#like usually i get so frustrated by angst but this is kinda good??
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fyeahfandomtrash · 7 months ago
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why is the angst in lovely runner serving
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cloudd-nyne · 7 months ago
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#having a creative rut feeling#gonna rant#im basically a giant baby and i don't handle angst very well#and i constantly worry that im just. idk mentally weak or a deeply uninteresting person bc of it.#every big fantasy artist i see is usually very into making sad or angsty pieces and like i wish i was like that#like i fall into this mental hole very very often that im just holding myself back with how many subjects i dont write or draw#but also like when i DO write dark subjects it doesn't make me feel any better??#i dont like feeling sad or angry bc once i am its extremely hard to get back out of it.#and thats scary for me.#but also i want to make art that means something instead of my nonestop slew of smut and feelgood content.#i genuinely feel so trapped by my own emotions and its sp frustrating.#i keep getting told how good for you it is to get the negative feelings out but it never helps when i do it#i just feel. worse? i dont feel good.#i kinda wanna delete the one cloud post bc it just doesn't feel good.#ugh#idk i want to have good intelligent things to say and thoughtful art to make#and everything i make feels soft and cheesey and lame.#not that i find those things lame#but just that it feels like im stuck in baby brain.#when i was a teen i would write horror stories!!! i still love horror!!!#but if i make someone suffer in fic now it feels me with this awful awful overwhelming sense of dread and guilt and i end up so upset#im frustrated at me bc this is such a fucking weird sensitivity to have. im tried of telling myself its okay#bc i WANT to feel mentally free enough to create shit that isnt just uwu soft.#i don't think im making sense but like.#you know#I've literally been bullied out of fandom spaces for only making soft content#multiple times.#so idk maybe this is a learned sense of shame#but i feel like a big over sensitive baby and like I'd be able to do so much more if i wasn't#vent ish
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month ago
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do you believe me now? | 9
in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!
Friday morning
The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 
But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 
Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 
Was it even real?
Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 
The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?
Mostly you’re confused. 
As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 
It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 
From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 
It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 
People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 
All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 
Wonderful. 
Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.
But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—
“What’chya got there?”
The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 
“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 
“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”
Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 
You shrug. “Yeah.”
He scratches his bald head. 
“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”
Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 
When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 
“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”
When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 
“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 
Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 
Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.
I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 
No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 
So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 
Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  
That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 
You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 
But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 
Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 
Fuck. 
No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 
Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 
Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 
The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—
You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 
Friday evening—present
After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 
He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 
Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 
The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 
“Hey. Water’s warm.”
You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 
A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 
Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 
“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 
And you still feel terrible. 
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 
“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 
Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 
“My neighbor said he c—” 
You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 
“He said he could hear us. Last night.”
Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 
“He’s in the unit next to you?”
You nod. “We share a wall.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 
“What did he say?”
“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”
You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 
A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  
His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”
“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”
It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 
Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.
Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 
As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 
You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 
When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 
“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.
“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”
His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Tell me his name.” 
It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.
“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”
You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 
“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”
You scoff. 
“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”
“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”
“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”
To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 
“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”
Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 
“It’s your fault?”
“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”
His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”
“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”
He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 
“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”
“It’s the result of my actions, so—”
“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”
“He—”
“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”
“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”
You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”
The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 
“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”
He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 
“What?”
He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”
“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”
You frown. “What did he say?”
Spencer hesitates. 
“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”
“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”
“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”
Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”
“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”
You have to seriously think about it. 
“I’ve heard them yelling…”
“Nothing else?”
Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 
“No.”
“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”
You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”
His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”
Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 
“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 
“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 
“I think you should say it.”
You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 
“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”
By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 
He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.
And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 
“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 
Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”
Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 
“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 
“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”
“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 
“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 
“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”
“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 
“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 
“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”
His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”
Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 
And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 
When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 
“You can come in,” you call. 
“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”
“No, no. It’s fine.”
The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 
“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 
“Hello.”
His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 
“Is it okay if I touch you?”
In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 
Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 
“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”
It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 
“No, they don’t hurt.”
“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”
“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”
“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 
“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”
That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 
“Worse? 1-10, how—”
“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”
“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”
You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”
Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 
He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 
“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”
“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 
“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“It’s a process.”
“I understand.”
“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”
“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”
You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 
He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 
He just washes your hair. 
893 notes · View notes
gyuswhore · 1 year ago
Text
Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)
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«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»
PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader
SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.
or;
in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.
GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.
PLAYLIST: right here!
WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)
Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k
masterlist
WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho
[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe
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For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 
You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 
It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 
Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  
Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 
“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 
“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 
He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 
He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 
Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 
You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 
“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.
“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 
He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 
“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 
“Hey, it’s good.” 
“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 
“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 
The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 
Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 
“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 
“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 
“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 
“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 
“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.
Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 
“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 
Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 
“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 
You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 
“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 
You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 
“We broke up.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 
“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 
“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”
He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 
Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 
“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.
“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 
“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.
Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”
Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 
“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 
“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 
“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 
Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 
That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 
“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.
“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”
“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 
“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 
Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 
The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 
You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 
“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”
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Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.
“Never knew you read.” 
“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 
You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”
He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”
Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 
“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.
“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 
You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”
“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 
“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”
“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 
“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 
“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”
“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 
“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.
“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.
“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.
“And believe you instead?” 
Oh, you wish.
Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 
“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 
He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 
“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 
Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 
“How far are you with that one?” 
“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 
He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 
“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 
“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 
By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 
It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 
[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up
The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 
Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 
You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 
There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 
The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 
“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.
“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.
“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”
Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 
Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 
“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.
“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 
“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 
Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 
It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”
You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 
“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”
“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 
“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”
Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.
More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 
That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  
Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 
The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.
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It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 
“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 
“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 
But you don’t. 
“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 
“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 
“Did you drive like this?” 
“Uh, no, I walked.”
“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”
“Wanted to see you.”
It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 
“Had to talk about the book.”
Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”
He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”
You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 
“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”
He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 
“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 
By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 
“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”
“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 
“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”
Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 
He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 
Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”
“Why?” 
“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 
The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 
“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 
“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 
“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 
“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”
“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 
“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 
“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 
“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 
He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 
“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 
“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 
Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 
“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 
It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 
Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 
“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 
You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”
He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.
It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 
You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 
It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 
If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.
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There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 
They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 
“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 
“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 
Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 
Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 
“It’s not about that.” 
Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”
Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”
“Better?”
 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”
Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”
“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”
“Easy?”
“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 
It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 
His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”
“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”
He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.
“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 
“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.
Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 
“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 
“Yeah…”
“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 
“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 
“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 
Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.
“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 
Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”
“You hate living in peace.”
“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 
“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 
He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 
Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.
“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 
“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 
Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.
“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 
“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 
“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 
Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 
“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 
“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.
“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 
By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.
Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 
He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 
“What’re you doing here?” 
Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 
“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 
“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”
You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”
“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 
“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 
“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”
“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 
“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 
“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”
The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 
“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 
He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
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You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 
Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 
You really needed a new car. 
Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 
Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 
So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 
The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 
“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”
She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 
“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 
“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  
“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 
Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.
You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 
Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 
You had forgotten your book. 
It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 
You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 
What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 
Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 
You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 
Was he uncomfortable with you? 
Was he avoiding you? 
Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 
The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 
Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 
[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 
You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 
[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 
There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 
Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 
Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 
Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 
Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 
“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 
“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 
Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 
He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”
“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 
He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 
“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 
He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  
“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 
“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 
“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”
“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 
“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 
“Mingyu, are you okay—”
“I need to talk to you.” 
“O-okay.” 
It’s silent. Painfully so. 
“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 
There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 
“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 
“Mingyu—“
“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”
His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 
“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”
He pauses. 
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”
“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”
There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 
You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 
“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 
It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 
“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”
The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 
And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 
You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 
But you can’t. You can’t do it. 
“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”
You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 
“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”
Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 
You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 
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You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 
It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 
Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  
Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 
You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 
There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 
“What’re you doing?”
Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 
“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 
“It’s not that!” you groan.
“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 
Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.
There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 
You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.
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“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 
“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 
“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 
“No, you're avoiding each other.”
“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 
“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 
“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 
“Seokmin!” you scream. 
“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 
“No, it’s not,” you grit. 
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 
“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”
“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 
“I don’t want to go.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”
“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 
“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 
He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.
 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 
Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.
The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 
The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 
Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 
Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 
There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 
You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?
Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 
Congratulations.
You’ve worked hard on this. 
This looks great.
How’ve you been?
“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 
“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 
“Seok told me you were here too.” 
Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 
“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”
“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.
You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 
Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 
“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.
It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 
You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 
The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.
Soft. Legible. New.
You take a step back. 
And another
Then another. 
You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 
You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 
THE BEGINNING
There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 
There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 
“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 
You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 
You needed to leave. 
Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 
“Let’s go home.”
“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 
“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 
He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 
“Let me drop you off home.” 
You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.
He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.
You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 
Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.
You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 
Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 
The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 
Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 
Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 
You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 
Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 
You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 
Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 
“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.
“Uh, no, I was awake.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 
You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 
There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 
“Nayeon’s” 
“Bullshit.”
You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 
Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”
You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 
By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 
Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 
Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 
“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 
“What?”
“Promise me you mean it.”
“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 
“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”
The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 
Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”
“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 
Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 
Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 
“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”
There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 
“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”
Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 
His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 
His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 
“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 
Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 
“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”
Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 
There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 
“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 
“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”
He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”
He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”
By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 
Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 
“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 
His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 
“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”
Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 
Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 
Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”
“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”
He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 
Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 
“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 
There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 
The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 
Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 
“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 
“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 
Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 
You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 
He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 
“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 
He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 
“Oh, Mingyu,” 
That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 
It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 
“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”
He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 
“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 
And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”
He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 
You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 
“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 
“Great.”
“Great?”
“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 
You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 
“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 
“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 
“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 
Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 
“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 
When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 
“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 
“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 
You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 
He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 
When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.
He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 
If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”
“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 
And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 
He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 
He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 
His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.
“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 
He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 
You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 
“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 
“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 
Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 
“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.
“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”
There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 
“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 
“Did you bring it with you?” 
You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 
“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 
“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 
You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.
“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 
“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 
“Oh.”
The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 
“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.
“What?”
“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 
“I-”
“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 
He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 
The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 
You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 
You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 
“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”
“We could do that right now.”
“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”
“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.
“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 
“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 
You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.
“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”
You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”
He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.
 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 
“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 
He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 
Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 
The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 
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The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 
Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 
 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.
You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 
Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 
The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 
You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 
It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 
They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 
[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???
By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”
You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 
“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 
“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”
Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 
The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 
“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 
You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 
“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 
“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 
“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 
“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 
“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.
“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”
He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 
“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.
He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 
When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 
“I hope so,” you reply.
“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 
You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”
He grins, “I’d do it for you.”
You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 
His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”
Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 
6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 
By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 
Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 
It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 
“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.
“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 
“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”
“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”
You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”
“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 
“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”
‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 
“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”
“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 
“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 
“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 
“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 
He’s silent. 
“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 
No response. 
“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”
Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?
“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 
You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 
“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 
“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 
“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 
“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”
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The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 
Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 
But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 
His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 
You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 
As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 
By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 
You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 
You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 
By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.
“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”
“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”
“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.
He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”
“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 
He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”
“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 
He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”
It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 
“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”
“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”
You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”
He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 
You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 
“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”
He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 
You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 
It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 
“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.
“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 
“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 
It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”
He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 
“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 
He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”
You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”
He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”
He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”
“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 
You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 
Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”
“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 
It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 
He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 
“Love ya’” he giggles. 
“Hm.”
“What, hm? Say it back.”
You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”
“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 
You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 
“Hey!” 
Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 
“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 
“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 
It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
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madridfangirl · 4 months ago
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Making up after a fight - Jude Bellingham blurb
A/n - fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive
900 words. Jude*female reader.
……………………………………………………………………
‘You were amazing today. Congrats on the MOTM, so well deserved!’
You hit send, hoping for a response. You were supposed to be at the match, supporting him. But the two of you had gotten into an ugly fight just this morning. Which, in hindsight, was kinda your fault. But, hindsight is a bitch and you were downright furious in the morning.
A particular reel on your insta feed, of Jude with an upcoming Spanish actress, is what you had woken up to. The woman was gorgeous, and way too obvious with Jude - the hair flicks, side eyes, giggles, touching the arm for that extra second, all straight out of the playbook.
The hug though is what enraged you the most. Coz Jude had also wrapped both arms around her, not the typical one arm shoulder hug thing he usually did with other women. That, combined with the fact that Jude liked the pics she posted of the meeting made you blow your top.
To be fair, you had tried to avoid the fight before an important CL match, the first home KO match in-fact. But Jude had gotten impatient with your radio silence, pestered you for a call and then you couldn’t hold back.
He tried to explain that she was working on a social media campaign for RM, and other players had liked the post too. But you had shot back saying that was no reason for him to let that woman feel him up.
