believe you,” you said, because you did. You had no reason to doubt Jaehyun. Plus you hadn’t known him to press his luck with anything other than weed in the time that you’d known each other. 
“Thank god,” Jaehyun sighed in relief. “Does this change things between us?”
You shook your head. “No. I thought you were a good guy before and I still think you’re a good guy now. Nothing is new.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Jaehyun rested his head on your shoulder and mumbled with obvious melancholy, “Trusting me.”
You laced your fingers through Jaehyun’s, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always trust you.”
That warmed Jaehyun’s heart and he sat there wondering what he had done to deserve you. It felt like there was a burden lifted from his shoulders. 
The day went on, bleeding into night. You expected Jaehyun to want to go somewhere to celebrate his birthday, but he reassured you that he was more than content to spend it indoors with you.
Still, it made you a little sad and you tried your best to cloak your gloomy emotions with your affections. You didn’t want Jaehyun to know, but you were thinking about how nice it would’ve been to do something as simple as go out together. 
Reasonably, you were shocked when Jaehyun said, “I want to try out this Japanese restaurant with you next weekend.”
You blinked. “You want to go out… with me?” you asked, making sure you weren’t mistaken. 
Jaehyun nodded, enthusiastic. “Is that a bad idea?”
“What if we get caught together?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Of course it is. You don’t have anything to lose,” you said, but your tone was humorous.
Jaehyun replied without hesitation, “I have you to lose.”
You were sold. Those five words were all you needed to hear.
There was a ginormous beaming smile on your face when you both finally decided to call it a night and you fell asleep with a certain soreness in your cheeks. 
Jaehyun stayed up a little later than you had. Not on purpose, but it was impossible to rest his eyes when he was distracted by your sleep patterns. Your soft snores and the way your hand curled over his stomach. 
It was the sheer opposite of annoying. It was intoxicating. 
He was the one clinging to you when you roused from bed after sunrise. You felt bad for slipping away like a thief in the night, but in your defense, it was daytime and you had to be in your professor’s classroom for attendance. 
After washing up and tossing on a spare outfit you had in Jaehyun’s room for events like these, you scribbled an apologetic note that he would surely find on his nightstand and quietly crept downstairs with a sadness weighing on you now that you had to leave. 
And surely enough, Jaehyun woke up to the note and smiled like a dumbass when he rubbed his eyes and read it to himself. 
Good morning, sleeping handsome. I’m gonna miss you today, but I have an early afternoon class that I have to pass to graduate. You sleep like deadweight, by the way. I had to fight out of your arms and you didn’t notice. See you next weekend. Call me. 
Jaehyun crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower, but he could tell that you’d obviously already taken one with a single simple glance, and he was wishing you had invited him to join you. 
Now he sounded like a guy. Which was fair, because he was one. 
You raced home after class ended. Though you had more than enough exams that it would’ve been a good idea to study for, the main thing on your mind was plugging in the flash drive Jaehyun had gifted you, because you still were dying to know what was on it. 
It was safe to say that a song was the last thing you were expecting. 
You froze on your bed, unsure of how to feel. Everything hit you hard. The wistful yet romantic lyrics, the softness of his voice. Jaehyun was pouring his heart out to you, opening up to you about his feelings the best way he knew how. 
There was a ripple of emotions bursting through you. The lyrics were a little too sentimental for you to attempt to convince yourself that this wasn’t Jaehyun’s idea of a love confession. Maybe you’d known all along, but you didn’t want to accept it, because you knew that it wasn’t written in the stars. 
Now you had no choice. 
You sat there and cried. God, it was a beautiful song and that only made the tears drip even harder. You were bemused and overwhelmed. Bemused that he had obviously taken a lot of time out of his busy life to sit there and record a song for you, and overwhelmed by everything else. 
Jaehyun loves me. Jaehyun really loves me, you thought, admitting it to yourself. And it scared you to death, because you loved him too. 
Then the day came for you to hang out at the restaurant. It was the first time you and Jaehyun actually spent time together outside of his house. The meetup on the bridge and the incident at Jeno’s house didn’t count. Those were merely instances you’d happened to cross paths. 
When Jaehyun came up behind you in a back hug while you were waiting for him (you were embarrassingly early), you didn’t jolt or startle, relaxing into his touch without sparing him a glance first. Nobody else would be wearing his sexy ass cologne. 
You didn’t mention the song or acknowledge the obvious romantic tension between you at all, much to Jaehyun’s disappointment. But he knew you definitely took the flash drive back home. It wasn’t on the coffee table when he went downstairs, meaning you had grabbed it on your way out.   
He couldn’t help but wonder if you had listened to it and vividly pictured your reaction, but Jaehyun knew it would be pointless obsessing over the thought if he wasn’t going to ask. 
The truth was that you were conflicted. Your heart wanted Jaehyun, but you were rational and knew it was ridiculous. There was no point in setting yourselves up for more useless heartbreak. 
But you had fun with Jaehyun in that restaurant. You didn’t want to admit it, but it was the closest thing to a date you would ever have with him. You talked and held hands underneath the table like the pair of lovers you hoped you were in another life. 
Your insatiable lovesick heart was aching for more. And the worst part was that Jaehyun was oftentimes right there in your arms but had never felt further. 
It wasn’t until you were unfortunately back home and walking through the front door that you read aloud the text you’d received from Johnny. We need to talk. I’ll be home in an hour. “Well, that cannot be good,” you mumbled to yourself. 
“It isn’t.”
You jolted in alarm. You didn’t know Johnny was home, though it had most definitely been well over an hour. Jaehyun was too interesting for you to even think about touching your phone once. 
Given the familiar less than content glare on Johnny’s face, you fought a groan, wondering what you could’ve possibly done now when you’d been on your best behavior lately. You lilted in the usual tone you used when you wanted to get out of trouble, “Hi, my handsome big brother that I love dearly.”
Johnny, obviously not in the mood, snapped, “Taeyong saw you with Jaehyun today. You wanna explain that to me?”
That was the last thing you expected him to say and the shock was plain on your face. “What?”
Johnny shook his head, unsurprised that you were acting clueless, and though he was furious he tried not to raise his voice. “Don’t play dumb. Are you dating him - fucking him?”
“I’m not dating him, we’re just…,” you trailed in frustration, realizing that you’d been caught. “Shit, yeah. I’ve fucked him and we’re hanging out.”
Johnny blew out a long, exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe this. God, my own sister.”
Tears threatened. At this point, you were desperate. Your whole world was crashing down without warning. You wished you would’ve at least seen the text and braced yourself. “Johnny, please. If you gave him a chance, I think you two would really like each other!”
“I could never like him,” Johnny replied viciously, face tensing in fury as if the suggestion was an affront to his entire existence.  
You approached Johnny, somehow mustering the courage to come near him. “Please listen to me, alright? He didn’t do it, Johnny. It wasn’t him!”
Johnny gawked. He couldn’t believe you were defending Jaehyun and took a gigantic step back, wanting to be nowhere near you. He hissed, “Of course that’s what the bastard told you. Did he give you proof?”
Frantic, you shook your head, and it came to you that you only had trust to back Jaehyun’s claims. “No, but...”
Johnny grabbed his keys and interjected, “Stop. Just stop. I don’t even want to see your face right now.”
Your lips were agape when Johnny stormed towards the garage, full of purebred rage and disappointment. 
After a few minutes, the shock started to dull away and you temporarily regained the ability to function, racing upstairs to your bedroom to be inert. You hated the brutal sting splitting you in half. While your thoughts were on pause and you were consumed by emptiness, it was the one thing keeping you from dissociating. 
Sitting there on your bed, knees pressed to your chest and your arms curled around yourself, you couldn’t even cry. It would come, but right now you were trying to process the pain. And in the meantime, you realized what needed to be done.
Two long days later, you were meeting Jaehyun at the bridge one final time. It took nearly forty-eight hours of gathering the courage to pick up your phone, but you had to let him know it was over. That this was goodbye. 
You ran your fingers across the wooden overlook, taking in nature, but even the peaceful noise of your surroundings failed to soothe your heartbreak. 
The sound of tentative footsteps barely drew you from your own head, and you didn’t want to face your visitor. You knew it was Jaehyun. For more reasons than one. 
Though you couldn’t see, Jaehyun had his hands in his pockets. “Am I late?”
“No, you’re perfectly on time. I got here early. I needed time to think,” you replied with a fleeting glance at your watch. 
Jaehyun watched you with unease, a perturbed thud in his heart making it challenging to breathe. This was bad, he knew, and for whatever reason, that fear that he was doomed was unshakable. “What happened?”
“Johnny knows,” you began, finally whipping around. It was the least you could do, knowing you had to break his heart. “Taeyong saw us together. He snitched. Now Johnny wants nothing to do with me.”
Jaehyun’s heart sank. No wonder you hadn’t texted or called him in two days. Aside from inviting him here, that is. “What now?”
“I can’t see you anymore. Johnny already hates me now. If I keep seeing you behind his back, I won’t have a brother anymore. I can’t live with that guilt. That’s why I’ve been running from it for months,” you said quietly. 
Jaehyun stiffened, like a boulder. “We’re giving up? That’s insane! Don’t let him stop us from being together.”
You recoiled, surprised. “Are you asking me to choose you over my brother?”
“No, of course not,” Jaehyun sighed, combing his hands through his hands as he searched for the right words. 
You desperately wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. “You should be with someone who can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone you can hold and kiss outside without any worries. I can’t give you that, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun shook his head. “None of that matters to me. I want to be with you. I don’t care what compromises I have to make.”
“Well, I do,” you whispered sullenly, reminding yourself of everything you had to lose. “It was never going to work. You had to know this. We aren’t Shakespeare characters. Hell, even they don’t get to be happy!”
Jaehyun’s chest was taut with pain. It was usually him that had to tell people the brutal reality of unfortunate situations. And this was how it felt to be on the other side?
Fighting the oncoming threat of tears, you continued, “I’ve enjoyed these past months with you and we’ve made special, unforgettable memories together. But enough is enough. We were gonna have to face the truth one day, and that day is today. It was inevitable. I hope that somehow we can still be friends.”
Jaehyun spat, “I don’t want to be just friends. I can’t be just friends with you. Why don’t you understand that?”
Oh, you did. You really, really did. This was hurting you in ways unimaginable and nothing could’ve prepared you for the moment where you had to set Jaehyun free. 
Not even knowing this day would come. 
“I love you,” Jaehyun confessed for the first time, taking some steps closer to you. The gleam in his eyes killed you. 
Those words were like ice in your veins. Your heart stopped beating. For half a minute, the whole world ceased. You shook your head, sensing a vicious pain returning to you. “You can’t love me.”
Jaehyun switched on a dime and hissed, “You can’t tell me how to feel.”
Denial still crept through your blood. Apparently, it was one of your many talents. Jaehyun’s too. “You’re in love with the idea of me. You just want somebody to love again and maybe I made you realize that, but you don’t love me.”
Jaehyun was trembling. You were trying to diagnose him and he wouldn’t stand for it. “Saying that doesn’t make it true.”
You were defiant. You needed it to be true. There had to be some way to get him to let you go and move on. You didn’t want to resort to cruel methods, but you would if you were rendered optionless. 
Jaehyun continued, “You did make me realize that I wanted love again. But I also realized that I could have it all in you.”
Finally pushed past your limits, you shattered and screamed, “Goddammit, Jaehyun - you can’t have me!”
You turned away, hoping he would let you leave. You didn’t want things to end on even worse terms than they already were. 
But you should’ve known Jaehyun would be relentless. He was a fighter. You were what he wanted, what he loved, and he’d damned if he surrendered without a fight. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to walk away?” 
You rooted in place and exhaled loudly, bristling with frustration. “The fuck do you want me to do, Jay? It’s out of my hands.”
“Talk to Johnny - you know that I didn’t do anything!”
“No, I don’t know anything,” you grumbled, crossing your arms tightly. 
That stunned Jaehyun. You didn’t trust him anymore?
Jaehyun laughed, but it was humorless. Needless to say, he was pissed. “Wow. You gave up the fight before it started, before it was over. You never gave us a chance.”
You walked away. You didn’t have the strength. 
Jaehyun kept prodding. You were unbelievable and he couldn’t stand you right now. “I bet this isn’t just about Johnny. I bet him being your brother is just a cop-out so that you don’t have to trust another guy again.”
Now that stung deep. He was hitting you where it hurt, making sure you understood how badly you had wounded him, and you realized there was a chance he was right and you hadn’t even considered it. You whipped around, snapping, “Fuck you. I wish I never met you.”
Jaehyun watched you disappear behind the thick branches, simmering where he stood. God, he resented the fuck out of you right now. You were accepting defeat, throwing in the towel, and he hated you because of it. 
The seemingly endless months of ignorant bliss were washed down the drain all because you didn’t want to be a little more optimistic. You could’ve had it all together, had you not resigned yourself to being unhappy. You were so hell-bent on being realistic that you closed the door on other possibilities. 
Almost the second you burst through the front door, your tears fell after what felt like an eternity of fighting them back. Johnny and your parents turned to face you with alarm when you paraded through the living room, but you ignored your mother’s questions and made a beeline for your bed. 
Johnny didn’t ask. He already knew, and he was only somewhat satisfied that you had done what should’ve never needed to happen in the first place. 
The days of the week started to bleed into each other. You didn’t talk to Jaehyun for obvious reasons. Johnny, the man whose shoulders you thought would always be there for you to lean on, was ironically giving you the cold shoulder. And  Mark wouldn’t understand even if you explained, though you knew he was available. 
Never had you felt so alone. You had no one to escape to. No one who could comprehend or justify the moral dilemma you forced yourself into. I’ve truly outdone myself. I’ve betrayed my brother, baffled my best friend, and lost my lover back to back. That has to be a world record. 
Seven days marked the longest time you had gone without speaking with Jaehyun since the onset of this private love affair. He didn’t call or text you either, which was understandable. Plus it was what you wanted, or at least that was what you used to think. 
You weren’t sure anymore. Cutting him off was the whole purpose of meeting him, but why did it make you feel so isolated?
It wasn’t that long ago that you did it because you thought it was the right choice, or maybe because you thought it would make things better. But it hadn’t. Now that you had effectively shielded yourself from the universe, you were less free and more lonely. 
And time continued to fly by, days of leaving the house only to attend class and coming back to your room only to collapse into sorrow. 
Johnny felt bad. At night, there were a couple of times where he hovered near your door and heard you sobbing, but he was too petty and spiteful to knock or check up on you. You had stung him too. 
The difference was that when Mike died, you did everything in your power to console Johnny. You gave him the space he needed, of course, but you opened the door for him to talk to you if he wanted and lent him a shoulder to cry on. You bought all his favorite snacks and encouraged him to go outside, even if it was just the backyard. 
Now, you were suffering your own loss, one of many but in a different manner. It wasn’t like you were a bereaved wife, but the agony wasn’t any less excruciating. 
Mark came over whenever he had the extra time to spare every week to check up on you, reminding you that you weren’t as alone as you thought you were, but you still didn’t want to confide in him about your emotions. You were afraid he would unintentionally make you feel more stupid. 
You were a little verklempt. Maybe more than. They said time was the healer of all wounds, but with every week spent without Jaehyun’s familiar musk in the air and dreamy voice in your ear, you felt less and less whole.   
What could you have done to keep him close to you, even if it was just for a little while longer? Maybe if you hadn’t ended on such cold, distant terms, moving on would be easier and you would be happier. You could’ve contentedly looked back on the memories of your last time together knowing you had done everything in your control to make it better. 
But you were worried that that was false. You were worried that Jaehyun was right and this ending was premature. 
It doesn’t matter, premature or not. It was going to end either way. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, you reassured yourself in what you once believed was aggressively honest consolation, but you were starting to question how you could be so certain. 
You told yourself that with the burden of your immoral secrets weighing you down, you and Jaehyun could’ve never been a pair. You knew it wouldn’t last forever. You’d always known. You didn’t expect things to make it this far, but dammit you didn’t expect to have your fun cut short so soon either. 
It wasn’t fair. 
Sometimes you dreamt of what it would be like to hold Jaehyun in your arms without worries, without stolen touches and kisses when nobody was paying attention. 
You sat in the nook at your window, curled up into yourself, thinking only about Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for the stupid secret that unraveled far too damn quickly, maybe none of this would’ve ever happened. Maybe I would have you, with nothing to lose. Nothing to fear.
Fuck, you should’ve been happy. Given how unlucky in love you were, you doubted that you were intended to ever be happy. You hadn’t smiled in an eternity. But Jaehyun made you feel your peak of happiness, as if you had never been more euphoric with anybody else. 
More than once, you had been in love, but never like how you were in love with Jaehyun. Why did things have to become so complicated for the both of us? Why did reality hit like a fucking freight train?
If only you never fell for Jaehyun, never even gave him the time of day, then you wouldn’t be hurting. Your heart was being tortured. 
It took another day of stumbling into the kitchen with dark eye bags after yet another sleepless night of sobbing into your pillows, and Johnny ignoring your existence altogether while he poured himself a mug of coffee, but it finally occurred to you that you couldn’t relive this agonizing cycle over and over. 
You were sick of the pain and the dread. The insufferably cold distance when his bedroom was right down the hall from yours. You were sick of sniveling until you had no more tears left to weep, until you felt totally empty. 
Something had to give. 
To your surprise, and luck, Mark called you a few minutes after you strolled back into your room wordlessly, devising a plan you loathed yourself for not thinking of earlier. “Hey, bestie. Talk to me,” he said. “How you feeling?”
“Like judgment day came early for me, I guess,” you mumbled into the phone, collapsing onto your sheets. 
Mark sighed roughly. “Damn. I was hoping you would feel a little better this week. Johnny said you’re the world’s biggest hermit and it’s kinda depressing.”
That shocked you to your core, but you tried to play it off. “Oh, Johnny’s been talking about me?”
“Well, yeah. I’ve obviously been checking up on the both of you on the regular, and neither of you really wanna open up to me, but Johnny has less of an issue talking about you. Man, he still cares. He’s your brother.”
Your heart was sore. You wished he would tell you that himself. In your own home, to your own brother, you felt like a stranger. 
Tears burned your eyes, but you fought them and lilted playfully, “Oh, my beloved bestie…”
Mark knew that tone and interjected, “Fuck.”
You fought a tiny laugh and continued, “Would you mind doing your best friend a teeny tiny little favor?”
The suggestion alone sounded like bad news and Mark was questioning what he was about to get himself into, because no matter what came out his mouth first, you were his best friend. Of course, he was going to tell you “yes.”
Mark huffed, “Jesus. Ease up on the mischief. Johnny still wants to beat my ass too, you know? He asked me if I knew you were boning Jaehyun and of course I couldn’t lie. I’m a man of God.”
Because you didn’t feel like disputing that statement, you ignored his speech entirely and asked knowingly, “Your dad’s a cop, isn’t he?”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
Your voice was maybe a little hopeful. “Is there a way that he can look into the investigation of Mike’s overdose?”
Mark knew exactly why you were asking and even he was ashamed he hadn’t thought of the little plan. There was a brief pause before he said, “I’ll call you back.” And then he hung up. 
You were a little tense sitting there on your bed waiting around for a phone call. Not because you were worried about Mark not doing it, which would be ridiculous because you both wanted what was best for Johnny. It was because you were scared of not having a solution.
Deciding it would be useless to sit around antsily, you took a well-deserved nap after a restless twenty-four hours of no sleep. It would only do you good. Even if Mark didn’t have the answers you wanted, your grades would thank you.
Sleep came easy. Though they weren’t Jaehyun’s, it was nice and peaceful bunched beneath your blankets. You flipped your pillow over to the side that wasn’t stained with tears and let darkness take the wheel. 
Johnny peeked inside your room after an hour or two, wanting to talk to you, but when he saw you comfortably snoozing in your bed and obliviously clinging onto a spare pillow for dear life, he backed away and shut the door. He knew you needed the rest. 
You jolted awake when your phone started to ring vehemently beside your head, cursing yourself for not turning on Do Not Disturb before immediately remembering why you didn’t, and quickly lifting the phone to answer gruffly, “Hello?”