Jude was frustrated, and lost his cool too. This was not a new fight. You two had been here way too many times. Usually he was patient, knowing that his lifestyle was not ideal for a new relationship, but the timing of it, right before one of the most crucial matches of his career, is what irked him.
So yeah, it ended up with you not attending the match. Not even sending him a good luck message before the match, something you had never missed in the last 4 months since your first date. To top it off, you even used a nuclear weapon that you knew would set him off. By mentioning a colleague of yours who Jude hated with all the bones in his body.
It was only when you saw another angle of the video (taken on phone by other attendees) that you realised you had overreacted. The woman was still pathetic but Jude did pull back immediately from the hug, and maintained his distance. But, it was too late by then and the match had already started.
‘I am so proud of you, Jude.’
You were still on texts. Fully aware that if you call and he disconnects / doesn’t pick up, it will hurt you & your ego both.
The messages were seen. No response. It was now 1.5 hours after the match. He would be home already or on the way.
‘Wish I had been there, instead of moping all day.’
‘Why? That fucker wasn’t good company?’
Well at-least that was a response. At least.
‘Jude, I didn’t go. I wouldn’t. You know that.’
‘You had no problem throwing that in my face though.’
He was right, you could see that. It really was a low & petty blow. If only you were as clear headed in the morning.
‘I am sorry, baby. For that & everything else today. For assuming all those things without hearing you out. Really, I am.’
No response for 2 minutes, which made her anxious.
‘Don’t think I am cheating, then? Don’t think I am going to her right now or went to her last night?’
He was goading her, she could tell. But he was hurting too, that also she could tell.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Why the change of heart, when you were so convinced earlier?’
He wasn’t gonna make it easy for her.
‘Is that important? Look, I know I messed up. I know I ruined what could have been a great day for us. You really should be celebrating right now instead of feeling shitty. And I really really am sorry, Jude. Pls can we just get over this?’
A pregnant pause, again.
She doubled down with another nuclear weapon in her kitty.
‘I love you. So much it hurts. Yes I do get crazy sometimes but you know, in your heart you know where it’s coming from.’
If this doesn’t work, she won’t know what else to do.
1 minute later, her phone flashed.
‘I needed you today.’
She clutched the phone to her chest, sighing deeply, sensing his resignation.
‘I know, honey. Promise I will be there for the next big game. And whenever else you need me.’
‘It was so shitty to play like this. Not knowing where we stand. Not knowing if you were anywhere near that asshole. Might have tackled some of the guys extra hard today.’
‘Again, I am so so sorry. But I am also super proud that despite all this you still came out on top. Like you always do.’
Jude read and re-read the text a few times, sat in his car. She always knew what she was doing so this couldn’t just be a coincidence.
‘Tryna tempt me?’
‘Depends - is it working?’
‘Be careful what you wish for, doll. I don’t have a handle on myself today.’
‘Wanna come here & show me what that’s like?’
‘Gonna ask one more time - are you sure?’
‘Uh-huh. I do deserve some disciplining today, don’t you think?’
‘I’ll be there in 20. And doll, you may have to take an off tmrw.’
……………………………………………
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ratatoastwrites · 3 months ago
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Playing house
Spencer Reid x gn!reader
[this was specifically written with s2 bratty(suffering from withdrawal)!Spencer in mind 🧚‍♀️]
Synopsis: “has a PhD in engineering and thinks that Ikea manuals are for stupid people” boyfriend vs “isn’t really a good handyman but is determined to follow the rules” s/o get into a bit of an argument 🫢
a/n: it’s me woo! did y’all miss me? 🌝 ofc u did!! 🥰 jkjk but umm i was inspired to write this bcuz i actually got a new chair from ikea a few days ago and i almost ripped out all my hair by the time i managed to put it together ✨ i was listening to the Like a Prayer EP from deadpool & wolverine for the whole two (2) hours it took me to put it together as well lmao 🪑 also, the pic on the left of the moodboard is my own ikea manual on the exact page i messed up!! fun 🧚‍♀️ also, did u guys like that i included a synopsis this time? i hope u did ;)
cw: light angst, arguing about something that shouldn’t really be a cause of an argument, reader has one (1) violent thought but doesn’t actually mean it and also doesn’t act on it ofc, allusion to Spencer’s addiction/withdrawal, some kinda unhealthy thoughts, Spencer is a bit 🤏 of an asshole in the beginning, mostly fluffy ending, also kinda rushed ending which is my bad :( sorry
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“This is stupid. And you’re doing it wrong.”
You scoffed in exasperation at your boyfriend’s complaints, but otherwise kept your focus on the task at hand.
You’ve been trying to assemble your new desk chair for the past half hour, while Spencer loomed over your hunched figure, like an unhelpful little devil on your shoulder.
“Well, why don’t you do it then?”
You mumbled under your breath, not necessarily wanting him to hear. He did anyway.
“Well, I would. If you weren’t so insistent on using the manual.”
You could quite literally hear the eye roll in his tone, and while you usually didn’t mind his bratty attitude, right now it wasn’t helping your already frustrated mood.
“Oh, right. Silly me, using the manual that tells me how to assemble this piece of- furniture.”
You had to try your hardest not to start cursing, not wanting to let this swedish nightmare of a chair get the better of you. Spencer sighed behind you, and you were secretly hoping that it was a sigh of resignation.
“I have a PhD in engineering, do you really think that I don’t know how to assemble a chair from Ikea?”
Your hopes were proven to be futile, just like every other time you found yourself not seeing eye to eye with your boyfriend. You took a deep breath, not wanting to turn this petty argument into an actual fight.
“I don’t know, Spencer. And I’m not interested in finding out. I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove by refusing the very idea of using the manual.”
Your tone became a little sharper by the end, although it wasn’t actually aimed at him. As you read over the manual again, you realised that you messed up the last step, cursing quietly under your breath as you had to undo the last eight screws in the armrests.
“Good thing you were using the manual.”
You were seriously contemplating throwing the screwdriver at your boyfriend’s smartass head after his smug comment. However, you just slowly put it down instead, before standing up from your place on the carpet, ignoring the crackling in your knees as you turned around to face him.
“Spencer, I love you more than words could describe, but you’re seriously getting on my last nerve right now. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea, do not follow me please.”
You told him with eerie calmness, before walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen.
You tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at your stomach at how annoyed you’d gotten over something so trivial. You knew that he was going through a rough patch in his life, and you couldn’t blame him for being more annoying than usual. But you couldn’t always have the patience of a saint, and you were already quite worked up about that stupid chair.
‘I just need a few moments of peace. Then I’ll go back and pretend like everything is okay. As per usual.’
You tried telling yourself, blocking out the voices saying how unhealthy that sounded.
You went through the steps of making your tea, doing your best to silence the myriad of emotions swirling in your chest. By the time you finished your hot beverage and put your cup in the sink, all your previous frustrations were gone, replaced by only tiredness. The weight of the day weighed on your shoulders as you dragged yourself back to the living room, although the slight aching in your muscles quickly faded to the back of your mind when you took in the sight waiting for you in there.
“Wh- Spence?”
You were dumbfounded as you looked at your boyfriend, who was standing next to your -now assembled!- chair with a sheepish smile.
“I, uh, put it together for you. All according to the manual, of course.”
His tone was almost shy, and he gave you the sweetest puppy dog eyes imaginable, which never failed to make your heart skip a beat.
“But I thought the manual was stupid.”
You stepped closer to him, still feeling a little confused, but your gaze softened in fondness as you looked at him. He shuffled on his feet a little, glancing between you and the chair awkwardly.
“It is. But it doesn’t matter. According to the studies, most healthy relationships are based on compromises. I guess I just realised that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”
You frowned at his words, stepping even closer to him, until you were almost toe to toe. You didn’t like it when he talked about himself like that, and he quickly understood your expression.
“You know it’s true. You’ve been nothing but patient and accepting since I… And I can’t even swallow my pride for an hour to help you put together a piece of furniture.”
He continued before you could argue, and your heart broke as he trailed off mid-sentence. You knew that it was hard for him to acknowledge what he was going through, and you really wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t do anything wrong. But you knew that those empty words of comfort wouldn’t do your relationship any good.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But Spence, I don’t want you to think that me being there for you is a chore, or a sacrifice. I’m being patient and accepting, because I love you.“
You told him, reaching your hands out to hold his, interlocking your fingers as you smiled at him softly.
“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. And you being a little annoying about a stupid chair doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend. Not to mention that you ended up putting it together for me.”
You nodded your head towards the aforementioned furniture next to you, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as you smiled at him fondly.
“I don’t deserve you.”
He said softly, tilting his forehead against yours.
“Negative. You deserve only good things in your life.”
You told him, before capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.
The two of you didn’t always agree, and you could both be incredibly stubborn. But at the end of the day there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your beautiful, intelligent, sweetheart of a boyfriend, no matter how much he tested your patience. And you knew that he felt the exact same way about you.
🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️
Bonus badly edited pic of Spencer in my new chair ✨
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jji-lee · 3 months ago
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Hello! Can u write smth angsty for jeno, but like, not the heartbreaking typa angst, the heartwarming one. Idk he cries cuz he loves u so much or smth like that (pls make one character cry)
something about grown men crying that really just does it for me! hope you enjoy!
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jeno was angry, well rather than angry, he was frustrated. he'd been at the studio since 8 in the morning trying to perfect that one move. the teasing from the others wasn't helping either, only discouraging him farther. and on top of all of this you weren't replying to his messages, what could be keeping you that busy? the instructor already had told him to get off his phone a countless amount of times, the boys yet again poking fun at him for being distracted. but he kept all his emotions in, like he always did, deciding to push them aside, just wanting to go home.
that's why when it hit 9pm he packed all his stuff as quickly as he possibly could ignoring haechan's teasing question about why he was in such a rush and practically ran to the company car. the car ride was quiet, he didn't feel like talking to anyone after the day he had. he shut his eyes hoping to relax a bit before getting home.
when he arrived home he politely thanked the driver as he got out, again rushing to get to the front door. as he dropped his training bag to look for his key the door swung open revealing you in his oversized hoodie, a wide grin on your face. his arms naturally came to wrap around your waist as you got on your tippy toes to hug him.
"jen you're finally home! i was waiting for you, come in i have a surprise!"
surprise? is that why you weren't replying to his texts? he followed after you, smiling at the way you were practically swimming in his clothes. you turned to grab his hands leading him into the kitchen.
"ta daaa! i made you dinner!"
his smile faded as he looked around to see all his favorite dishes lined up on the kitchen island.
"oh baby-"
"i know i usually don't cook so they might not be just like your mom's, but i tried my best, so please just try them!"
he let go of your hands to reach for your hips, pulling you towards him. he placed his face into the crook of you neck letting out a shaky breath,
"my sweet girl, thank you, really, you don't know how much this means to me."
you reached your hands under his shirt to rub his back, skin still slightly sticky from practice.
"jen baby it's nothing really, just some food."
you heard him sniffle, his arms coming around your waist to pull you closer. you leaned back a bit bringing your hands up to hold his face, trying to get a good look at him,
"you're crying baby? what's wrong?"
you used your thumbs to rub under his eyes, wiping away his tears. he nuzzled his face into your hands, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.
"just had a long day, coming home to you fixed everything."
you smiled, relieved that those weren't sad tears. you leaned forward giving him a peck on his lips. as you leaned back again, you smacked your lips, crinkling your nose,
"your tears are salty, kinda like my food."
you turned to eye your food, giggling as you heard your boyfriend laugh at your comment.
"i love you baby, and i'm sure i'll love your food, thank you."
you turned to face him, giving him another kiss.
"you better, or else i'll be the one crying."
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years ago
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𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)
this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!
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They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.
“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”
“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).
At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”
You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”
“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.
“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.
Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”
“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”
“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.
“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.
“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”
That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.
Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.
“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”
“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”
“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.
Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.
Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?
It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.
It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.
You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.
Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.
Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"
They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.
“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”
You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.
~
Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.
“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.
“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”
You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.
Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"
“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”
There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.
“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”
You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…
Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.
But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…
You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.
“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.
“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.
“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”
“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”
He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.
Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.
Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.
Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.
~
Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.
So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.
Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.
The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.
Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.
“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.
“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.
“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.
Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.
You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  
“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”
Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?
Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.
“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.
“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.
Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.
For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.
It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.
He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”
“What did you say?”
“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”
"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.
You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.
“I’m sorry,” you decided.
“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”
You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.
For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.
It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.
Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.
“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”
“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”
“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”
“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”
“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.
Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.
There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”
“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"
He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.
"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"
"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.
"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”
"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"
He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.
"I need someone like you."
Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"
"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."
Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"
“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”
“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”
“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.
“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”
“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”
“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”
“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”
"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”
There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”
Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.