“Good news,” Mark started, sounding suspiciously chipper. “I had my dad pull some strings. And you’re gonna wanna hear this.”
Sitting up, you exclaimed in an impatient whisper, “Well?”
“Jeong Jaehyun is not a suspect, for one. There were witnesses that confirmed him giving Mike his fix was impossible. But for two, the case reopened a few months ago and they’re literally about to bust the guy that did it. They’re waiting on a warrant. You’ve got great timing,” Mark said. 
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief. “What the hell?”
“Isn’t this good news?”
“Yeah, it is,” you whispered, too shocked to know how to feel. You didn’t think the stupid plan would really work. “Thank you, Mark.”
Mark was quick to reassure you, “You don’t need to thank me. You’re my best friend and Johnny is like my brother-in-law in some weird way. See, that sounds weird. Anyways, when do you plan on telling him?”
You laughed at his rambling, but hummed when you thought about his question. “Uh, would today be a bad time?”
“The sooner the better.”
You sighed in relief. Then, you donned the loveliest tone you could muster, and asked sweetly, “Will you come with me please? I think your presence will really help.”
Mark retorted, “Should I bring the entire police force too?”
You rolled your eyes and begged, “Come on, Mark. You’re my bestie and I need you. He’s more mad with me than he is with you and plus you have the benefit of a credible father.”
“I was already on my way,” Mark chirped, jiggling his keys loudly before hanging up. 
You giggled. What would you do without that boy? He was your ride or die. 
Fifteen minutes later, Mark was pulling into your driveway and hopping out of the car. You let him in, locking the door behind your best friend and embracing him in the biggest hug of his life. You needed the comfort to wean off your nerves. 
The last thing you expected was for Johnny to come trudging down the stairs within the very next minute. 
You released Mark, turning to your brother, and you and Johnny said in unison, “Hey, I really need to talk to you.”
Johnny blinked in surprise. It almost seemed like he was mirroring you. Mark snickered to himself, mumbling something about you two obviously being related, but Johnny was chill and said, “You can go first.”
You heaved a breath. It was a shock that Johnny deliberately chose to speak to you for the first time, presumably without the intervening influence of your parents’ rebuttal on your behalf. “I don’t know how to say this, but first I wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry for sneaking around with Jaehyun behind your back. It was a really shitty thing for me to do.”
Johnny nodded along, listening. 
“But I fell in love with him,” you said without hesitation. “And I’m not going to ask you to accept us or anything. That’s your choice. But I thought there was something you should know that’s bigger than Jaehyun and I.”
Johnny looked tense, but he encouraged you to go on. “Okay.”
It felt like the whole world was watching you with Johnny’s eyes carefully set on your face, but you didn’t let it stop you from continuing, “It really wasn’t him that gave Mike his supply, and yes we have proof. Mark’s dad not only confirmed it wasn’t him, but they’re working on getting him into custody.”
Mark nodded, standing right behind you. Like he was vouching for you the same way you’d vouched for him all these years. “It’s true, Johnny. It wasn’t Jaehyun. It was some random shady dealer that preys on addicts at these parties. He has a track record.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered. “It really wasn’t Jaehyun?”
Mark shook his head. “He’s innocent, dude.”
Johnny fell silent for a long time. You could see him stiffening, penitent. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. “I feel like shit now.”
You snorted. “Don’t do that to yourself. Please. I’ve felt like shit enough these past few weeks for the both of us.”
“About that,” Johnny began, getting whiplash. The look on his face was gentle, remorseful, and he hated himself for being anything else to his sister. To the last person that deserved his misplaced frustration. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for freezing you out.”
“Johnny…,” you trailed. 
Johnny shook his head. He needed you to let him say this. “I know you’ve had a rough few weeks, and though I haven’t exactly been pleased with you, you’re still my sister. The least I could’ve done was ask you ‘how are you doing?’ but I couldn’t even be bothered.”
You sighed loudly. That was true. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in the wounds. 
“I haven’t done a good job at showing it, but I care for you. You’re my only sibling and let’s be honest, I don’t think I’ll be getting another one,” Johnny said lightheartedly. 
You snickered. Damn right. You knew your parents would vehemently agree if they were here. They couldn’t be happier that all of their kids were adults. Well, maybe if you moved out. 
Johnny breathed in some air. A lot of mistakes had obviously been made on both parts and he was ready to put it all behind him. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I forgot to do what was more important. Be your brother. And I’ll apologize for the rest of my life until you forgive me.”
“No need. I forgive you right now,” you whispered, simpering. 
Johnny stood there like a dumbass, hesitant. He didn’t feel like he deserved your forgiveness and would be spending the next weeks repairing his relationship with you, doing whatever it took. 
You took the lead, starting reluctantly, “Listen. I know Mike’s passing has been hard on you, Johnny. That’s why you want to protect me and everything else you love in your life, but I’m an adult. You need to let me take care of me.” 
A cloud of melancholy hung over Johnny and it wouldn’t leave. The grief was still fresh, as if Mike had died yesterday. 
You stepped forward, placing a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “And you’re my big brother. I’ll obviously still give you a call when I’m going through a rough time. But you have to respect that I’m my own person.”
Johnny nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about all that too. I’ll be better.”
“I will too,” you said, because the truth was that it was time the two of you started making efforts. 
Johnny grabbed you in his arms and pulled you into a gigantic bear hug. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, and breathed easier in relief as weeks worth of wounds vanished. 
Wincing your eyes closed, you let yourself be content in your brother’s loving embrace for the first time in a while. You needed this. 
You could barely feel yourself breathe when Johnny started to hug you so tightly you thought he might accidentally squeeze the life out of you. “Alright, chill, Johnny. I think I might die,” you wheezed.
Johnny released you with a chuckle. You gasped for breath, shaking your head. Though the bone-crushing hug was appreciated nonetheless. 
Mark was content to be in the background and cheered in awe, “I’m so proud of you guys. You overcame your differences and reunited like real siblings. I knew it would happen eventually, but dude, this is refreshing to see.”
You nodded in agreement. One less broken relationship. But you had another one to salvage before it was too late. 
Then, Mark remembered Johnny was none too thrilled that he was complicit in you getting away with your sneaky little secret and asked, “Yo, Johnny, are we good?”
“No.”
Mark gawked. 
“I’m kidding,” Johnny said with a teasing lilt. “We’re good, man.”
Mark exhaled in relief. “Thank god.”
You smiled to yourself. You were happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from your life. 
Johnny clamped a hand onto your shoulder and said, “Go get him.”
You gasped, but you didn’t question how he knew. He just did. It was a sibling thing. “You mean it?”
“Yes. You said it yourself. You love him, and I have no reason to come between that anymore. You deserve to be happy after dating asshole after asshole,” Johnny told you (sort of) kindly. 
You snickered, and grabbed your keys from your pockets. “Pray for me. He’s not gonna be thrilled.”
Johnny shook his head, disagreeing. “Yeah, he will. Tell him that I’m very sorry, but the threat to kick his ass still stands if he fucks with you.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know,” you deadpanned, heading for the door. 
The drive to Jaehyun’s house was inexplicably anxious. You could still think, but every thought went by at the speed of a thousand miles per second. And it didn’t help that you were overthinking the entire situation, dreading the endless amount of “what ifs.”
For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know if he would be there. You were showing up unannounced, uninvited. What if he had already found another woman to keep him company in your forgettable absence?
Then, you were at his front doorstep. And you had no time to vividly imagine every possible scenario, because Jungkook answered your knocks and you could only barely see inside. 
You politely greeted him in a small voice and asked, “Can I come inside?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t waste any time in snapping, “Why should I let you in after you broke my friend’s heart?”
“Because I’m sorry and I want to set things right with him,” you said, matching his lack of hesitation. 
Yugyeom hurried over and took the lead, widening the door for you to enter and whining dramatically, “Oh, god. Please come in. Fix him. Do your womanly magic and bring him back to life. I’m sick of his brooding ass.”
You wanted to laugh, but you hated the thought of causing Jaehyun all this suffering. If it was anything like the kind you’d been through lately, you knew he was in a tough spot. 
Thanking Yugyeom, you made a beeline for the stairs, rushing up them like Jaehyun would somehow know it was you approaching them and slip away before you could get the chance to apologize. 
You knocked on Jaehyun’s door, but you guessed he really wasn’t expecting you to come over, because he shouted exasperatedly, “Jesus, Yugyeom. Fuck off.”
“It’s not Yugyeom,” you called back. “It’s me.”
All you could hear was silence. Then there was a shuffle, and a few moments later the door clicked unlocked and Jaehyun was standing before you in all his glory. “What are you doing here?”
“I walked to talk,” you replied timidly, struggling to maintain eye contact. 
Irritated, Jaehyun huffed, “We already had a conversation.” Though the truth was that he was glad you were here, standing in front of him again. He was borderline miserable without you in his life. 
The reminder of your final exchange with Jaehyun made you wince in shame. “I know, but I wanted to apologize. Won’t you at least hear me out?”
Jaehyun turned to return to his bed, reminding sharply, “You’re the one that walked away. I was willing to at least try to make us work, but you didn’t even want to do that.”
“Because I thought it would be useless,” you admitted, giving chase and shutting the door behind yourself. “But I don’t anymore. You were right. I should’ve fought for us and I regret not doing it earlier.”
Jaehyun might’ve acted like he wasn’t listening, being totally dismissive, but he definitely noticed your specific use of language. “You said ‘earlier.’ What do you mean?”
You had a beaming smile on your face as you admitted, “I mean, I talked to Johnny about us. I managed to get him to listen to me and proved your innocence. Thank god Mark’s father is a cop.”
Jaehyun softened. “You did all that? Why?”
“Because you’re worth fighting for,” you whispered tenderly, looking at Jaehyun like he was your entire universe. 
Jaehyun was so close to accepting that he would never have anyone look at him that way again. After a heartbreak, the feeling of being unlovable always loomed over his head and you were no different. But dammit if he wasn’t tired of the doubts. 
Tentatively, you came towards Jaehyun completely, sitting beside him on his mattress that you missed almost as much as you missed him. “I didn’t mean it, when I said I wish I never met you.”
Jaehyun almost laughed. That was the least hurtful thing to leave your lips. “I know. You were upset. And you had every right to be.”
You frowned, suspicious of how calm he was. You half expected him to lash out. “Stop being understanding.” 
“If you’re expecting me to be angry, I can’t do anything for you. I’ve already spent the past few weeks in that stage of grief.”
You blinked. It was as if he could read your mind. “Where are you at now?”
Jaehyun was totally indifferent when he told you, “Bargaining.”
“Funny. Me too,” you sighed. If only you had been more open-minded, you could have spared you and Jaehyun all this worthless misery. 
You noticed that Jaehyun said nothing, but he looked a little in his head. And he was somewhere up there, scolding himself for letting him be a fool for you, then thinking, I couldn’t resist loving you. Sue me. 
The emotion was finally surfacing on his face. You could see all of it now. The distress and the love and the heartache. You smirked, thinking to yourself, He’s my little damsel now. 
The grin on your lips was fleeting and it disappeared by the time you grabbed Jaehyun’s hands in yours and he peered down at you in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you told him softly. “I thought you were crazy and hopeless for thinking we could be together. Now, I see that you didn’t want to quit until you’d exhausted your resources. And I forced your hand. I’m sorry.”
Jaehyun squeezed your hand. “It’s okay. I understand where you were coming from. You were trying to make things as painless as possible because you genuinely thought we didn’t stand a chance against fate.”
“And somehow I made shit ten times more painful,” you murmured, ashamed. 
“Like I said, I understand where you were coming from,” Jaehyun said, being gentler than he should’ve. 
You shook your head. That meant nothing. “But do you forgive me?”
Jaehyun gazed into your pained eyes. It still broke him, but he was starting to lick the wound clean. Things were changing. “Yes. I forgive you, baby.”
Your heart softened at the pet name. You never expected to fall for Jaehyun. Not Jaehyun or his precious smile and adorable face. Not the little things he’d say that made you feel as if you would burst with love. 
But you did fall for him, and all those little things that made him himself. And you didn’t want to be without them ever again. 
“I’m tired of loving each other behind closed doors. I want to be seen with you. I want to go to museums and look at really abstract paintings that you’ll tell me are meaningful for whatever reason. I want to explore the city with you and visit shops I’d never think to go to otherwise.”
Jaehyun was sporting a beaming smile. “You said you love me.”
“I haven’t said it before?”
Jaehyun huffed, “No. Not even once.”
You held his face, cradling it just shy of yours, and confessed, “Then, I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Jaehyun. I don’t know what to do without you.”
“I love you too,” Jaehyun said, leaning in to mumble the tiny confession into your neck, and reminded of how desperately he craved the warmth of your skin. 
You were grinning so hard your cheeks were hurting. 
“Don’t leave me ever again. Don’t ever let me go. Never,” Jaehyun instructed you sharply, and although it was partly muffled, you heard him loud and clear.
“I won’t,” you told him, kissing his forehead. “If you play me that song you made me on your guitar.”
Jaehyun blinked up at you in surprise. “You liked it?”
“I think I’ve cried to it, like, a million times,” you admitted unabashedly. 
Jaehyun’s jaw went slack for only a split second, then he quickly recovered and leapt up to grab his guitar from its resting position in the corner of his room. 
A smile danced onto your lips as he held the guitar, strumming to the beautiful song he’d written with only his insurmountable adoration for you in mind, and the pining nature of the lyrics made you realize that the yearning was over. You were Jaehyun’s. And Jaehyun was yours. 
Losing Jaehyun, one of the few people you loved depthlessly, was like losing the last person you had. You didn’t know how to be without him. And you didn’t have to learn, because you never would be without him again. 
You watched him attentively, beaming from ear to ear, taking in his beautiful smile and soft voice, and familiar heady cologne. And you thought to yourself, There’s nothing to dislike about this guy. 
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cherryrikis · 2 months ago
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EVERYTHING BUT NOTHING
PAIRING football captain bf jake x fem reader
WARNINGS swearing, arguments, jake makes a singular joke about killing himself
GENRE angst
SYNOPSIS jake is just the nicest guy, everyone knows that. and he’s even sweeter as a boyfriend rather than an acquaintance. even after an argument, you could never stay mad at him for long. but you question that when you hear him talking about you after school.
read part 2 here ?
“are you gonna talk to jake? i know that argument was pretty intense, but you’ve gone a week with no contact.” yuna asked as she tilted her head, standing by your locker while she waited for you to grab your belongings.
“eventually, yeah. i was thinking today after school. the thing with jake though, he either shuts down, or acts like it never happened whenever i want to talk about an argument.” you sighed.
it’s true. as open as jake may appear to be, it’s all but factual. you could never have a real talk with your boyfriend, because he hated confrontation. avoided it entirely.
typically, you don’t let arguments get in the way of your relationship. especially since living together is hard if you’re having frequent conflicts. it wasn’t too much of a problem now though, since he’s been staying at jay’s. but when you brought up the fact that he’s been spending too much time at practice, and that he always forgets your dates, jake let it all out.
it shouldn’t have been as big of a problem as it was. you just wanted to talk. but he finally argued back.
“i get it. sohee is exactly the same! don’t stress though. i know jake is a good guy, he’ll come around.” she smiled. “now let’s go to class? passing period is almost over, and yizhuo has been saving our seats.”
the lecture seemed to go by faster than usual. you were nervous as you steadily approached jake’s locker, which was directly outside his last class.
but when you heard his oh too familiar voice, you stopped in your tracks. you felt your heart sink to the floor as your stomach dropped.
“god. guys, don’t ever get a girlfriend. i’m bounded to long walks on the beach and dinner dates till i die. y/n’s demanding too much of me. i might just kill myself one day.” jake sighed.
“okay but dude, your girlfriends cool and all yet she’s lowkey uptight.” you heard heeseung say as he slapped jake’s shoulder.
“yeah man, you’ve been missing too much practice for your dates now. coach is getting upset. i saw yours and y/n’s texts the other day, and she micromanages you a lot. blink twice if you need help.” sunghoon joked as the three of them laughed out loud.
“i know, i know. i love y/n, but i cannot with her lately. thank god jay let me crash at his after the argument, because i couldn’t live with her constant nagging. she’s so fucking annoying.” he snickered. but, all their faces fell once they saw you.
you slammed jake’s locker door shut with so much force, your hand turned bright red. him and sunghoon flinched harshly, while heeseung and jay had no reaction.
your face ran hot, you felt it as you tightly closed your eyes, holding back the urge to burst out crying. the glass tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.
but one look at his desperate eyes filled with regret, and you tipped over the edge. your salty tears spilled out, past your lashes.
you sniffled as you continued to cry uncontrollably, staring at their flustered faces. jake reached out to wipe your face, but you pushed his hand away, wiping the tears yourself.
“you fucking asshole.” you whispered. “i came here to apologize. but you can’t leave it be.”
“y/n..” his eyes softened, voice faltering as his words were laced with regret and shame. he reached out for you once more, but you stepped back.
the distance between you two physically and emotionally only continued to grow. “baby, just let me talk. like you wanted.” he pleaded, begging, almost.
“i.. hate you.. how could you ever talk about me like that? i never once would even think about saying something like that about you, like you did me.” you scoffed, looking behind him as you finally realized his friends left the scene.
you watched as his eyes watered, with one last attempt of trying to reach you. but he knew you were untouchable in this moment.
“sweetheart?” he watched as you began to walk backwards, away from him.
but you didn’t let up, still hurt. you shook your head, silently telling him no.
with every step you took backwards, jake moved forward, before finally grabbing your wrists tightly so you can’t leave him.
“it costs nothing to be a sweet guy, like the version everyone sees of you. but it takes everything to be an asshole.” you mumble, before pushing him away, finally and surely leaving out the school’s glass doors.
and jake remained there, his regret suddenly transferred into anger. he kicked his locker, watching the metal rattle.
he hated how his such childish and immature words cost nothing yet everything.
“fuck..” he muttered.
“fuck!” jake said once more, but louder, yelling it out loud.
he watched out the window as you walked towards the parking lot, before getting into your car and leaving without a second thought.
“please don’t leave me.” he whispered as his vision turned blurry.
“please don’t leave me..”
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago
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The Invisible String Theory
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PAIRING: König x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You didn't expect the man who gave you his coat to be the same one to bust down the door where you and the other women slept - sniper hood scaring everyone within an inch of their life. You didn't expect him to become so important to you, either. (Based on König's in-game backstory).
WORDCOUNT: 9.2k
WARNINGS: Human trafficking, mentions of unwanted touching, trauma, blood, gore, guns, bullets, protective!König, soft!König, nightmares, mentions of bullying, etc.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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'DATE: 25, NOVEMBER, 2021
LOCATION: BERLIN, GERMANY
TIME OF EVENT: 0230
MISSION REPORT: PENDING….'
You don’t remember much from the day that could be called out of the ordinary. Ever since you’d been moved here with the other girls, everything was predictable down to the time the men would come over, to the point where the screams had to be muffled by pillows. 
Never in your life did you think you’d be part of the nearly fifty million people stuck in this situation, and neither did you think you’d be the one in one hundred who got out. But before you can think about November twenty-fifth and those pale gray eyes, you have to go back to the beginning. To Al-Qatala. 
You hadn’t been with this cell initially—you’d been moved around and bartered off more times than you could count; the initial founder of your predicament was long gone at this point. North and South America, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Oceania…you’d been practically everywhere and on every continent barring the obvious last. In Europe, you couldn’t name the countries, but you knew this for a fact: you’d never been to Germany before. 
They had you with five other women in a large SUV in the beginning, this international ring of human traffickers. You had watched from the window, face blank and eyes unblinking, at the men who met near the docks. They had brought you in through Hamburg, first—not only the largest seaport in Germany but the third largest in Europe; you think you read that on a flier at some point. One of those flimsy ones that you find in gas stations with bright lettering to attract the tourists with their interesting facts. 
You wished you were only a tourist. 
You’d watched the men shake hands, and that was when you knew your fate, as well as that of the five other women, was sealed. You were going to all be here for a long time. 
This Al-Qatala cell was ruthless, but you supposed with being around terrorists, ruthlessness was better than being executed. 