“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”
“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”
“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.
“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.
That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.
“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”
“What?” Joel spat.
“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”
“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.
“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”
“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.
“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”
Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.
“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.
That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.
“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”
As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.
“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”
“I do,” he promised.
“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”
“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.
“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”
Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  
You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.
“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”
“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”
That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.
In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”
“You always take care of me,” you noticed.
“A different way,” he explained.
Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.
“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”
Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.
“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”
Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”
He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”
“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.
~
Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.
You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  
For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.
He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.
Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.
He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.
Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.
“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”
“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”
“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.
“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  
“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.
“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…���
Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.
He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.
“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”
After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.
Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.
He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.
"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…
Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.
His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?
He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"
Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.
You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.
He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"
"No— Joel, please don't stop—"
You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"
"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.
"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"
Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."
He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.
"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"
But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."
He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.
Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.
“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  
“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”
Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”
He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.
He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.
“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.
“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”
When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.
His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.
"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"
"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.
"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"
All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  
His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.
He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.
“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.
His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.
“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.
He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.
Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.
Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"
"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.
Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.
He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  
"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.
You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.
"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.
"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."
"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."
Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.
"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."
That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.
"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."
You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.
"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."
"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"
Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.
"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."
He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”
"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"
"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  
You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.
“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”
Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.
You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"
Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.
"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"
You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.
"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."
“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.
"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."
"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"
He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.
When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.
He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”
You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.
“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”
“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.
“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”
“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.
“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”
That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.
"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  
"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.
"Inside you?" he pressed.
"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.
"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."
“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”
“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”
“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.
“Just like you need it—”
“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.
“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”
“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.
Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.
You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…
But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.
Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.
“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.
“I don’t mind,” he promised.
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his-angell · 16 days ago
Text
"You deserve better than that." (s.cb)
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plot; Innocence and inexperience is something a man can easily take advantage of. When (y/n) starts dating a man older than her, Her brothers get protective. They see how awful he is to her, and they know they need to get her away from him. paring; fem!9th!member!reader x bestfriend!Seo Changbin genre; angst, comfort, tad fluffy if you squint word count; 2.3k warnings; reader gets her inexperience taken advantage of, shes dating a mean older guy, arguments (but nothing too serious), cursing, protective Stray Kids, 3rd pov request?; yes! request found here!
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When (y/n) started dating an older man, she saw no issues in it. He was kind, caring. He bought her gifts and took care of her. Min-Jun was a good guy. In her eyes at least. Her overprotective older brothers saw straight through his lies. He was using (y/n). He only needed a pretty arm piece. He didn't actually care about her. He was just bored and needed something to do.
Recently, he had been acting a little weird.. So have her members. She saw it. She didn't like any of it. She sat in the living room, Hyunjin, Felix and Chan scattered around. Minho was cooking lunch in the kitchen, The others were in their rooms or at the dining table. (y/n) was kinda zoned out as she listened to her members laugh and talk.
But she spoke up, needing to get rid of the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. "Guys, did something happen?" She spoke up. Felix was the first to look over, confused. "What do you mean?" He hummed, sitting up more to face her better. "You guys are acting really weird recently. Especially when Min-Juns here." She took a deep breath.
Chan immediately rolled his eyes and threw his head back. He ran a hand over his face. God, he hated that guy. The dude was such a faker. He didn't understand how (y/n) didn't see it. He was tired of trying to hide his hatred for the guy. Especially since he was hurting (y/n). He couldn't let himself lie to her anymore. "(y/n).." He mumbled. Hyunjin and Felix shared a glance. They knew how much Chan despised their maknaes boyfriend. They looked down, opting to stay quiet and let Chan talk.
"He's not good for you, (y/n)." Chan finally said it. (y/n)'s blood went cold. "What?" She laughed in disbelief. What was he talking about? "I said he's not good for you! He's using you, (y/n). Why can't you see that?" Chan sat up. (y/n)'s eye twitched. She blinked at the older man before she stood up. "Don't walk away from me, (y/n).." Chan sighed. "No! I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you shit talk my boyfriend just because you don't like him!" She turned to him.
"I don't like him because he's using you! Are you not listening?" Chan backed himself up. "Bullshit." (y/n) grumbled. She turned to walk to her room, but the members were all there now. Poking into the room curiously. She made a face. "What? You guys gonna tell me he's bad too?" She snapped. "Yeah, actually-" Changbin pipped up. But before he could actually speak, the woman groaned and stormed off, slamming her bedroom door.
(y/n) laid down on her bed and huffed. She covered her face with her hands. She was starting to have doubts now.. They were just trying to get her to break up with him because they didn't like him! Min-Jun was a good guy! He took care of her! He bought her stuff! He was a good boyfriend! Well.. Was he?..
Sitting up on her bed, she wondered if maybe- Just maybe they were onto something. Maybe he wasn't as great as she thought?.. She was quick to pull out her phone. She went to her text messages with him. He did seem more dry than usual.. But he was busy! That's what he said! He said he was busy with work stuff!
(y/n) groaned in frustration. She texted him.. "Hi, my love! Do you wanna come over tonight for dinner?" She stared at the message. And stared.. And stared. It wasn't till five minutes later, when she was about ready to say never mind when he responded. "Cant. Going to the bar with some coworkers. Tomorrow night?" Oh. Again? That's fine! It's fine! They've been working on a big project, they deserve a night out. "Alright! See you tomorrow! <3!" She expected a smile emoji. Maybe a 'Can't wait to see you~' But no.. She got nothing. Read at 4:25pm.
She was a little hurt. But she didn't think anything of it. He said he was busy. So, she would brush it off like she did every other time. The poor girl was so innocent and inexperienced. She texted the group chat that Min-Jun would be there for dinner tomorrow before she decided to just go to bed. Going to bed at 4:30? Yes, because she wasn't in the mood to stay up anymore. She didn't wanna deal with Chan anymore. Or any of them for that matter.
That next day wasn't much better. The members were grumpy. For good reason though. (y/n) hadn't necessarily talked to them about Min-Jun coming over, she just assumed they'd be fine with it. But they got over it. Correction- some of them got over it. Chan, Changbin and Minho were still reasonably upset. Minho again was in the kitchen cooking, (y/n) was in there helping.
She was waiting for Min-Jun to show up. She really needed to see him. She needed to know that all the things Chan said weren't true. She needed to be held and told that he really did love her. She rushed to the door when there was a knock. She smiled as she opened it. "Hi," She smiled. "Hey." Min-Jun said flatly, flashing a smile before walking past her and slipping off his shoes. "Smells good." He said. (y/n) blinked. She pursed her lips, a little upset she didn't get a kiss.
"Ah, yeah! Me and Minho were-" She didn't even get to finish before Min-Jun shot her a bored look. She nodded softly. She had learned to shut up when he told her too. She didn't wanna make him upset. Changbin saw this. He squinted. He took a deep breath. "Min-Jun. Been a while." He hummed. "Yeah. Works been a hassle." Min-Jun answered shortly as he sat himself down at the table.
Hell, the guy didn't even try to act like he cared anymore. He knew he had (y/n) wrapped around his finger tight enough, that any change in his behavior would be brushed off. Or she just kept quiet about it, not wanting to make him angry or annoyed. The air was so thick you wouldn't even be able to get the knife in it to even cut it..
It was all small talk before dinner was set out. Everyone ate quietly. Chan and Changbin shared a look.. They members had definitely talked about something without (y/n) present. (y/n) cleared her throat. "When is your guys' next schedule? You've seemed to be slacking recently," Min-Jun spoke up, leaning back in his chair. "We aren't slacking." Seungmin huffed, almost offended by his wording. "Min, that's not what he meant." (y/n) defended. "Mm.. Debatable." Min-Jun took a bite of his food.
(y/n) blinked at the comment. "Yikes." She mumbled. Changbin finally set his utensils down. "I think you should go, Min-Jun." He said seriously. Min-Jun blinked. "Sorry?" He laughed. "I didn't do anything!" He scoffed. "Don't act stupid, I said you should go." Changbin repeated. He never acted like this. He usually had at least a little bit of patience. What the Hell was his problem? Min-Jun. Min-Jun was his problem. "Changbin, stop-" (y/n) grumbled.
"No! (y/n), i'm done with this guy!" Changbin was furious. "He's using you! We all see it!" Changbin finally said. He didn't even care about the stupid comment about them slacking. He was pissed about the fact that Min-Jun sat here and did this to their girl, thinking they wouldn't see it! Did he think they were stupid?! Min-Jun rolled his eyes. "Everyone sees it but you, (y/n)!" Changbin added. (y/n) stared. She took a deep breath. She slowly turned to look at Min-Jun who just leaned back in his chair. He rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. "I'm not doing this." He scoffed and stood up. (y/n) was quick to follow him to the door.
This was definitely not how this was supposed to go. Not at all in fact. But then again, she couldn't just let him leave. Not now. She needed to figure out what the hell was going on? If maybe her members warnings were right. "Don't you dare open the door." She growled. "Are.. Are they right?" She asked.
Min-Jun sighed and shook his head. "I said I'm not doing this, (y/n)." He growled. "Bullshit! Are you using me or not!?" (y/n)'s voice cracked as she slapped his chest. She was frustrated. "What the hell?" Min-Jun glared down at the shorter woman. Her members stayed in the dining room.. Chan and Changbin were standing, ready to run out there and beat his ass if he laid even a finger on her.
"You've been acting really weird recently, and I'm sick of it." (y/n) said in a lower tone. "What's wrong? Please i-" She reached for his hand, but Min-Jun pulled away. "We're done, (y/n)." He spat. It felt like her whole world crumbled. "Wha-What?" She choked. "I said we're done." Min-Jun scoffed. "I never loved you. I honestly just wanted an arm piece to show off to my parents." He admitted. That was only half of it.. You could only imagine what he had been doing behind her back.
Everyone heard it. The boys' faces varied from sympathetic looks to ones of pure hatred and anger. "But.. But you- The gifts.. And the cards?" (y/n) tried to understand. "Yeah, to make you stay longer. I couldn't have you catching on too soon." Min-Jun shrugged. He patted her head. "Thanks for the time with you, doll," He pinched her chin lightly. It was more of a mocking thank you than anything else. It wasn't till the door clicked shut that (y/n) choked on a sob.
Chan went to rush to her side, but Changbin was quicker. "Hey, hey, jagi," He pulled her into his chest. His voice and expression was so much softer than it had been moments ago. (y/n) sobbed and gripped onto her best friend. She felt like she had just been ripped apart. She felt so fucking stupid! She felt humiliated! Changbin hushed her and rubbed her back.
He scooped her up and walked to her room. He gently sat on her bed, cradling her to his chest. "(y/n) breathe." He said. (y/n) whined at him, coughing from how hard she was crying. "(y/n), you're going to give yourself a panic attack, breathe." Changbin sat her up and faced her to look at him. "Yo-You guys were right i-" She sobbed. "I'm so stupid-!" She hiccupped. Changbin shook his head. "No. No you're not stupid, (y/n). You didn't know." He gently wiped her tears with his thumbs.
(y/n) shook her head. "But you guys told me! You tried so-so many times to warn me, and I ignored you!" She whined. "But that's okay! It takes a mistake to learn something, alright?" Changbin hummed. "We're not mad at you. We just want you safe and happy." He said. "Plus, he was a little weird anyways.." He made a face. That did get a little giggle out of (y/n). She sniffled and wiped her face. "Yeah.. He was a little more than weird." She huffed.
"Listen, name one good gift this guy got you!" Changbin leaned back, already in the shit talking position. "You told him your favorite flowers were tulips and lilys, this guy got you one single sunflower," He rolled his eyes. "That one time he got me a card and it was a mothers day card. He hadn't even written anything in it." (y/n) sniffled as she messed with her hands. "He wasn't good for you, jagi." Changbin tilted his head at her slightly.
"You deserve so much better than that." He said softly. "Next time you decide to date someone, me and Channie Hyung are doing a full background check on that guy." He grinned. (y/n) laughed softly and shook her head. "I think I'm done with men for a good while." She hummed. Changbin squinted. "Besides you guys, duh." She rolled her eyes.
Changbin hummed and gently pulled her back into his arms and laid down. He pet her hair. "I'll make sure nobody ever hurts you like that again, (y/n)." He whispered into her hair. "Thank you, Bin.. For looking out for me." She hushed. "I'll always look out for you, my jagi." He kissed her head. (y/n) was so emotionally exhausted.. She closed her eyes and cuddled into Changbins side.
She relished in the comfort of his arms and the sound of his heartbeat. She opened her mouth to thank him once more but a soft snore made her pause. She sat up slightly, looking at his sleeping face. Did he just...? She guessed he was tired too. He had been up a while, since he had his morning workout. He guessed being angry didn't help at all either. She hummed before she cuddled back into him. She didn't take much longer to follow him to sleep.