For days you’d be exploited with the false promises of moments of freedom, breaks, food, and water. For some of the women it was drugs or money, but when your stomach was empty and your eyes blurring from lack of sleep, even addictions seemed to pale for brief hours. But above it all was the threat of death at every corner. These men would kill you. 
It was only a matter of time unless you could give them what they wanted. 
You yourself had developed a system, and it was probably the only reason you were still alive. Pick one of the handlers, gain his favor, and pray that he treats you specially while you keep up the act of a mindless, weak, woman. 
Ivon was the man’s name this time around. Born and raised here in Berlin before the clutches of his fanatical ideations brought him to Al-Qatala. You hated him.
Hated his touch—hated his scent and how he talked; every bit of him was corrupted like a black dog at a crossroads, always leading people down the wrong path. Your only saving grace was that he was stupid. The other girls called you Cat—said you managed to nuzzle up to someone and soon after got them to give you what you wanted. Everything you wanted except freedom, that was.
You didn’t deny that Ivon did give you privileges, but that was the point. About a week into your stay in Berlin, he allowed you to go into public with him. Arm-candy.
A doll. 
The townhouse you’d been stuck in had disappeared into a spec behind the rearview mirror, the chilled air from outside making you shiver at the lack of heat and the thin shawl you’d been thrown. No jacket. 
The care of your health only extended to how well you were able to work—at the moment you were relatively healthy despite the bulge of bruises and constantly shell-shocked look behind your eyes.
But the trip—the trip. You supposed that was when it had fully started, and you didn’t even realize it before you saw those gray eyes again. 
“Come,” Ivon orders, holding tightly to your arm and dragging you along from the corner shop without making a scene. Your hands loosely brush the wrack of clothes, fabric soft under your fingertips as it sways. 
Fixing your shawl, you try to burrow your neck into it, gaining what little heat is available to you. It was cold out—you were shivering. People send looks, eyes tight as they shift up and down your form, but no one ever says anything. To be this bold, this cell had to have been at this for a long, long time. The realization didn’t make you feel any better. 
That was when you first saw him. 
You were standing outside a coffee shop, quivering like a newly hatched butterfly, Ivon making a call only a few feet away with fast motions of his arms. It was hard not to make a run for it right then and there; hard not to take those few seconds of open air and dash away—start screaming and yelling until the authorities came. 
It would save yourself, but what about the others? They wouldn’t be so fortunate, you’d be sentencing them to death. None of this was simple—it needed to be thought out. Two games of chess being played at the same time.
The irony of it was that König had been off-duty that day. It had been a shot in the dark. 
“Are you alright?” A thick Austrian accent makes you flinch as it appears beside your right ear, grating.
Your eyes snap to the side, moving one foot back as you blink wildly up at the blue-gray orbs that would become a staple. You liked to call it as everyone else did—the invisible string theory. A theory that stated that the universe connected people who were destined to meet one day. Through thick or thin waters, it was inevitable. He was inevitable. 
“Yes,” you say quickly, holding your hands tightly around you. The man ahead of you was tall, almost startlingly so, with muscles more bulky than a boulder and his buzz-cut head open to the chilled breeze. He wore a surgical mask over his lower visage, his hoodie under the thick material of a canvas jacket. “Yes,” you say again, hearing Ivon’s voice behind you still on the phone. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Gray eyes furrow slightly, gaze darting over your head. 
“Are you…sure, Ma’am?” 
“Thank you for your concern,” you fake laugh, eyes pained, backing up farther. That invisible string snaps into place, pulling tight at only those few simple words. 
His stature made you slightly nervous—large, intimidating; those hands could do quite the damage if given the chance. Your eyes had hit and bounced off the identity discs at his chest with little thought, too preoccupied to notice the fact that he was in the Service.
König’s eyes had narrowed softly, dark brows minutely moving in.
Ivon hangs up his phone. 
“Can I help you?” He asks, coming up and sliding a hand around your waist. The man had stared at him for a long minute, and you had felt Ivon tense slowly at the unblinking eye contact. 
This stranger had commented in German a long string of frim words, hands going to his jacket and grabbing at the arms—he slips out of it while still uttering. 
Before you can react, the large coat swallows you whole and you snatch at the heat that’s still inside instinctually, now only realizing how much you were shivering. Your body sags into the weight of the fabric, the scent of sweat and coffee. 
You don’t even pay attention to the growing tones, shocked. People look over to the two fast words being tossed.
Yet it could only last so long. 
Ivon’s hand latches onto the side of your arm, beginning to drag you back and away from this kind stranger like a lap dog while throwing curses behind him. Gray eyes meet yours as old shoes skid and stumble. 
König had taken a firm step towards you that day, his body tense and his hands clenched at his side—ready to do anything on a moment's notice should you ask for it. But all you do is stare, jaw loose, and the given coat still on your shoulders. You just couldn’t understand why he would do that. 
The stranger gets swallowed by the crowd, and just like that, he’s gone. 
That was all it had been; a moment—a few mere seconds in the large plot that was this almost impossible tale. You were glad it had been him, or else the events of the future could have been very different. 
Of course, they hadn’t let you keep the jacket, but the memory was enough to warm you for days even as old pains faded and new ones took their place. 
But those gray eyes would help you in the future, like a guardian; a protector in your dreams as you watched the snow fall from the sliver of outside light in your room with the others. Your mattress was on the floor like the rest, thin blankets and clouds of cold breath wafting up from sleeping forms. 
This was the time it happened, and you’d just woken up to find the curtains shifting as one of the women near it moved in her sleep. Shadows slip past, the light interrupted as it shifts over your tired face with broken fractures. 
You were always kept on the ground floor. 
'CLEARANCE: APPROVED 
TRANSLATING MISSION REPORT ‘RED FREEDOM’…
STAND BY…
Operation Red Freedom took place on November twenty-fifth, 2021, at approximately 0230 in the neighborhood of [REDACTED], at the residence of [REDACTED], Berlin, Germany. A squad of ten highly trained [REDACTED] personnel covertly entered the residence in two teams of five. Fireteam One advanced from the back entrance while Fireteam Two entered the residence from the balcony at the top floor, accessed via ladder.
Squad Leader [REDACTED], part of Fireteam One, set foot in the residence of [REDACTED] at approximately 0238 and began sweeping the ground floor as Fireteam Two cleared three of twelve known individuals belonging to the terrorist organization, Al-Qatala, on the top floor….'
You shift and shiver, your body trying to warm itself as the world blurs at the sides of your vision. Fingers twitch as your hand goes to wrap your waist, curled into the fetal position, creaking emanates from above you. Blinking softly, you frown and take a quivering breath, head nuzzling the thin mattress. 
“Cold,” you say, the following low exhale of air out of your lips only making it all worse as everything seems to drop another degree. The darkness didn’t help either, only that one line of light trying desperately to fill the room like a bucket descending into a dry well. 
You’re only clothed in the dirty and tattered remains of a large shirt, your legs feeling like they don’t hold any blood in them as they quiver without your knowledge—shaking the blanket above you. A few of the girls had said it would be okay to share, but everyone was afraid of the lock on the door clicking open and the men coming back in and seeing them. In the end, you could only look after yourself.
A thump makes you startle, drooping eyes snapping back open as you gasp. 
Head shifting, you blink rapidly upward to the ceiling, confused as to whether that had been a part of a failing mind or if you’d really just heard a muffled bump upstairs. Brows furrowing, you lightly sit up, hands still around yourself and legs limply outward; spine hunched. 
Your fingers had lost feeling, just as your nose had gone numb, but moving helped a little. Your hands dig into your flesh and your ears twitch at every creak in the wood—every pass of silent feet that suddenly becomes all the clearer as the sheen of fatigue slowly leaves your brain. 
Walking? Small pains move along your body like needles, poking and prodding, but you ignore them as easily as you do the vile hands that had touched you. Survival had forced you into a constant state of self-preservation—pain couldn’t bother you, because if you stopped, you wouldn’t get back going again. 
Your head tilts so you can side-eye the door to the room, sleeping forms all around shifting, singular groaning of tired lungs. But there’s something inside of you that stiffens like a prey animal, and you don’t know why. Inside of your sockets, your eyes hone in, bones stiff and your chest stilling as the grain becomes the most interesting thing to you beyond breathing. 
There was someone….out there. 
Watching, the sides of your vision shadow over to focus harder, your muscles tight. Your mind goes to the thumps from upstairs, the moving feet that sounded far more careful and deliberate than the ones your jailors took care to walk with. 
Inside your ribs, your heart patters a bit faster, adrenal glands sending a certain flight or flight through the few veins you hold that aren’t chilled over.
Something was happening. Something wasn’t right.
Only when you move to shake the shoulder of one of the women sleeping beside you does it happen. 
A yell. 
A scream. 
The girls in the room all startle awake, sounds of concern and shock entering the air that you mirror; faces snapping to the ceiling and the door. The townhouse erupts into gunfire and the sound of slamming wood—a warzone that only is separated from all of you by the thin material of the four walls.
You feel yourself being grabbed and held in fear in the dark, as your open face holds the expression of a rabbit in an open field, looking along the long, hidden grass. 
The sounds persist, loud German shouts going up over the house and echoing with heated fever. This continues for minutes, added in with the sound of doors breaking off hinges, bouncing off the ground, and shaking the foundation so hard that you can feel it reverberate. The women go silent. Stone-still. 
But the gunfire—so much gunfire. The constant pop of assault weapons and a pound of multiple booted feet. 
What was going on? You can't make sense of it, so you only freeze and listen; trying to understand the longer the fight goes on, heart hammering; mouth slack-jawed. And then it’s like it never happened.
Silence. 
You share quick looks with the others, all gripping one another and heads angled to the door. The heavy feet start back up again, coming closer. Your mind slashes to the window across the room, but it’s hard to think beyond the sudden body that shakes the door that leads directly to you all—the women scream, some standing up and racing to the glass with the same idea as you. 
'…Squad Leader [REDACTED], and both Fireteams successfully eliminated all targets inside of the [REDACTED] residence, leaving the room occupied by known hostages last to prevent casualties and/or the usage of bargaining chips. Squad Leader [REDACTED] made contact with hostages at approximately 0244 after the final sweep of the townhouse had been completed and all personnel accounted for.
Local authorities had been contacted by neighbors due to noise but were dismissed.' 
The door busts off its hinges and the room devolves into panicked yells and hurled bits of mattress material. Loud pleas and curses stuck like gums to teeth as they were forced out in fear and bone-crushing terror. You remember pushing back into the wall, many others doing the same, as a beast of a man enters the room with his face covered with a loose fabric hood of some sort. 
Large—brutish. Like a demon walking with the color of black printed over his entire body; gear hangs from a combat vest, hands holding an assault rifle as a sidearm is strapped to his bulging thigh. Forearms the side of your head stays near his chest, and in order to not hit his head on the doorframe, the individual has to bend slightly. Over that hood, the lenses and head-gear of a night-vision rig sit heavily before it’s moved back with a firm hand that is nearly double the size of yours.
A monster.
Your entire being is tight with quivering tension, eyes blinking away tears at the smell of blood that rolls in from the hallway. The women at the window duck down, hands to their heads as if expecting a bullet to carve its way between their skulls. 
“Cat,” one of the ladies behind you mutters, voice quivering. You shush her on bitten lips and move her farther behind you. 
“Don’t speak,” you mutter. “Don’t move.”
You don’t know what you expect, but nothing about this is correct. 
The man raises his hands, the rifle slapping his chest as it hangs from a strap. He speaks in German, and the heavy and fast noise of it makes your already addled head spin. No one answers beyond the slide of their own feet over the hardwood floors.
“Ich heiße König,” his head swivels from one to another, “Sprichst du Deutsch? Irgendjemand?”
You stare blankly, panting. 
After a moment, and a slow step forward from the stranger, he speaks again, though this time, it’s in English. 
“My name is König.” His voice is familiar to you, and you blink in confusion quickly, hidden near the back of the shaking bodies. “I am with the German Military, yes? We have conducted a raid on this residence.” 
Military? Raid? 
“...I am not here to hurt you.” He nears one of the women, beginning to bend down slowly. She squeaks, balking back—making him tense and halt. It didn't matter what he said, König was the epitome of a man who was intimidating on body alone; the gear wasn’t helping. Neither was the hood. 
A soldier appears in the doorway, calling out to him in his native language as you flinch at the noise. 
König calls back calmly, trying to keep an air of gentle strength around him.
The second soldier comes inside, dressed similarly despite the lack of fabric over his visage which instantly puts many at ease again. He clears his throat as König steps back, gargantuan hands coming up to rest at his vest collar as his legs shift. He seems a bit put off at the fearful stares from everyone, rolling his shoulders for a moment as he turns his head to look out of the doorway. 
Your eyes don’t move from him, though. A nagging feeling in the back of your skull. 
“We have to leave this place,” the second soldier tells you all, kneeling and resting a hand over his knee. “We’ll get you medical attention. Food. Water. There’s no need to suffer here any longer, hm? We can see to it that all of you will get the best care that can be provided.” A pause. “We can get you back home.” 
That certainly got the attention that was needed. 
Meek questions started falling out, then louder ones before pandemonium was roused in that tiny room pushed to the very back of the townhouse. Home. It was a word that had almost lost all meaning but was still that constant shining light in the back of everyone’s mind. 
Home.
Did you even have one of those left? 
As the rest of your fellows all got to their feet, taking you with them, you had to think over that fact as the soldier guided them gently out of the room to join the others waiting—trying to answer their questions and get them away from the gore before they saw it. 
You stayed behind, feet shifting over the floor and your lips thin. As the silence settles in, you hold yourself a bit tighter and glance at the mattress all mashed together and stained—those thin blankets as you shiver. 
“Are you alright?” Your head snaps over. 
You’d forgotten about König.
He still stands there, still and with his hands at his collar; he clears his throat softly, speaking up from his low utterance. “Please…do not be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” you say tinily, your voice cracking in the lie. 
You can’t see his eyes—not with the shadow from his hood or his head rig, but you can see the way his skull lightly tilts to the side, trying to see you better in the low light. 
“That is good,” he answers, not convinced. “I’m glad. I did not wish to scare anyone.” He moves back and motions with a hand to the door from where they hang. “Please. It is best not to linger, yes?”  
“Do I…” you hesitate, shivering. “Do I know you from somewhere?” 
König’s face isn’t visible, but you can still sense the feeling of confusion leaking out of him. The man takes a small step closer, and you gaze up at him until his eyes are visible. 
Blue-gray. 
You stare, mouth parting in shock.
König blinks twice, quickly making a noise in the back of his throat at the sight of your eyes gazing into his—the same woman outside of the coffee shop from days ago.
That little invisible string pulls you closer, small millimeter by small millimeter. 
“You?” You both say it at the same time, laced with surprise and shock. 
It’s a long moment of gazing into each other, a battered body and another more strong than an ox. All fear of the man dissipates. 
“You gave me your jacket,” you whisper, still torn up about it. 
König’s hood shifts as he glances back to the door, German speech over the radio strapped to his chest which he takes in and processes in the back of his skull. But he always looks back at you, eyes crinkled with concern and perhaps even a bit of misplaced guilt. 
A protective knife sides into his side.
“Come.” The man reaches out a hand, hovering it over your arm. You stare at the gloved limb for a moment before softly moving towards it with your breath caught in your throat, hesitant. König’s fingers delicately slide over the flesh, not closing around it until he feels your muscles loosen. “...Let’s get you warmer, Schatz, yes?” 
You blink.
“It’s cold here,” you mutter, letting him guide you along, his gray orbs always keeping you in the side of his vision. 
“Yes,” he agrees, nodding. “Very cold. Have you been to Germany during the winter before?”
Your head slightly shakes, bare feet padding along next to the pair of great boots—you lean closer unconsciously to the promise of warmth. König guides you away from the seeping blood on the floor and protects your eyes from the view of the bodies across the room with his own as a guard dog would. 
“No.” He notices your leaning and brings you nearer to him, letting you use him as a brace. The man knows the effects of shock, and you wear it as plainly as any other. “I’ve never been here before.” 
König hums and his free hand goes up to press into the radio, muttering in his native tongue. He releases the connection and asks as he blinks at you, “Do you require any immediate medical attention?” 
Again, you shake your head. 
“Where are the others?” You sink further into him, being guided to the front door, open to the soft snowfall and a chilled wind as your shoulder hunch. 
“Just outside,” König glances at the bodies across the room—the ones he’d riddled with bullets that still twitch even as the minutes draw longer. Gray eyes going from one to another, the house is heavy with the weight of dead men. Twelve in total and all getting colder just like the temperature outside. König didn’t feel bad about it, and when he’d finally busted open that door to find you and the women, he was satisfied with the blood on his hands. If hell were to be his home, he would walk there with a golden-fanged smile. 
But now wasn’t the time for that. 
“I will bring you to them,” the soldier speaks, snow blowing in from the entrance. “Slowly, now, Schatz, watch the steps. Allow me to help.”
You stop at the doorway, bringing a hand to your mouth to cover a haggard cough as König makes his way down the first concrete step ahead of you—large armored vehicles had pulled up from a ways away. The women huddle around one another, the rest of the soldiers sticking by them and opening the doors to the vehicles as the night gets only more cold and stormy.  
Gray eyes flicker for a moment down to your lack of proper protection, fingers twitching and tapping at his thigh as König remembers your expression the day he’d first met you. 
“Do you want me to carry you?” He says slowly, cautious in his approach. The man wasn’t stupid—he wouldn’t touch you unless you explicitly stated it was alright for him to do so. “I will be gentle, I promise. I do not wish for your feet to freeze, I...” He pauses as you blink, staring into his soul. “I…will not touch you if you do not tell me to do it. You have my word.” 
You continue to stand there for a moment, face unreadable before your head slowly turns to the vehicles in the street. 
The neighborhood was so normal it still caused you to wonder how no one had spoken up and seen something. Rows of connected houses now with their lights on—faces peeking from the windows like little children on Christmas morning; trying to get glimpses of Santa and the man’s reindeer. 
Finally, your gaze moves back to the hooded visage of König, able to see it better under the moonlight and the glare of falling snowflakes—a few of those frozen pieces sitting in the folds of the fabric.
“The hood scared them,” you utter about the others. König stiffens a bit, blinking at you but not looking away. “They’re used to people trying to hide their faces, but yours…with how large you are…”
“I understand.” König doesn't tear away his eyes. “...Did I scare you, Schatz?”
You don’t know why, but for what seems like the first time in years, the question makes you giggle. The beast of a man goes still with his feet on the ground, usually jittery and moving body captivated by the sound as it echoes over the night’s air—the puff of your breath as it moves around his hood; rustling it like leaves on a tree. 
Eyes widening only a sliver more, König’s breath is in his throat.
It was like listening to a bird’s song.
“Maybe only a little,” you whisper to him. “But it’s okay. I’m scared of most things.” 
He licks his lips, but you’re unable to see the slight quirk of them afterward. 
“Then I will make it up to you, yes?” He holds out a hand. “Let me? The car is warm and your friends are waiting for you. My men say they ask about your health.”
You softly nod, the shadow of the house trying to drag you back into it—its blackened arms reaching and latching onto old scars. When your hand connects with König's, the man takes his time putting one foot back to a step and scooping you up from behind your knees. With a tiny grunt, you settle at his chest, calming your heartbeat with the fact that you know he won’t hurt you. 
“I’ve got you,” he says. 
In his arms, your bare legs hang in the air, hand wrapping his neck, and with a slightly nervous look to you as your body hovers. König watches for a moment, hesitating before he begins walking to the same vehicle the other woman had been moved into out of the snowfall. 
“Can you tell me your name,” he asks to distract you from his hold, to get you more comfortable with him as his boots crunch through the packed powder on the ground—making sure to watch his step so as to not jostle you. 
“Everyone calls me Cat.” Gray eyes blink your way, visible skin painted black. König’s head tilts. You can’t help but find it endearing.
“Katze?” He hums, and you can imagine his lips moving slightly upwards from the innocent tone of his voice as if taken by the strange moniker. “That is…interesting.” 
You huff tinily, shivering again as your body moves to curl a little more. 
The soldier quickly reassures you. “Nearly there.” 