The next day, she would apologize to the others.. She would apologize for bringing him over without really asking. Or backing up his snarky, mean comments towards them. She felt awful for how blind she had been. But none of them were mad at her. Chan agreed with Changbin, that to learn from a mistake, you have to make one.
Felix and Hyunjin had even bought her some of her favorite snacks and such to comfort her. Hyunjin even bought her a bouquet of her favorite flowers.. Tulips and Lilys.. Not a sunflower. God, she loved them so much. She was glad to have her older brothers there to comfort and protect her. She didn't need a stupid boyfriend as long as she had her best friends.. 
...
horrayyy!! i finally got to this request! i'm so so sorry it took so long again. I did accidently slide a little out of the plot, but i hope you still like it! muah muah!! have a good day/nightt! stay safee!
all writing rights are reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission. reblogs are appreciated.
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celenawrites · 1 year ago
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pretty when you cry
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pairing - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
word count - 2.4k
warnings - Ghost is a bit of a dick but he gets better, Reader is a bit of a crybaby here but it's just cuz she's very in tune with her emotions, Simon is emotionally constipated and cannot handle feelings, some fluff, heavy-ish (?) angst, open ending, etc.
Note - Kinda got tired of writing fluffy stuff all the time and my mental health is fraying atm, so I decided to (hopefully) hurt some folks with this little piece. Enjoy!
AO3 Version
Divider by @/firefly-graphics
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You cry easy. 
That's what Ghost thought of you when you first joined Task Force-141. 
While he has always been skeptical of any new additions (often temporary) to the team he has come to love and trust after going through hell and back, Price was convinced that your impeccable record on stealth ops, your physical agility, and your skills as a sniper were much needed. 
Reluctantly, Ghost silently accepts his Captain’s decision.
However, time and time again, your sensitive nature had him worried that you might prove to be a heavy liability to the team. 
When you stub your toe against the leg of the table, you let out a few tears of frustration and pain, cursing everyone and their mothers while you hold your injured foot in the air as you comically jump around the kitchen, even though your lack of spatial awareness was to be blamed here. It is almost always a comical sight, Gaz rubbing your back in comfort while you curse and cry, failing to hide his amusement. Soap is not afraid to laugh at your face for it, while Price has this twinkle in his eye as he asks you to sit and eat something for breakfast. 
Simon ignores the flutter in his stomach when you take a seat next to him on the table, your wet hair letting out wafts of jasmine - all for him to smell and keep to himself. 
You cry when you accidentally let the door close on your pinky, dramatic hiccups leaving you as Soap ties up your little finger with white bandages, stroking your hair as he consoles you, "That's a brave lassie, yeah? You got this". (Soap has always been good with people, Simon notes.) Sometimes, Soap will be ‘kind enough’ to offer you to kiss your injuries better and you’d shove him, your face giving away the embarrassment and the humorous jest you feel around the demolition expert. 
You weep uncontrollably when you watch Marley and Me with Gaz in the rec room. Price and Ghost had been passing by, discussing the aftermath of a mission they had just returned from when they heard loud sobs coming from the usually empty room. They peer in to find both of you huddled close in soft blankets, a bowl of popcorn propped up in your lap and a box of tissues in Gaz’s lap, as you munch on the buttery snack and cry over the adorable dog finally being put to rest. You lean into Gaz for comfort and Ghost wonders if you still smell of mud and caked blood like you did on the field. 
Price decides to break up the party as he enters the room, clearing up his throat to grab the attention of his Sergeants. Your lip wobbles as he lightly scolds you, his brow laden with concern as he looks at you and tells you both to go get some much-needed rest. You pass him by as you leave the room, your hand being a feather’s touch away from his and he almost holds onto you. (He still has no idea why he almost reacted like that to you)
One time, Price had been sent to help Laswell out on a crucial mission and all you had accomplished during those three and a half weeks was mope around and wish your Captain were here. You’d be lying on the sofa in the common room and you’d whine to your companions. “I’m so bored. I miss Captain. I wish he was here”, you’d pout and Soap and Gaz would gang up on you, teasing you as they asked you whether you had some unresolved feelings for dear Price. (The idea of you coveting Price like a lover seemed ridiculous to him, really. You and the Captain? Not a chance)
And then there was that one time when you had to go on a solo mission (the first of you being on your own since you joined the task force, really) and when you had come back to him them, battered and bloodied and disheveled but still safe and sound and Price lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as if all the weight of the world has disappeared now that you’re back home, back to your team (where you now rightfully belong). You rush to them, running as if you cannot close the distance between them fast enough, and Price hugs you with steady arms as he lets you cry into his shoulder, wetting his uniform as you all but sob in relief, leaning on your Captain for support as your legs turn like jelly, unable to support the weight of your weary body. 
It must’ve been terrifying - being out there on the field, hostility and death surrounding you in all directions and the only person you could possibly rely on is yourself. Keeping yourself safe and sane as you navigate unknown terrain and fight off the monsters who wear the skins of humans and pollute the very Earth they have been raised on. Blood and gore and gunpowder clinging to you like a second skin as you pray to survive another night and make it back home safely. Back to your team. 
Back to your kind captain, and sergeants you have befriended and a cold Lieutenant who sometimes fails to hide the care he carries for you in his brown eyes. 
Price has a look of sympathy and understanding on his face as he drags you to the infirmary, even holding your trembling hand in his warm palm as you flinch at the sight of the large syringe needle and hiss in pain whenever the alcohol-soaked cotton is applied to your cuts. He soothes you with a gentle pat on your back, mindful of your treated injuries as he softly tells you to clean up and maybe get some much needed sleep, asking Gaz to supply you with something to eat before you doze off due to fatigue and the morphine still floating in your system. 
Ghost found it annoying for the most part - sometimes snapping at you to "Shut up and focus" on bad days and while he’s still irked at the sentimentality you possess, something that he and his comrades have willingly allowed to wither and die in their souls, a small part of him - a part of him that still resembles who Simon was, a mimicry of the humanness he hasn’t felt in his dead soul for years, worried about you. Worried sick about you and your emotions and the lack of lid you have on it. Worried if he had been too harsh on you because he doesn’t do emotions, and clearly he is out of his depth when it comes to dealing with people, but especially when it comes to dealing with you. 
He realizes he doesn’t mind you crying all that much. 
You go out for drinks to celebrate your successful solo mission and you spend the time you had lost on the field with your teammates - you play billiards with Gaz against Soap and Ghost and lose sorely, and then you try out a peg of whiskey the Captain has ordered and Price laughs heartily as you sputter and whine as the drink burns your esophagus. You somehow convince Ghost to teach you how to throw darts and he tries to not lean into your warmth as he stands behind you, his gloved hand holding your wrist as he positions you and teaches you how to throw the wooden dart you hold between your smooth fingers, and tells you all he knows about making sure that the little thing hits the dartboard without fail. 
Simon can smell your jasmine shampoo and your citrus perfume on you as he uses his hands to correct your posture. He can feel how soft and pliant you are under him, eager to obey and please him, and all he can think about is what it’d be like - being your confidante, being the voice of reason for you when you’re drowning in emotions, being a sturdy shoulder for you to cry on. 
And he knows for a fact that you’d be all that and more in a heartbeat if he allowed you to. 
You lean onto Simon for support, your head lolling onto his shoulder as he quietly guides you to your bedroom. You hum quietly as he carefully makes you lie down on your bed, removing your shoes for you and when you beg him to help you remove the little makeup you had applied for the night (Price blatantly ignoring the use of contraband because it’s you), he surprisingly complies. Years of applying camo paint on his face give him the needed experience around using micellar water and makeup wipes as he helps you prepare yourself for a night of mindless sleeping, which will be followed by a hangover in the morning plaguing almost all of them. (He swears he’ll force you to drink the ginger tea he’ll make, no matter how much you’d whine about it tasting ‘yucky’. He’d rather not have you hurling over everything like a cat with a persistent hairball stuck in its throat).
“I’m so happy”, you hum to yourself as Simon tilts your head up. 
“Close your eyes, Sergeant”, he orders and you comply, feeling the soaked cotton pad rub against your eyelids as your Lieutenant removes your pink eye shadow. It’s a pretty color on you, Simon thinks but he never says it out loud.  
You stay silent as he finishes up with your work, his calloused fingertips tilting and moving your head to look at any missed spots he might’ve overlooked in the dim bedroom light. 
“All done”, he scruffs, getting up on his feet and he hears you call out to him as he leaves the room.
“What is it?” he asks, wishing to be in his warm bed on this cold night. 
“Thank you, sir”, you say earnestly with your eyes shining with sincerity and an unrecognizable emotion. 
Simon observes you - you lying on your bed in the clothes you wore to the bar, with most of your makeup removed and your eyes struggling to stay open as intoxication and tiredness tempt you to forget the world and sleep.
A moment too late, he asks you, “What are you thanking me for, rookie?”
Only to find you out cold.
He sighs, draping the thin blanket over your shivering body and leaving you alone in your room. 
When you wake up the next day with a hangover headache, your makeup removed and your blanket draped over you tenderly, you make your way to the common kitchen and you ask your moody superior if he remembers anything from the night before - your hazy memory failing to cover the gaps in your memory. 
He gruffly says out, “No” and then hands you a cup of ginger tea, looking at you intensely as he waits for you to whine about the bitter taste of the tea he’s made for you. Knowing it’s a lost fight, you let out an exasperated sigh and thank your Lieutenant for the hangover cure. He looks at you a beat too long before leaving you to your own devices, exiting the room, and going God knows where. 
It takes him time, with all that he is and all that he has been through, to come to a new conclusion for his first impression of you. Steadily with time, Simon realizes that the reason you cry so easily is not because you're weak. 
It’s because you’re brave. 
Brave enough to express yourself and not fear rejection from others. Brave enough to show that you care, to show that you love life and people and everything life has to offer. Brave and kind and valiant in everything you do, Simon is almost jealous of your ability to be so open and free. He wonders what it would be like to let go and just allow himself to feel. 
It’d probably drown him alive. 
It might set him free. 
He’d never get the chance to know though. 
Now again, you sob as you put pressure on his abdomen wound as you talk to him with a wet, unstable voice, “Stay awake for me, Lt. We will all make it”. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. (You need that reassurance more than him anyway).
He’s sluggish, the blood loss and pain makes it hard for him to focus on your blurry face and the skull mask on his face doesn’t help him either. He’s immobile, despite trying his level best to raise his hand up so that he can wipe away the stray tears on your cheeks. He parts his lips to tell you to please stop crying, to tell you how he’s not worth the worry, he’s not worthy of your tears - not when he has vehemently admonished you for them all this time. 
But all he can do is let out a low moan of pain, his eyes rolling back in his head. He can hear your voice, can hear the worry and fear and panic as you call out to him, but everything is hard and he can hear you but comprehending your words is near impossible with the ringing in his ears and the whirring of the helicopter that came in to rescue him and his team. He’s aware of his teammates sitting beside him - he can imagine their solemn faces as they cope with the possibility of him succumbing to his wounds before they make it back to safety. But he focuses on you instead - sweet, radiant you who worries about everyone and everything; who wears her heart on her sleeve and still holds onto the hope that he will make it out of this ordeal alive, even though he can feel his life slipping away from him like the sands of time.
Each breath of his is labored, and Simon wishes for nothing more than to wipe away your tears or to maybe hold your soft self against his injured body, cradling you close to his heart as he vows to survive this for you. Only for you. 
Through black spots and dryness, he blinks up to look at you and he has this realization, a moment of pure ‘Eureka!’ as he observes your worsened state of being. 
You have never been prettier than this instant, crying over him and praying to any kind of deity who’d grant him the boon of life. 
Satisfied with his discovery and suddenly extremely tired, he allows himself to close his eyes, letting the fatigue win and the last thing he sees is you crying for him to stay alive and fight. 
The last thing he hears is your sobs as you beg someone, anyone to save your Lieutenant. 
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Note -
Title is thanks to the song 'Pretty When You Cry' by Lana Del Rey, although I wasn't actually listening to the song while writing this.
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chrisbesitos · 2 months ago
Note
Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:
Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop
idk if that makes any sense but yea
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love
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( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.
( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱
Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.
Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.
It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.
"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"
"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.
"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.
"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."
"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.
You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.
"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.
You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.
"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."
"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.
"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."
"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.
"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.
"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.
"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.
"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.
"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."
"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.
"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.
"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.
"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.
Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.
In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.
"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.
"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.