The vehicle is in front of you, and a nearby man opens the door for König as he carries you over. Nodding in thanks, the large individual eases you into one of the seats as the blast of warm air makes you sag—the other woman in there mulls closer, grabbing onto you and laughing through tears. 
Looking back at them, you smile and feel yourself get a bit teary-eyed as everything starts to slowly come into focus. 
Glancing outward, you stare at the snow that hits the dark hood of König, sticking and hanging off until the tiny white dots melt from the heat of his body. With his legs shifting he moves back a step and nods to you, eyes moving to stare at the ground for a moment. 
“We will take you to base. From there you will all be given dorms and fresh apparel to—”
“Thank you, König,” you interrupted him. He stares, lips parted with the half-tones of cut-off speech. “And please extend my thanks to your men as well.” 
“...Of course, Katze.” König stands straighter, always twitching fingers moving to the car door as engines start with a grinding roar. He nods again, the loose fabric swaying as the lenses of his rig stay firm at the movement. “There is no need to thank us. Relax. Sleep, if you wish to do it. The ride will be long.” The man’s gray eyes linger for a moment on your own, studying the bumps and small marks on your face. His hand tightens over the door as your gaze is stuck with his own; warmth blooming in his chest. He was glad he had found you. 
König slips out a soft, “There are blankets under the seats,” before he closes the door with a firm thump of metal. 
You can’t help but smile. 
'…Hostages were taken back to [REDACTED] and received minor medical attention on site. Housed in [REDACTED] and were admitted for needed treatments/medications - all details/names listed in File 3 Section 6 for future reference. DNA was placed into databases. 
Next of kin were informed of their family members’ position and/or state of being via phone call to the corresponding government official that then traveled through the appropriate channels once identified.'
You sit as a nurse hands you heating pads for your hands, which you take with a small thanks and clenched tightly, sucking every ounce of warmth from them to stop the shaking. Your body was heavy with the weight of new clothes and heated blankets, the room utterly normal in a way you’d not known for years. A corner table with books and a chess board—a connected bathroom stocked with amenities you may need; even a rug on the tile floor. You don’t know why that was shocking to you, but even the simplest thing was awe-inspiring. Your eyes had even slipped over a tiny nightlight near the door. 
It nearly made you cry. 
Your nurse moves back a bit, smiling down at you kindly. 
“Is there anything else you might need, Dear?” Her accent is prominent, though not as much as König’s had been. She waits for your answer diligently as the pitcher of water and a similar glass sit on your nightstand. 
“No,” you say, shaking your head. Your socked feet rub together like a grasshopper. “I think that’s all.” Your eyelids blink. “But…” you stop.
“What is it?” The lady asks gently, hands slack at her sides.
“The man—König,” you pause. “Is he here?” 
Blinking at you, the nurse tilts her head to the side in curiosity. “Not currently, no. At least, not in this specific building. He and his men are being debriefed across base. They will be there for a long while.” At your blank look, her brows slightly move up in accommodating comfort. “Would…you like me to tell him something for you?” 
Playing with the heating pads in your hands, your face gains a slightly embarrassed sheen. You liked the thought of being near König, truthfully. No one had made you feel safe like he did—him and his selfless action of a large coat given with no intention of getting anything in return. 
“Just,” you breathe softly. “Just that I’m sorry for losing his coat, and that I hope it wasn’t expensive.”
The nurse stares, very much confused but not about to question you. Her feet shift over the floor, and a light nod is sent your way. 
“Of course. I’ll tell him.” She motions to the bed with a hand and explains that whenever you wished to sleep, you were free to use the bed—and the TV was open to you as well, though you might not be able to understand the local stations. With that, she exited the room. 
Left alone, your head moves around the room slowly, taking it all in once more as the small bandages under your clothes pull at your flesh. The tears start slipping down your cheeks with no warning. 
Wrist coming up to your eyes, the limb presses in tightly, water staining the flesh as it dribbles down, and your lip quivers like a worm below it. You don’t know why you’re crying now and not when König had gotten you out of that townhouse. Why now, when there wasn’t anything prompting you to do so? 
But something was prompting you—the knowledge that you would never be going back to anyone who would mistreat you again. You had your own room. Good food. All the water that your stomach could drink down. A nightlight that pushes back the darkness even if you’re so used to living in it. 
Through your soft sniffles, chuckles move out, filling the space with a warm echo. You pull the blankets closer to you and collapse backward onto the mattress, smiling widely at the ceiling. 
That little invisible string dances as your heart pulls at it. 
König’s leg lightly jumps from under his table, signing off his name at the bottom of a report before he stands and rubs a hand over the top of his un-hooded head. He grabs the paper and slips it into a manila folder, hands pale with deep scars running the length of them like fissures in the earth. Deftly taking the item, he walks out of his office and begins moving down the length of the building, fingers tapping over the yellowish material with a small connection of flesh and thick envelope. 
Tap-tap, tappity-tap. 
His fingers were always fidgeting—moving, tensing, twitching. It was one of the reasons they never let him become a recon sniper; the more obvious being the blatant size of his body. Both of which had been the cause of much teasing throughout his childhood. 
But König’s mind was on something other than the report in his hands, and it was starting to become a very strong distraction. You. The women. Al-Qatala. 
He was angry he hadn’t acted outside of that coffee shop—angry he hadn't noticed the signs right in front of him even if he had been powerless to stop it then. The soldier’s jaw clenched, the strong muscles of his jaw roving. 
“Verdammt,” he hisses under his breath, glaring at the tile. “Should have done something.”
König gets to his commanding officer’s office and knocks, only staying long enough to hand him the folder with his finished report and leave once more. His mind wouldn’t stay silent tonight. There’s no doubt that he won’t be able to sleep unless he reassures himself that you and the others are okay. 
The man’s head shifts back to the email he had gotten from your assigned nurse, whom he’d taken it upon himself to know the name of when he carried you into the base’s hospital—Eva. 
‘...She says she wants to apologize for losing your coat…”
König’s heart had twisted at that—that was what you were concerned about? He had to tell you that it was alright, or else he would never know peace. Perhaps even ask how you’ve been treated so far, just to make sure that everything was comfortable for you. 
The man’s eyelids move slightly downward in thought, a pull at his heart to walk outside. He passes a few other soldiers in the hallway, nodding to them with a tiny greeting but unwilling to stop and talk. In only fatigues, König exits the main doors quickly, lightly moving into a jog as his body shivers at the sudden chill touching his arms under the black compression shirt. Under him the snow has grown deeper, the large lights illuminating the almost greenish reflections of the winter landscape of open roads and large buildings. 
Curfew was long past—this had to be quick. 
Just a check-in, König tells himself as he nears the hospital, his breath puffing in the air. Then I can wipe my hands of it. 
He slows as he nears the doors, huffing a breath as he pushes on the barrier, opening it with a squawk of hinges and metal. Entering, the front desk staff looked up at him in surprise, muttering his name in question.
“Katze?” He responds, pushing a hand over his head and feeling the melting snowflakes. His cheeks are a light shade of exposure-red, and inquisitive eyes shift over the two individuals slowly. “What room?”
The pair share a glance and tell him in the same breath. Room ten. 
It’s no sooner after that König finds himself there, hand hovering over the handle as the hallway clock ticks beside his right ear. His gray eyes blink at the door, feet shuffling from under him before he clears his throat under his breath, glancing away for a second in hesitation. 
Was this appropriate?
König didn’t have an answer, but the pull in his chest was tight and firm—he just needed to see you. A glimpse, nothing more. He raises his fist and raps his knuckles over the wood delicately, three tiny knocks that hit his ears like bullets from a gun; the bullets he’s put into pathetic Al-Qatala bodies and watched burst like sacks of fluid. 
He waits, hands going to grasp at his shirt collar, pushing out a low breath to calm himself. 
After a long moment, his foot taps the floor, blinking. Again he knocks—a bit louder. 
“She is sleeping, you evolutionsbremse,” he utters, accent low and grating. “Leave her alone.” But even if you are, his nerves peek their head over the brimstone wall of his brain. 
With his fingers caressing the handle, slowly moved to clutch it fully, swallowing the metal in his grip. König takes a deep breath into his lungs, letting it fill them up. Again, he tells himself, just a check-in. 
He twists the doorknob and sets his forearm on the wood, pushing the barrier open. 
König moves so that his body makes no noise, even with how large it is as he angles the side of his head through the opening. He finds a large mound of blankets atop the bed—stacked and layered so heavily that he has to blink in surprise at how you can breathe under them; because you were under them. 
Gray eyes make out the small sliver of skin peaking out from the side of the bed—fingers—and the top of your forehead near the pillows formed around your skull. Unconsciously, a soft smile works its way over König’s lips until he finds himself chuckling.
“Niedlich,” he mutters, scars over his face shifting as he speaks. 
Sighing lowly, König pulls back his head, beginning to close the door once more.
“König…?” Your tiny voice makes him halt like he had in the townhouse. 
Eyes wide and lips parted at being caught, the door remains open, only a sliver visible to your vision as your furrowed brows are stuck at the barrier. A red sheen moves across the soldier’s face in a slow sweep of embarrassment that goes bone deep.
With a lick of his lips, König re-opens the door slightly.
“I did not mean to wake you, Katze.” He finds your eyes and nods to you. “I apologize. Go back to sleep—you must be tired.” 
 “Wait,” you utter, moving your head fully out from under the blankets. König pauses, eyes staring as his other hand comes up to itch at the back of his neck. 
“What is it,” the man asks, opening the door fully and moving inside. “Do you need anything?” 
The question had hit you in your thin slumber, interrupted only partially by the opening of your door to the familiar pull of gray eyes and a strong build. A buzz-cut head. You take a slow breath to wake yourself up more, watching him from your bed. “...Did you know that I would be in that house?”
König tilts his head at the question, sighing slightly and glancing at the clock inside of the room on your nightstand. He frowns. 
“No,” he explains gently, coming closer. “No, I did not. I do not get told such things—only where to shoot and where not to.” The man tries a small smile, kneeling on one leg down by the bed and staring into your sleepy eyes. “But I am glad I found you again, yes? You had me worried.”
“You were worried?” You can’t quite grasp it.
“Ja,” he nods. “Your eyes—they have stuck with me, Schatz, you understand?” 