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he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)
tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2
taglist | masterlist
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thehighladywrites · 11 months ago
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The Airhead Chronicles
…and the surprise
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pairing: cassian x bimbo reader, inner circle x reader, nesta
summary: Not being able to avoid his family anymore, cassian brings you to meet them, despite the new bond. You all get along great and someone particular catches your eye👀 does the night end as amazingly as it began, though?
warnings: tragic backstory, reader’s mysterious aura is finally explained, i’m so sorry but i’ll have to villainize Nesta in this but I love her and will make a fluff fic with her soon
amara’s note: i’m sorry this took a while, life was kinda hectic but it’s all good now. This is quite a short bc i’m trying to build up some angst…
part one part two part three
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“Wha- Rhysie? What are you doing here?” Confusion washed over you as Rhys appeared, equally bewildered.
“This is mine and Feyre’s home, we live here, y/n. What brings you here?”
Your puzzled expression deepened. This wasn't adding up. You were supposed to meet Cassian's friends. Maybe you'd gotten the wrong house.
“I’m visiting my mate's friends. Look, I even baked a cake! Doesn’t it look so tasty?” You held up the cake as you flashed him your usual smile as he nodded absentmindedly.
“You two know each other?” Cassian's raised eyebrows reflected his confusion.
“Cassie, this is Rhys. He’s the friend I’ve been telling you about. You know, the one that helped me move and who I work for.” You introduced Cassian to Rhysand, unaware they'd been friends for half a millennium.
“Y/n, why don't you come inside? Feyre and Nyx are here too. I know they’d be thrilled to meet you,” Rhysand suggested, maintaining eye contact with Cassian, whose expression remained unreadable.
“Oh, I wish we could stay, but we have to like go. Gonna meet my handsome man’s friends, and just between us, they’re like super important people, so I need to prepare myself. But you might now them since you’re high lord.” You leaned in, whispering lowly.
Cassian squeezed your hands reassuringly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and say hi, I’ll just talk to Rhys for a second.”
With a smile, you kissed his cheek and skipped inside to greet with your dear friend Feyre and favorite little guy, Nyx.
Cassians pov:
“You want to tell me how the hell you know her?” Cassian struggled to process the revelation. The idea of you and Rhys already knowing each other left him in disbelief. He couldn't fathom how he was being vexed by your super amazing friend, only to find out he was Cassian's friend too.
“Listen, I didn’t know you were mated or anything. I’ve known her since we were faelings.” Rhysand raised his hands, signaling that he harbored no ill intentions towards you and hadn't done anything wrong.
Cassian backed away, hands on his hips, strolling to the drink cabinet. He grabbed two cups, plopping down on the sofa and ruffling his wings in a mix of frustration and contemplation.
“Rhysie, I’m not going to eat you up, unless you want me to. Come sit down and just talk to me.” Cassian huffed, a hint of amusement in his expression as he noticed Rhysand practically glued behind his desk. With a roll of his eyes, Rhys rounded the table and settled down next to his friend.
They sat in silence, downing their third glass of Rhysand's expensive scotch. A nod from Rhys indicated he was ready to explain everything, and he met Cassian's gaze as he began.
“Alright, so when me and my sister were younger, my father made us switch from our private education in Velaris to Hewn City. The bastard claimed he wanted us to toughen up a bit. It was pure evil if you ask me.” A disgusted expression crossed Rhys's face as he recalled the horrors the new educators put him and his sister through in an attempt to toughen them up. The treatment was truly horrible for all the children there.
“There, I met Y/n and her sisters. They were downright horrendous towards her, and so were her parents because she wasn’t learning as quickly as us. She was also highly sought after due to her beauty and kindness, something her sisters envied. Her father is the Master of Coin, so they're loaded, and they had us do classes together. All the masters' children had classes together, separate from the other children of the city, to showcase how higher educated we were, in my father’s words.”
Rhys sighed, taking a sip of his drink before continuing, “Me and Selene befriended her, and you should’ve seen how jealous her sisters were. As heir, I had a lot of ladies interested in my title, and her sisters were among them. So they spread lies, telling everyone how I was bedding her as mere teenagers when, in reality, I was teaching her the work our educator couldn’t be bothered to teach her. After the rumors spread, her parents pulled her out of school to stay at home and learn her place in the court—how to talk to suitors, how to dress and act in front others with higher titles. She was raised like some sort of prized horse, ready to be sold. It was disgusting, the number of times her parents tried to marry her off for the sake of a title. Every time they tried, I intervened.” He smirked at the memory of your parents angry faces as the high lords son interrupted yet another proposal.
Cassian was shocked, slowly taking in the information as he nuged Rhys to continue.
“So, what happened when you became high lord? Did she stay in the city or did she move?”
“After I became High Lord, I finally banned forced marriages and made it punishable. Her parents suddenly found no need for her, so they told her that she either found someone appropriate herself and convinced me it was love, or they would’ve gotten rid of her.”
Cassian's jaw tightened, his fist instinctively knuckling up. He was seriously one second away from flying there and taking matters into his own hands.
“So I told her parents that she was marrying a well-off lord in the Day Court and that she’d be well taken care of, not that they really cared.”
“And, before you jump to conclusions, yes, I did ask her if I should take care of them for her, but she's not keen on the idea. She's way more merciful than I am. Y/n actually asked me to keep my father as the Master of Coin and, believe it or not, she told me not to kill them. According to her, it's better to let them live and witness her thriving one day. Quite the plot twist, no?” Rhysand smiled at your words, thankful that he had a friend to help him survive back in the city.
His smile faded as he remembered the 49 years he spent away from his family friends and city.
“I got her a house in Aetherian Crest, and she has lived there ever since, even during Amarantha’s reign. The only ones who know she exists are Feyre and, well, Nyx too, but he isn’t old enough to understand that.”
A shared laugh echoed through the room at the mention of Nyx, the thought of the little one adding a touch of warmth to the heavy conversation.
Cassian, still perplexed, glanced between Rhysand and the glass in his hand. He couldn't quite grasp what you worked on and the role you played in his life.
“She says to work for you. What exactly does she do, and why did you have her swear to secrecy with that bargain tattoo?” Cassian's irritation grew as he contemplated the idea of you engaging in something so dangerous that it required an irreversible oath.
Rhysand took a deep breath, sensing Cassian's increasing irritation.
“Y/n handles delicate matters, specializing in extracting information from people. Her bubbly personality and openness make it easy for others to confide in her. Y/n oversees a team, playing a crucial role in our court. She chooses to stay hidden because she doesn’t want the weight of our responsibilities. The intel she gathers is extremely essential; I pass it on to Azriel, who acts based on her information. You know those thrilling missions you love so much? Many are based on her information. She is absolutely irreplaceable and knows everything about every court. I made her swear the same oath that you all have sworn for the protection of Velaris.”
Cassian was stunned, yet it all made perfect sense. It dawned on him that he had shared his childhood and spilled secrets to you in just a few weeks. It had taken him centuries to truly open up to the inner circle, and here you were, extracting information within a matter of days. You were so smooth; he hadn't even noticed it happening. Your ability to weave into his life seamlessly left him both amazed and, oddly, more enamored with you.
It would be insulting to express surprise. Cassian had a hunch that you were doing something extraordinary; he just didn't know the specifics. Now that he had the full picture, he felt an overwhelming sense of pride and admiration, realizing that you were even more remarkable than he had initially thought, if that was even possible.
“What? You thought we only had boring study sessions together? Me and Selene taught her how to spy, just the basics of listening for information; the rest is all her.” Rhysand snorted, raising an amused brow at Cassian while taking a sip of his drink.
Cassian sat back, absorbing the revelation. A mix of awe and admiration colored his expression.
“Damn,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on Rhysand. “I didn't know all this about her. Rhys, I'm proud of her. More than I thought possible. Fuck, I’m falling even harder for her, if that's even possible.”
Rhysand chuckled at Cassian's reaction and clapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations on the bond, brother. You'll find you fall for her in ways you never imagined. It's normal when you're bonded, trust me. The other day, Feyre showed me a new move she had practiced and I fell even harder.”
With a shared laugh, Rhysand and Cassian returned to the gathering, joining you and the others for dinner. The weight of revelations lingered but was set aside for the warmth of camaraderie, good company, and a meal shared among friends.
As he explained that the friends you had come to see were Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle, a blush crept onto your cheeks. The realization hit you – you had interacted with them so casually, forgetting for a moment that they were the most significant figures in the Night Court. But they were so nice to you, so did it really matter that you talked about ideal sex positions with the girls?
Seated at the dinner table, everyone enjoyed the meal together. You found yourself leaning into Cassian, the atmosphere around the table filled with laughter, shared stories, and the comforting feeling of being among friends.
Azriel had been sneaking glances at you, not really making much conversation, but occasionally cracked a dry joke or expressed his opinion on topics when asked. He found you interesting, not anything scandalous, he just knew there was more to you, his spymaster instincts picking up a mysterious vibe from you.
Amren just looked at you from head to to, nodding with a tiny movement, one you almost missed, and kept to herself the entire dinner, disappearing the second the food was gone.
Elain had been the most welcoming and openly discussed similar interests with you. She seemed to bond with you the most, appreciating your shared interests. You found her adorable and had complimented everything from her dress and hair to the flowers she planted on the table.
Later, in the sitting room, you and Cassian settled on the sofa, and Elain sat across the room. Eager to chat with her, you sauntered over, sitting extremely close.
Leaning in, you began, “Elain, I find you really, really cute. You remind me of a deer; I love them, they’re so adorable. And i heard tou killed the king of hybern. You’re soo brave!! ” Your words hung in the air, creating a bit of a nervous atmosphere, but Elain let out a small giggle at the proximity and the compliment.
“Ohh, thanks. You’re very pretty too. I like the bows in your hair. And it was nothing really, just protected my sisters.”
Your eyes widened at her cute stutter and the way she squirmed. Gods, she was sooo cute you thought you were gonna die!! You so desperately wanted to be friends with her.
You smiled at her one last time, leaving her with a pounding heart and a nervous smile. You skipped happily back to Cassian who looked mighty amused, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening with his mate.
Later during the evening, your arms wrapped around his massive bicep. Leaning your head on it, the warmth of the meal making you sleepy, you scooted closer to Cassian, placing both of your legs on one of his thighs as you rested on his arm.
In that moment, safety, warmth, and reassurance radiates from your mate.
“Cassie, I wanna sleep. M'soooo tired,” you mumbled against his warm skin. His rich laughter rumbled through his body, making you smile like a fool.
Holy fuck, you were so in love with him.
“It’s okay, baby. Do you want me to fly us back to your home or do you want to sleep in my old room?”
You perked up at the thought of seeing his old bedroom, filled with everything that defined him.
“Yes, please! Your old bedroom sounds super cool. Can't wait to see it. And, you know, maybe I could blow you or something?” you said, mundane, as if you were discussing the weather or the latest book you read
Honestly, like, who even cares if anyone hears you talking? It's totally okay to wanna please your mate, right? Ugh, people and their silly fucking rules, it was driving you crazy. If you wanna announce to the world that Cassian fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, then you totally should, no questions asked!
Giggles and laughs filled the room at your crude comment, everyone a bit tipsy after several bottles of wine were shared between you.
Cassian's strong and sturdy body carried you on his back as he gave you a piggyback ride through the house, providing a private tour before reaching his designated room in Rhysand's massive estate.
With your boobs pressed softly against his back, you tightened your arms around him, excitedly expressing your dirty wishes for what you wanted to do together.
His arousal was evident as his pants tightened around his cock.
His heart craved to cherish you eternally, eager to bring you joy in every way possible. In this short time, Cassian found himself wholeheartedly falling for you. Filled with a urgency, he yearned to share just how much you meant to him and the extraordinary lengths he'd go, wrapped in those three words and eight letters.
But life wasn’t a fairytale, especially his.
His body froze in shock as he swung open the door, completely taken aback by the unexpected sight of his old lover standing in the middle of his room. Her hands fidgeted nervously before a palpable wave of hatred emanated from her eyes as she shifted her gaze towards you, intensifying the unexpected and shocking nature of her visit.
You, still on top if Cassian, missed the tension in the air as he locked eyes with his old lover. The atmosphere crackled with unresolved emotions.
Cassian, with you still on his back, shifted uncomfortably, trying to gauge the situation.
He took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the unexpected encounter. “Nesta,” he said her name with a forced calmness that couldn't hide the turmoil beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”
Nesta's lips curled into a bitter smile, and her gaze never wavered. “I heard you found someone new. Thought I'd see what kind of female you thought could replace me.”
Your heart raced, realizing the depth of the history between them. The room felt charged with a mixture of tension and heartache.
“Cassie, who is she?”
You hopped down, stepping back, a rush of emotions hitting you as you witnessed a scene too familiar. Many before had desired to take you to bed but had never chosen commitment, leaving you with a lingering sense of being used and discarded.
In that moment, you couldn't help but feel the weight of past disappointments. Praying to every god, you desperately hoped this wasn't another painful chapter repeating itself.
Cassian wouldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t fuck you and toss you aside for a past flame, right?
You were utterly convinced that he couldn’t change that quickly.
So why did doubt and fear take root in you?
And why did his hand tense and curl in when you tried to touch it?
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🏷️ taglist: @just-a-social-casualty-1 @wallacewillow0773638 @dominika20hella10black @pinksmellslikelove @hellsenthero @val-writesstuff @paasrin
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lovepookie · 11 months ago
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₊˚ෆ Consequences - p.gw
♡ sypnosis: your boyfriend is park gunwook. sweet. cute. couldn’t hurt a fly. and you? a demon who wants to tick him off and see him jealous. gunwook doesn’t play when it comes to his feelings, so naturally, you’ll suffer the consequences—or maybe you won’t. you’re kinda his soft spot.
♡ genre: teeth rotting fluff, some angst, established relationship, boyfriend!gunwook
♡ 2.1k word count
♡ warnings: toxic?? a little emotional manipulation?? reader trying to get gunwook jealous, cursing, please let me know if i need to add any!
♡ nano note: idk guys i was just deep in my gunwook bag when i wrote this. he’s so 🥺…enjoy! xoxo
.♡.
You stared at your boyfriend on the couch, watching the way he maneuvered his long fingers across his phone screen, probably playing clash of clans like he always did.
The natural pout that his lips formed made your cheeks flush rosy.
He was just so cute. Just thinking about all the times that very pout had convinced you to do things for and with him had your heart racing.
Who could resist it?
This got you thinking…
You don’t think you’ve ever seen your sweet and caring boyfriend actually upset. Maybe bothered, but he’d always cover it up with a smile and/or talk out how he was feeling before those emotions escalated. It left you to believe that this healthy way of communication and emotional management had been one of the very reasons you fell for the boy.
As you watched him in his puffer jacket, pout still on display, black hair in his eyes, the devil on your shoulder started to talk to you.
How would he look angry?
You’d never seen him genuinely frustrated…
Now, now, now.
I know what you’re thinking!
This isn’t a good idea!
“You’re so in love with me huh? Just can’t stop staring…tsk tsk…” He mumbled out just for you to hear, a small boyish and teasing grin making its way onto his face before his lips pursed up like a duck.
The pink rosacea in his cheeks from the cold outside still hadn’t settled, and yet here he was, already on his bullshit.
His words made you roll your eyes as you decided to make your way to the other side of the couch.
Fuck what was right and wrong!
He teased you first, so let the games commence.
You scoff as you move, deciding to scroll through your own phone mindlessly for the award-winning act you were about to put on. “In love?…with you? Hah!” You chuckled out, intending to say it loud enough to where it wasn’t meant to be heard by him but still was.
He peaked over at you for the first time in a while and frowned a bit as you stretched your legs out to where your feet had ended at the side of his thighs.
You’d seen that frown before.
He’d do it when something was said that didn’t quite sit right with him and it would usually lead to a conversation.
This time, however, his hands found your ankles and pulled you closer by the leg, almost disregarding his phone altogether.
“What did you say?” He asks, peaking over at you as you screech from the sudden movement. You always forget about his strength, so the sudden pull forward caught you off guard.
“I didn’t say anything…” You say, never sparing a glance his way, face clearly ridden with irritatance.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, then his hands leave your ankles, but his elbow touches your sock-covered feet mindlessly. He goes back to playing on his phone, igniting a bigger want in you to continue the game that you were playing with him.
For a few silent moments, you thought through ways to get under his skin, deciding you weren’t good at truly hurting him without doing anything detrimental. Still, you smirk for a second when an idea comes to mind.
“Gunwook, can you please stop touching me?” You say, pulling your feet away so no contact would be made between you two.
That’s it! Hit him where it hurts; physical affection.
His head snaps to you, and he immediately flinches away from you as he processes your words. You’d never asked him that before…and definitely never whilst using his government name.
“Uh, yeah…sorry.” He mumbled, and now his frown is a pout.
A sad one.
You keep yourself from laughing at the scene, your chest aching for your baby boo and how mean you were being to him.
He didn’t deserve this!
You take him in for a moment as his fingers tap lightly on his screen. Random swipe, random tap…it was almost like he was fidgeting with his game at this point. Whatever was on his mind was clearly bothering and hindering him from focusing.
Suddenly, without warning, he’s quickly turning his phone off and turning his body towards you.
“Baby…do you want to eat something?” He says in a hopeful tone, thick eyebrows raised.
You barely spare him a glance.
“Not really…” you mumble, continuing to randomly type your feelings in the messaging app so it looked like you were texting someone at the moment.
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You spot Gunwook’s shoulders drop a bit, then he’s leaning back into the couch, just staring at you.
“I thought you texted me earlier that you hadn’t eaten yet…” He says as he watches you, his eyes a little serious. You continue to spare him no glance.
“I lied. I ate with a friend earlier. He left before you got here.” You lie, tone flat. At this point your pulse feels like it’s beating out of your chest. From the corner of your line of vision, you watch as he continues to stare at you, face blank and almost no emotions emitting at all.
It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your rib cage and hide under the couch with how serious he looked. This was not your pookie; it wasn’t even Gunwook at this point.
It felt like a stranger had taken over.
You can’t really blame him though; you too probably seemed like a stranger to him right now.
After a few more seconds of excruciatingly tense silence, he‘s standing and zipping up his coat, presumably getting ready to leave.
Your eyes shoot up, and when you catch a glimpse of his face, you knew you fucked up. It’s cold—unwaveringly cold.
Like a switch, you realize the game is over, and quickly stand to your feet. “Where are you going?” You ask, eyebrows raising and a scared smile rising to your face. Gunwook just looks past you and around for his belongings, sparing you not an ounce of his attention.
“I’m going to leave. You can call your friend back. Maybe you’d have more fun with him.” He says, and for a second you catch the glossiness in his eyes. Your heart drops immediately, and before you can even think, you’re launching yourself at him.
“Gunwook! No! Wookie i was just playing! It’s a joke I swear it’s a joke!” You say, arms tightening around his rigid frame whilst he goes still and stares past you.
“…”
There’s silence for a breif moment and you start to get really scared.
“Pookie you know it’s all jokes! I wanted to get you mad…It was stupid, I’m really sorry.” You say, chin on his chest as you cling onto him, manically begging him to listen.
He takes a moment before looking down at you, your faces impossibly close, a blank expression still present.
“…Say swear.” He says, looking down at you through his lashes, pout forming on his lips.
You can’t help but crack a smile, leaning on your tiptoes to peck his lips.
If it was up to you, you’d wish to kiss his pout away until it never returned.
So that’s what you do.
Peck.
Peck.
Peck.
And when you pull away with a “muah!” each time, his smile starts to appear and grow wider. Soon he’s fighting back the smile as he looks down at you, never once leaning down to aide the height difference as you struggle.
“Gunwook I swear! I swear on everything, it was just a joke. There was no guy here. I am really really hungry right now. I don’t want to see you upset. I’m sorry.” You ramble out, staring up at him.
He was your grey marshmallow right now, arms stuck to his sides and in his puffer jacket as you squeezed the life out of him.
And just like that, a full smile breaks out on his face, gummy and sweet. You smile too in response, but then you’re quickly squealing again when he breaks free of your squish and suddenly throws you over his shoulder.
“H-Hey! Put me down!” You yell, trying to steady yourself to be vertical again by using his back. He laughs and keeps you in the air however, arms strongly wrapped around your legs.
“No. I’m hungry and you made me wait.” He says, and you can hear the gummy smile in his tone. Soon he’s marching outside where snow is falling from the sky; reminants of a blizzard from a few days ago.
The cold air immediately hits your pajama-covered skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine. “W-we can order food! Take me back inside, I’m cold!! Put me down!” You yelp, hands on his shoulders as you look down at him, a smile never leaving your face.
He just looks up at you and laughs.
“Oh my- I’ve never seen you from this angle before.” He says, and his lips are doing that pursed thing again.
You blush, trying to visualize yourself in his position when a vivid image of your probable double-chin comes to mind.
“Sh-shut up-“ You try, but you’re cut off suddenly when his grip on you is loosening, and your body slides closer to the floor.
You’re suddenly aware of your sock-only covered feet so you screech and start to claw at his shoulders as you raise your legs.
“Gunwook! I don’t have shoes on-“
“You told me to put you down!” He’s laughing out, staring at you face to face now that you’ve shimmied your way down to eye-level.
You smack his chest, which ultimately doesn’t do much because of the layers he’s wearing.
“I’m going to get sick-“
“Good.” He says, interrupting you again, shiny stars in his eyes as he nods. You go quiet as you take him in, staring at the snow flakes littering the top of his head.
He stares back with that wide smile still on display whilst he tries to hide it. The sight nearly takes the cold feeling rising in your chest away. You felt warm.
In the middle of a blizzard—but warm.
“It’s what you get for trying to make me mad-“
“Gunwook, you’re stunning.” You say, cutting him off for the first time.
He’s shocked for a second as he looks in your eyes—it’s there where he can tell you mean what you say. He goes silent and his cheeks flush as he thinks about blaming it on the cold.
“Hey…that’s my line…” He says shyly, and without another second to spare he’s taking you back inside. Out of shyness, he opens the door quickly and places you down as soft as he can.
You smile, completely enamored by the warm giant. He shuffles into your home, shy and awkward as if he hasn’t been there twenty plus times before.
“G-go change. You’ll get sick.” He says through a stutter. You smile up at him, eyeing the snowflakes littered through his raven-locks.
So then you motion for him to come closer.
“W-what?” He asks, inching a small bit forward. You roll your eyes.
“I’m not going to do anything, come here and let me help you.” You say, giggling at his shy stubbornness. He blushes as he leans down, then your arms make their way up to pat the snow off of his head.
He’s smiling at you the whole time, eyes full of charm.
Eyes that read; she’s so into me.
Before you can pull away he’s mirroring you, moving to get the snow off of your hair but obnoxiously messing it up and tangling it in the process.
You laugh out in protest at this. “Hey! O-okay! I get it-“
But he doesn’t stop.
“We get it! Thank you-“
And without warning, his lips are on yours and cutting you off, large hands at both sides of your cheeks.
His lips are pillowy and warm and juxtapose his cold hands that are cupping your face like you’ll disappear in any second.
When he pulls away, his eyes immediately look into yours, hands never leaving your face. He leans in one more time, and naturally your eyes close on instinct.
Before he peppers another light kiss to your lips, he whispers out a few words accordingly—just like the little shit that he is;
“I’ll forgive you this time, cutie.”
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2024 © lovepookie
♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.
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notedchampagne · 5 months ago
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What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?
its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:
what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov
we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.
"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy
"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav
you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way
semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot
til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw
this became very long. im not sorry
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hwaslayer · 5 months ago
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flowers on the floor (kys) | part one.
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—summary: when yeosang decided he was going to take a month-long vacation, he was mainly hoping to get away from his mundane routine and the stress of work. he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet you and build a connection unlike he’s ever known. when the end of his vacation nears, promises are made to keep the relationship alive, to keep it blossoming. but eventually, as the reality settles in and the distance continues to put a wedge into your relationship, you drop your end of the promise without any trace. despite the heartbreak, all yeosang can do is think about you— hoping the universe will lead you to each other again.
—pairing: kang yeosang x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 30k | playlist
—content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, somewhat of a love at first sight/soulmate kinda thing?, mentions of a broken family relationship, family pressures and high expectations, mentions of past hookups/flings, hints at a toxic relationship/ex, alcohol consumption and intoxication, lots of making out and kissing lol, little acts of affection, bar scenes, dancing, unprotected sex, slight choking, subtle marking, fingering/clit play, mentions of oral, mentions of phone sex, handjob, multiple orgasms, aftercare, ANGST ooof, crying, overthinking and insecurities (lots of it), sorry if i missed anything!!
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Kang Yeosang is typically okay with routine. 
He wakes up at 6am on the dot every day and gets himself ready for work. He grabs a banana or some boiled eggs for a quick breakfast, waiting until he arrives at the office at 8am to grab his hot cup of black coffee. He’s usually the first to be in the kitchen, helping himself to the fresh pot before Jongho, Chaerin and Wooyoung [in that order] walk in for their own servings. They gather around and chat for a bit before they head to their desks and get to work. They all work on the finance team as finance managers, preparing monthly reports and acting as liaisons between the company’s departments and outside vendors/customers. It’s a pretty flexible job, as long as they get what they need to get done and meet deadlines and attend required meetings. Most people are nice and hardworking, his boss is fairly understanding with most circumstances. Yeosang gets paid well, too. In the end, he can’t really complain. After his work day ends at 5pm, he heads straight to the gym for a good, long workout before he’s grabbing dinner to go or heading home to whip something up. He showers, gets comfortable, then hops on for a game of League before he’s laying in bed and watching useless Youtube videos. 