Your eyebrows pull up your face, blinking in shock. 
“...Yours, too,” you confess. König’s heart flutters, listening until your lips have fallen still. “They’re very nice, König.”
He goes sheepish, lips flicking up into a smile and his eyes daring away for a moment. “You can thank my mother for them, then.” He chuckles. “I have stolen the family's eyes, I was told.”
You chuckle with him, hand coming to rub at your cheek. A silence falls between the two of you.
“I don’t sleep well,” you tell him in the relative darkness, light from the hallway and your night light illuminating the dips and bone structure of his face. “I was awake when you opened the door.” 
He nods after a moment. “Ja.” A pause. “I don’t either…Nightmares?” 
You watch him before nodding tinily. 
“Ah,” he mutters. “They are not pleasant, I’m sorry that they have been plaguing you. Do you…” König wonders if he should leave—this was far more than he had anticipated. “Do you wish for me to stay?” 
 Why had he said that?
The string between the two of you tightens evermore, gaining another thread just as it would for the years to come until it became as unbreakable as steel.
“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” you begin but are quickly interrupted with a shake of a square head and a huff of a sharp nose.
“You are not. Do not call yourself such.” His accent deepens with emotion, eyes narrowing as the dark brows on his face pull in. “If you want me to stay, I will stay. Wake you if you become shaky, yes? Keep the bad dreams at bay.”
“But what about you?” Your voice moves around the room as König stands and goes to the table in the back, shifting one of the chairs so that it’s angled your way. You shift so you can watch him sit back, grunting as his legs move out in front of him, opening so he can be more comfortable. He needed a bigger chair, but he wasn’t going to complain about it. 
“I’m not tired, Schatz.” A lie. His muscles are heavy, and he longs for his bed in the barracks. He pushes out, “Please, go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
You stare for a long while, studying him and how he fidgets in his seat of choice. A small laugh meets the man’s ears as he crosses his arms over his chest. König pauses, blinking over in confusion. His lips move upwards slowly. 
“What are you laughing at, then, hm?” 
“You look like you’re about to break it,” you mutter, head nuzzling the pillow under you as fatigue claws its way under your skin. 
König huffs, fingers twitching over the meat of his biceps as he slouches. He nods jokingly. “Perhaps,” he shrugs, the window behind him letting a slight tinge of cold air in from outside. “It would not be the first, I’m afraid, though it would be quite the embarrassment to do it in front of you, Katze.” He smirks. “But I’ll say, hitting my head on door frames hurts more than letting my arsch kiss the ground.” 
You laugh under your heap, your body jerking to the movement of your lungs. 
“I bet,” you say, fingers grasping one of your blankets and pulling it closer. “It’s a funny image.”
“You can laugh all you want,” König jokes, eyes soft as they gaze at you. “It does not bother me.” 
Your sweet sounds of amusement waft out from under the crack in the door, where a small group of curious nurses mull and listen with glances to one another. A doctor moves past the hallway where they stand, and all scatter on quick feet. 
'…Signed,
[REDACTED]
SUBMITTED: 0517, 25, November 2021
END OF MISSION REPORT ‘RED FREEDOM’
RETURNING TO SELECTION MENU…
STAND BY…'
It’s only after most of the other women leave—sent home to awaiting families or loved ones—that you know your time is coming to a close here in Berlin, Germany. While you’re excited to put this behind you, you can’t help but feel a bit…lost. 
There’s something that keeps you here, on this base, until you’re the last out of all of them, waiting. And then you’re given the green light to go—go home—and suddenly you have a backpack full of necessities and you’re closing the door to your room with the little nightlight’s plastic body pushing against your spine. Yet, you stand in the hallway for a long minute, fingers interlocked. 
You take a long, deep, breath. 
Over the weeks of recovery, König had been a constant companion when he wasn’t needed. He had eased you back into a comfortable state, letting you somewhat lose the black-and-white view you had gained of the world. But there was only so much he could do, even if his soft eyes were still stuck in your dreams—the good ones, of course. 
You needed to go home, and, today, the C-17 was whirring on the tarmac, waiting for you to be transported to a military base far from here where you would be processed and, ultimately, let go. 
Let go. It was jarring to think about, all of that freedom. What would you do with it? Right now, you don’t have the faintest clue. It was the best feeling you can remember having.
Smiling, you take one last look at the room behind you and walk on. 
At the entrance, you say a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to the nurses and doctors in broken German, shaking their hands as Eva kisses your forehead and whispers how happy she is to have had you here for such little time—you know what she means and you chuckle with her at the double-edged sword. 
König waits by the door, holding it open with…you blink at the item in his hands as well as his sudden appearance. Canvas fabric. A coat.
The coat. 
“I had to have it processed,” he says, smiling as you gape at him. “Very long process. It was found in the closet in the townhouse.” 
“Then why are you handing it to me,” you ask, tilting your head and walking closer. 
“I gave it to you, did I not?” The man hums, head tilting as he motions with it again. “It’s a good coat, Katze. Winters get cold.” Gray eyes crinkle gently. “I would hate for you to shiver, wherever it is that you end up, yes?”
You shake your head, cheeks hot. But your hands don’t hesitate to grasp the item, König’s hold on it remains fast, though, and you blink at him as you both keep it gently clasped like it’s worth its weight in gold. 
König stares at you, the door still kept open behind him. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment as you tilt your head. 
“Keep it safe for me,” is what he ends with, but his expression tells you he’s not talking about the coat. 
It makes your arms tingle—your heart skips a beat. 
“I’ll be sure it never gets lost,” you smile warmly, eyes malleable as the make of their color glints. There is a connection to this man that transcends words, and it is tied to you just as heavily as it is to him; unexplainable, incomprehensible, non-describable. 
Enigmatic. 
König’s reverential face is soft with care. 
“Good,” he mutters, unable to look away. “Very good.”
Clearing his throat, his grays dart to the floor, shifting his feet to move backward. He pushes open the door wider for you, and you hold your backpack in one hand as you shift past him and slip into his coat. 
It was exactly how you remembered it, and you sank into the fabric with a thankful sigh and a fluttering of your lashes. You shift the bag back over your shoulders, letting the straps fall into the bulk of the extra material. 
The snow wasn’t falling today, and the ground was shoveled of any white powder too. On the air, you can hear the whir of the C-17. 
König comes up beside you, a hand hovering over the small of your back as he guides you along. For the most part, the walk to the tarmac is silent with the weight of the future. You had no phone. No socials. You didn’t even know if you wanted any, to be honest. Your mind had convinced you that a good bout of soul-searching was exactly what you needed. And you had to do that alone. 
Your lips are thin as your legs take you closer to the plane, König’s scent stuck into the stitches of the coat and covered your senses. 
At the ramp, he stops as your feet take you onto the metal. Closing your eyes for a moment, you turn and lock gazes with him—gray hiding away what other, more human, emotions to be found. It was a slate of carefully crafted acceptance, and your own followed soon after. 
It had to be this. The string wouldn’t break, no, but it had to be stretched to such a point to come back stronger.
“Thank—”
“Don’t,” he says, not blinking, looking up at you. 
You smile. “What do you want me to say, then?” 
“You don’t have to say anything to me.” You hadn't known it then, but the both of you had truly thought that this would be the last of your meetings. It produced a pulse in both of your hearts that would never be told aloud. “....Live well,” König utters. “Heal, Mein Schatz.” 
The soldier wasn't one to give his chances to hope. 
Your eyes follow as he backs up, moving away as you stare. In his head, König pleads with you to stop and give him a reprieve from the hypnosis of your gaze, the addictive movement of your head as it tilts to the side. 
Live well. 
You send him a smile, a delicate thing, and then you back up a step and turn, disappearing into the darkness. 
The string follows, and it continues to do so even as your hands slip into your pockets hours later, bumping into the small form of a black flip phone. The note hidden inside of it. 
 ‘For whenever you find what you’re looking for.’
'REQUEST FOR ADMINISTRATIVE DISCHARGE
REQUESTED BY: [REDACTED]
ENTERED: DECEMBER 15, 2021
TIME: 1422
OPEN FILE?...
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You sit in a coffee shop in Berlin, Germany, by the window. It wasn’t just any coffee shop, but you try not to think about all of that. It was all in the past—three years, now. You like to think you’d learned something in that time.
“Danke schön,” you say to the woman who brings you your drink, nodding kindly. You take a small sip, humming and winking at her teasingly. “Perfekt.” 
She chuckles, wiping her hands on her apron. “Möchten Sie noch etwas anderes dazu?”
“Nein, nein,” you shake your head, waving a hand that soft bumps the flip phone on the table. “Danke.” 
The lady walks away, and you take another sip of the hot beverage, never put off by the heat. 
It was winter again, and your eyes followed the flakes as they fell from a cloudy sky, finding the beauty in it easily as you sat inside. The scarf around your neck is loose—your gifted coat open. You smile to yourself and hum, watching people walk past outside, thinking about their lives and how they live them. 
A large form travels out from a shop across the street, a plastic bag in his loose grip. He was not small, no, this man was a beast of height and strength alike. The loping, canid-like, walk was accented by the twitch of his fingers over his quarry. 
Your wide eyes stay stuck to him for a long moment as he moves to the crosswalk, people shifting out of his way as he ignores them. Familiarity strikes like lighting—a buzz down your spine that leaves you straightening.
After a long moment, a breathless laugh sneaks out of you.
There were just some things that people were never meant to understand.
Your hand places your cup back on the table, picking up the old flip phone and pushing it open. Your thumb runs the keypad, moving to the only contact that had ever been entered into the device. 
Pressing, you move it to your ear as you watch with a soft expression, heart pattering. 
Across the way, the man tenses, hand patting his leg before the other hand moves inside his pocket and shifts the item out. People walk away, moving to the other side of the crosswalk as he stares at the contact. 
A minute passes, and all the while you hold your breath.
He presses and moves the phone to his ear, staying as still as stone. As still as a man afraid his hood might scare a group of terrified women. 
His voice graces your ear.
“...Katze?” You beam, trapped in the warmth of the coat around your shoulders.
“How do you feel about coffee, König?” 
Blue-gray eyes had never been more beautiful than when they snapped up to meet yours.
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