Then, the routine starts all over again.
Lately though, the routine’s been frustrating. Annoying to deal with. Overwhelming. People had been leaving [either permanently or taking days off after days off], dumping all the work on him to take over. He’s been taking it without complaint, but for someone who hasn’t really taken time off in the past year, his patience was running thin. Body burning out. Everything suddenly felt so mundane. Monotonous. Maybe, he finally needed a break to do something different. Maybe, he just needed a break period. That’s why he’s taking a leave of absence for a month, that’s why Wooyoung’s sitting in the driver’s seat— his bestfriend of 10 years shooting him a weird look while he makes his way to the train station with Yeosang chillin’ in the front seat.
“Wow, you’re really doing this shit.”
“No, I just submitted my leave request for shits and giggles.” Yeosang looks at Wooyoung.
“What’re you even gonna do there for a month?”
“Be away from you and Jongho, and finally be at peace.”
“You’ll be missing us as soon as you hop off that train.” 
“Right.”
“Seriously, what’re you gonna do there? I hope you find a fuckbuddy to keep you sane.”
“You know, we’re not all like you. Needing a new starting five every damn week.”
“Eh, and where’s the fun in that?” Woo teases with a small laugh. “Kidding. But also not. Really do hope you get laid while you’re on vacation.” Yeosang shakes his head and continues to look out the window, watching as the surroundings quickly pass him by. He’s honestly not sure what he’ll do over the month. He picked the town that seemed to match his vibe lately. Lowkey. Peaceful. Near the water. Convenience. Slow paced. He could spend his days at the beach and be completely content. Or, even sitting all day in the in-law he’s renting near the beach just listening to the water crash against the sand. Hell, beats another day sitting at his desk plugging in numbers and making graphs before answering passive aggressive emails from the operations department. Anywhere but here.
“You better be a good fucking friend and call me while you’re out there.” Wooyoung finally makes it to the train station and pulls up to the passenger drop-off to help Yeosang gather his things from the trunk.
“I will.”
“I’ll miss you.” Woo pouts as he pulls him into a hug.
“I’ll be back.” Yeo laughs. “Take care of Jongho and Chaerin while I’m gone.”
“Damn, Chaerin’s probably gonna cry while you’re away.”
“Stop that. She’ll be fine.” Yeo rolls his eyes at Woo’s teasing attempt. Everyone knew Chaerin had feelings for Yeo. Unfortunately, he just didn’t see her that way since he’s always considered her a good friend since they met. He didn’t wanna ruin things, didn’t wanna force something to be there when there wasn’t. He especially didn’t wanna hurt her.
“Have fun. Be safe. Enjoy yourself. Meet new people. Get some—”
“Okay, bye!” Yeosang cuts him off and drags his luggage and backpack to the entrance of the train station, waving his last goodbye to Wooyoung.
It’s 30 minutes before the train arrives, and Yeosang was able to grab some coffee and some snacks at the small store near the platform before hopping on, storing his luggage safely and settling into his seat. It’ll be a 4 hour train ride, and he made sure to bring the book he’s been needing to finish, while also downloading new episodes of a few podcasts he follows. It’ll be enough in between his tiny naps. He doesn’t mind the trek, truthfully. He might later when he hops off and finally stretches it out, but overall, the train ride is soothing.
When he finally steps foot off of the train, he does feel a little awkward and out of place since he hadn’t really treated himself to travels in awhile. But, he is excited to finally be away from work. Excited to be alone. He gives Wooyoung a quick call to tell him he’s made it and that he’s on his way to the in-law he’s renting. He makes it a point to tell him that it already feels different than being in the city, and he feels like he can breathe. Maybe then, Wooyoung wouldn’t keep pressing him about being gone for so long in a little town. Wooyoung surprisingly lets him be and is relieved to hear he’s made it safely, making Yeo promise to send him pictures knowing full well Yeo hates pictures of any sort. He agrees though, just to get him off his case and end the call on a light note.
He arrives at the in-law and the owners who live in the house above greet him with a warm smile. They give him the code to punch in at the door before sharing their number in case of any emergencies. Yeosang likes that it’s on the opposite end of the beach because of the quiet residential area. Plus, he still gets a good view being that the beach is basically at their doorstep. It’s soothing, really, really soothing. He takes his time washing up and unpacking, making himself feel at home away from home. By the time he’s settled and given himself time to rest, it’s about to be dinner. He checks for food around the area and finds a restaurant with raving reviews— people mainly boasting about the attractive staff working there, along with the delicious food and fun atmosphere. Despite that, it’s about a 15 minute walk down the road, and Yeosang can actually see it from where he’s at. It sounds worse than it actually is, though. There are no inclines or hills he has to conquer for dinner. For his first night, that seems to be a good option.
“Ayo! What can I get started for you?” Yeosang walks in and is immediately greeted by a tall, young man. He’s probably an inch or so taller than him. Sharp features. Short black hair. Piercing eyes.
“Uh, a beer sounds good. Any. Plus, popcorn chicken?.” Yeosang plops onto a high chair while a menu is slipped his way.
“That’s all?”
“Yeah, not too hungry.”
“Sounds good. It’ll be over shortly.” He gives Yeosang a tiny, toothless smile before he’s calling for someone about his food and meeting another tall male at the corner of the shop behind the registers. The other is standing at about 6’0, Yeosang thinks. He’s got a good build, deep voice that echoes throughout the shop—
“Hi!” You greet him warmly with a smile, putting a napkin down followed by a cold glass and his beer. “Hm, I feel like I haven’t seen you around here. Are you visiting?”
“Uh, yeah.” Yeosang gives you a very tiny, almost subtle toothless smile. He’s just a little surprised from you after being pulled out of his thoughts. His people-watching.
“I’m Y/N.” His eyes dart to your nametag before meeting your eyes again. 
“Yeosang.” You look at Yeosang’s features, taking note of the beautiful birthmark near his eye, his sharp jawline, his brown hair softly framing his face. He must’ve caught on because his eyes are awkwardly drifting from you, around the room— back to you. 
“Nice to meet you, Yeosang.” You giggle. “Let me know if you need anything then, happy to show you around the town, too!” You respond cheerfully and Yeosang is almost puzzled at the energy you’re giving towards a stranger like himself. A reserved, awkward stranger at that.
“Sounds good. Thanks.” 
“I’ll be back with your food.” He nods. This time, it’s Yeosang’s turn to watch as you sway your hips and walk away from the table— greeting everyone along the way with that same smile, that same energy. Everything about you seems contagious, your laugh loud enough to bounce off the walls even with the music blasting through the speakers. But, it’s cute. It’s warm and oddly comforting to hear your laugh. It just reminds him that it’s the little things; that he’s here getting his time away from home to be in his own peace. Away from the familiar, from the hustle and bustle of the city life.
“Who is that guy? I feel like I’ve never seen him before.” Jungkook pushes the basket of popcorn chicken your way. 
“Mm. A visitor.” You shrug.
“We don’t get a lot of those nowadays.” He laughs. “Looks like you were tryna get friendly on the dude?”
“Hush, I just want him to feel welcomed.” Jungkook smirks.
“Okay. You do that.” He leans over the counter. “Aye! Make sure that chicken actually makes it to him, too. You little thief.” You look over your shoulder and flip him off with a laugh.
“Bro, can one of you change the music?” You shout over to Keeho and Mingi standing off to the side, not working per usual.
“What’s wrong with the song?” Mingi furrows his brows at the Spotify playlist.
“It’s too slow. Give me Bad Bunny or something?”
“Girl, we are not at a club. There are elderly people here. Calm down.” Keeho looks through the playlist. “Let’s just put on Jungkook’s covers.” Him and Mingi laugh.
“Hey!” Jungkook yells from the kitchen. “I knew I should’ve never sent you guys my covers. Assholes.” He points the spatula their way. Eventually, they decide to stick with some 90s music, throwing on Bring It All To Me by Blaque and Nsync to kick off the playlist. You give the boys a thumbs up as you bob your head and dance to the beat, making your way over to Yeosang with his basket of popcorn chicken.
“Here you go.” You smile at him and he gives you a tiny one in response.
“Thank you.” He pokes at one with the toothpick, popping it into his mouth.
“How long are you here for?” You move around the table to be directly in his view.
“A month.” Your eyes widen.
“A month?! In this ‘lil town?”
“Well..” Yeosang looks at you, brows furrowed. “I’m from the city so it’s different. It’s just..” He pauses, not sure why he’s explaining himself to a complete stranger. You get it, though. You’ve been there. “It’s new scenery.”
“Are you visiting someone, or do you have specific plans?” Yeosang looks at you before shrugging.
“Not really. Am I supposed to?”
“Just wondering what’d you do out here for a whole month.” You give him a small smile.
“I plan to do nothing but enjoy myself. Didn’t really think that would be an issue.” He looks at you and you chuckle.
“No, of course not. That sounds like a good time. I hope you do enjoy yourself.” You pull out a pen from the apron’s pocket and scribble out your number on a napkin. “If you ever need some recommendations, text me. I’ll be happy to help.” You pass it along to him and he simply looks down at it. He doesn’t wanna be rude, but he is also grateful you offered. Though, the whole point of him coming out here was to be alone and be in his own peace. The last thing he wants to do is get wrapped up in something, someone, else when he doesn’t plan on staying or making this a frequent vacation destination.
“Cool, thanks.”
“Where are you staying?” 
“An in-law studio down the street, opposite end of the beach.”
“Oh, cute.” You smile at him cutely again. “Well, enjoy your little vacation, Yeosang. It was nice meeting you. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“I’m all good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I should head out. I’m pretty exhausted from the trek over.”
“Okay then. You can call me when you’re ready to pay or pay upfront with Keeho.” You give him a little, innocent wink and Yeosang can’t help but think your attitude is cute. Enticing, even. But, he brushes it off quickly because he really doesn’t think he can afford to cling onto someone, rely on someone.
He is here for his own peace.
When Yeosang wraps up his dinner, he tidies up as much as possible at the table and grabs the napkin with your number before heading to the register to pay. Keeho quickly rings him up and sends him on his way, telling him to visit again soon. All Yeo can do in return is nod, taking a mint candy on the way out.
“Where’d you go for dinner?” 
“Some restaurant down the street. Had good reviews.” Yeosang plops onto his bed after washing up and getting into his pajamas.
“Did you like it? How are the people there so far?”
“Good, I guess? The restaurant was cool. I just had something small to eat cause I wasn’t too hungry. The people working there were probably around our age. Lots of the reviews talked about the attractive staff.” Wooyoung snorts.
“Did they live up to your expectations?”
“Honestly, I can see why people are talking about it so much. The girl who served me was—”
“—Was a baddie?!”
“Dude, relax.” Yeosang laughs a bit. “She was pretty. Really outgoing.”
“Maybe she thinks you’re hot and wants to fuck.”
“We’re not all like you.” Yeosang repeats.
“Hey, it might be fun, though. You could use some friends while you’re there. Jeez. Ask her to hang out or something. Don’t be lame just cause you’re in a brand new town, that isn’t the point of getaway.” Yeosang doesn’t respond right away. All he can do is hum, letting Wooyoung continue to tell him that having new company will bring new memories, new stories, and he should really make the best out of his time there. For once, Wooyoung’s not entirely wrong. 
The next couple of days, Yeosang sees you around town. Whether you’re helping carry tubs of fresh fish into the market, talking to the elderly at the community center or chopping it up with the barista at the nearby coffee shop. You are everywhere and nowhere all at once, and Yeosang feels like it’ll be hard to dodge you while being here. Not because he’s a careless, cold asshole but because he just finds his independence important. His top priority. His daily reminder of why he’s out here. But needless to say, even if he can’t dodge you, he finds that he isn’t entirely mad about it. When Yeosang sees you next, you’re hauling in heavy ass packs of water into another restaurant. He pauses for a second, watching how you easily lift up the pack and bring it inside, oblivious to his standing figure ahead. He finally pulls himself out of it and rushes over, blocking you from carrying the last pack.
“You shouldn’t be carrying that.” Yeosang says, grabbing the heavy pack of water into the restaurant and setting it down on the counter. “Be careful next time?”
“Thank you.” You smile sweetly at him. “Didn’t mean to put you to work on your vacay.” He chuckles.
“Nah, it’s nothing. I’m not gonna let you just haul that in.” You place your hand on your hip and giggle.
“What have you been up to, Yeosang? How’s town treating you?”
“Uh, good? I’ve just been walking around nearby. Hanging out at the beach.”
“Fun. You should talk to Mingi and Keeho at the restaurant, they love paddle boarding if you’re like.. interested in trying something new.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He tucks his hands into his pockets. “Do you work here, too?” You shake your head.
“Just like being a good neighbor and helping out whenever I can.” He nods.
“That’s sweet of you.”
“Gonna stop by the restaurant again tonight? There’s gonna be a bonfire and movie night event. We’ll be serving beer and all that good stuff.”
“Tonight?”
“The flyers are everywhere, silly.” You point at a flyer posted on the pole behind him. “Come, it’ll be fun.”
“Mm, I’ll think about it.” You cock your head to the side and slightly pout. “Sorry, it’s just not my thing. I..” Yeosang lets out a breath as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I probably sound really lame. But, lots of people. Noise. Gets kinda overwhelming.” He shrugs.
“I understand.” You give him a tiny toothless smile. “That’s okay! I promise it won’t be too crazy, and it’s pretty chill. But, totally up to you.”
“Thanks for extending the invite.” You nod. “Any more water to carry in?” You laugh.
“Nope! Thank you again. See you around?” Yeosang nods, watching as you step into the restaurant and start helping the middle-aged lady inside despite her playful efforts of shoo’ing you away. Yeosang shifts his gaze to his two feet, kicking at the rocks beneath them before walking down the path to the grocery store. He’s kinda cursing himself for sounding so fucking lame in front of you. Lots of people? Noise? What was he thinking? It wasn’t necessarily a lie, though— he actually doesn’t like to be in crowded places for long, doesn’t really like to party or do bonfires, socialize for long periods of time with people he doesn’t know well. Is the type of person to join a team dinner for the free food but will be gone in the next hour or so. Will join a work party because he feels obligated to show face for at least an hour before rushing home to get in bed. But, he’s cursing himself because he is on vacation, exploring new territory and breathing in new scenery. He should have some fun. He should’ve tried a little harder to sound a bit more interested.
“Jesus, Kang Yeosang.” He mutters to himself before shaking his head and heading off to the grocery store to grab some necessities for the studio.
That evening comes quickly, and Yeosang is pacing back and forth in his studio, wondering if he should just say fuck it and join the festivities. He’d say he decided pretty quickly despite the internal battle of what to wear— the stress and overthinking almost causing him to back out.
Sooner or later, he finds himself staring out at the restaurant and beach ahead of him; feet coming to a pause when he tries to scan the crowd from where he stands, suddenly trying to find a familiar figure— you. He slowly walks over, closing in on the crowd that has gathered around the huge bonfire on the beach while the screen is getting blown up on the side to prepare for the movie. He’s pretty late, maybe a good hour and a half since everything started. No one seems to pay him any mind, and it’s almost enough to make Yeosang turn right back around and slip back into his—
“Yeosang!” He hears a familiar voice call his name from behind, allowing his body to relax a bit. “You came!” You smile from ear to ear, placing a basket full of fried squid down for the people lounging nearby.
“Couldn’t hurt to check it out.” You chuckle.
“You’ll enjoy it. Promise. Want me to grab you some beer? Any food?”
“Beer is good. Thank you.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile. You give him a nod in acknowledgement before you scurry off into the restaurant and grab a beer bottle.
“Hey, he came?” Jungkook comes out from the kitchen, taking a break from all the cooking he’s been doing.
“Yeah.”
“Must like you.”
“Can you give it a break?” You laugh a bit. “He’s exploring a new town for a month.”
“Cute.” He wiggles his eyebrows, following you out onto the front patio that flows onto the beach.
“Here.” You hand Yeosang the bottle. “This is Jungkook, by the way. Our main chef. Jungkook, Yeosang.”
“Nice to meet you. Hope she hasn’t been running you up the wall already.” You nudge him and he lets out a small yelp, hand over his stomach before his free hand reaches for a hand shake. “Kidding—fuck.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Yeosang chuckles.
“Oh, hey. You were at the restaurant a couple of days ago. I rang you up.” Keeho and Mingi come from the side of the restaurant, hauling out a cooler full of more beer and canned cocktails. “Keeho. Mingi.” He points to himself before pointing at Mingi.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Movie’s about to start in the next 15 minutes.” Jungkook pops open one of the cans and drags a chair out to the sand, greeting people along the way before he finds a good spot.
“Gonna stay for the movie?” Mingi asks Yeosang. He can’t help but shift his attention to you for a brief second, hoping you’d have the answer for whatever reason. You look up at him with those cute, doe-eyes, subtly nodding with a small smile creeping up at the corner of your lips.
“Yeah, for a bit.” He returns his attention to Mingi.
“Cool. There’s some bean bags there you can grab to sit on!” Him and Keeho start heading out to sit next to Jungkook and a few other people from town.
“Come.” You call him over towards the bean bags set off to the side. “We can sit over here, give us some distance from people.” You drag a bean bag near the side, still good to see the screen but distant enough so you weren’t mixed within the crowd.
“I— You don’t have to sit here and be away from your friends.” You laugh and plop down onto the bean bag.
“Trust me, it’s nice to be away from them. I see them every day.” Yeosang slowly nods, setting his bean bag next to yours. 
“What movie’s playing?”
“Dune.”
“Interesting.” Yeosang looks around as he settles into the bag comfortably, legs slightly spread while he leans back. “Are people gonna be out here for the entire movie?”
“Mhm. You really don’t have to stay for the entire thing, though.” You point at the restaurant. “Do you wanna share some snacks? Candy? Popcorn?”
“Sure? Anything you grab is good with me.” You give him a tiny smile before heading to the restaurant and scooping a big helping of the candy salad you, Keeho and Mingi made earlier for people to help themselves to. It had some sour worms, gummy bears, other gummies and fruity candy. 
When you get back, the movie is already starting and the chatter from people has died down around you. The night is perfect— the stars are painting the skies, the temperature perfectly warm and still. Yeosang is already paying full attention to the movie, finding interest in it that he didn’t think he’d have initially. You gently nudge him with the bowl, allowing him to snack on a few gummies. At some point, Yeosang accidentally dips his hand into the bowl at the same time as you; grazing your hand slightly and flinching at the contact. He lets out a low ‘sorry,’ shifting in his seat at the awkward encounter. When it finally hits the 2-hr mark, you’re actually getting kinda tired of sitting there and don’t think you can wait until the rest of the 30 mins or so are up. It had been a long day, and as much as you wanna hang out and kick it ‘till the end, you find your body getting hit with exhaustion earlier than expected. You stand to your feet and head back into the restaurant, cleaning up what you can to give the boys less work later on. 
“Need help?” You turn to find Yeosang standing there, hands dug into his pockets as you wash a few dishes and set them on the drying rack.
“No. The boys can handle the rest.” You dry off your hands. “Thank you, though.”
“Are you heading back to the movie?”
“Probably not. I think I’m gonna call it a night, exhaustion hit me out of nowhere.”
“Can I walk you?”
“I’ll be fine. You should catch the rest of it, you looked like you were into it!” You giggle.
“I can always catch it another time.” You stare into his eyes for a brief second before clearing your throat and nodding, tossing the paper towel away before grabbing your things. 
“What, you’re leaving?! That’s new.” Keeho says, coming into the restaurant to place a few more dirty dishes off to the side.
“Exhausted, my dude.” He looks at you up and down before looking at Yeosang, patiently waiting off to the side of the restaurant for you.
“Mhm. Sure.” He says lowly. “Let me know how it goes.”
“Just walking me home.”
“Uh huh, that’s how it all starts.” You snort and punch him on the bicep.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Aye, you’re opening, remember!” Keeho calls out as you meet Yeosang. You wave in acknowledgement before heading out, throwing on your bag strap and letting it hang over your shoulder. The walk is pretty quiet at first, but it isn’t uncomfortable for you. Maybe for Yeosang, but not you. He’s the first to break the silence though, surprising you again with his curiousity.
“Do you work at the restaurant every day?”
“For the most part. Otherwise I’m either around town or helping at the animal shelter.”
“The animal shelter?” You nod.
“One of my favorite things to do.”
“That’s cool.”
“Have you found anything interesting while you’ve been here? Anything you’re planning to do?”
“Mm, not really. To be honest, I just wanted to get away from the city. There wasn’t a huge goal to explore the town or find new hobbies.” He looks at you before looking down at his feet.
“Well, I’m sure either way you’ll find things to enjoy.” You point down the street. “I just live right over there, by the way. You don’t really have to walk me all the way.”
“It’s alright.”
“Did you at least enjoy hanging out a bit?”
“Yeah. T’was nice to see people get together.”
“It’s a small town. We don’t have much to do in the first place.” You laugh. “Everyone’s really chill, though. Soon, you’ll be able to pick out familiar faces, overhear the same names being thrown around, get used to who is working where, what the restaurant specialties are.” 
“I think I’m slowly getting there.” Yeosang looks at you. 
“Besides me, silly.” You continue to keep eye contact with him. “Hey. Do you have any siblings?”
“No.”
“Are your parents from the city?”
“Yeah.” 
“Are you close to them?”
“As can be, I guess?”
“Hm.” You hum. “So, you see them often?”
“I do.” You look down at your feet, and it’s easy for Yeosang to tell that something is on your mind. He won’t pry though, he doesn’t necessarily think he has the right to. Nor is it his place to.
“They were okay with you up and leaving for a month?” He shrugs.
“I mean, I am coming back.” He chuckles a bit. “They understood.”
“That’s nice.” Is all you respond with.
“Soo..” Yeosang kicks at the rocks. “You’re working the early shift tomorrow then..?”
“To the shelter.”
“I see.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know. Hang out at the beach some more?”
“When are you gonna stop by the restaurant again?” You giggle, treading up the hill before turning the corner to your building. The building isn’t entirely fancy, nor is it completely run down. It’s cozy enough to house 18 units— your studio one of two on the very first level. Yeosang pauses in his steps when he sees you fishing for your keys in your bag, doing his best to give you space and not wanting to intrude.
“One of these days.”
“You plan to be back?” Yeosang chuckles a bit and nods.
“At some point during my month’s stay I’m gonna have to.”
“Thanks for walking me home. Hope you enjoyed tonight, even though we didn’t finish the movie and stuff.” He gives you a toothless smile.
“Yeah.”
“Goodnight.” You look at him once more before unlocking the lobby door, stepping in to make your way to your safe space.
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In the next few days, you run into Yeosang a lot. Even if it’s inevitable with how small the town is, there are people in town that you don’t see for weeks on end. For reasons why, you aren’t sure. Wrong timing, other plans, your own schedule being pretty busy between the restaurant and the shelter. But you’ve been seeing Yeosang every day since he walked you home; whether it be across the street, a glimpse at the convenience store, checking out at the grocery store, at the beach. You’re not gonna lie, Yeosang is attractive, but there’s more to him and you’re curious to find out. You want to know more about him, why he’s here for a month, why he decided he needed a break from the city. Something about him is intriguing to you.
Tonight, you’re wrapping up at the shelter; folding the remaining washed blankets and towels from the dryer before taking out the trash. To your surprise, Yeosang is walking down the street from the nearby gym and sauna, spotting you first before you even have the chance to.
“Y/N?” He stops in his tracks, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. You turn just as you toss the hefty trash bag into the dumpster, safely removing your gloves from each hand before tossing them into the bin as well.
“Oh hey you!” You wave and smile at him, and for some reason, it’s starting to make Yeosang weak. You always show off the beautiful smile and that same energy, it’s no wonder you pull everyone in.
“Is this the shelter?” Yeosang asks, eyeing the building. It’s rather small, and there’s not much of a giveaway that it’s a shelter. Still, Yeosang feels kinda silly for asking.
“Mhm. Come!” You wave him in as you stand at the back door.
“Uh. I’m kinda gross and sweaty from the gym.”
“I really don’t care.” You laugh. “Come. I can show you the babies.” Yeosang doesn’t say anything in response, and instead, walks in while tugging his duffle bag close. “You can leave your bag here. It’s just me and I’ll be closing up soon.” You show him to the laundry room. Yeosang sits his bag on the counter before following you out of the back area and into the shelter itself— dogs in individual rooms, while cats, bunnies and a few other small animals [snakes, birds] are off to two other rooms at the other end. “The wildlife center and vet are in the building next door. I don’t go there much unless they need extra hands, but that’s rare.”
“Woah.” He mutters to himself when he sees the huge, black doberman peacefully sleeping in his room. He slowly walks past and smiles at the tiny maltese next door, looking up at him from the cot; big, brown doe eyes that could easily melt someone’s heart. “How cute.”
“Isn’t she? This is Piper.” You point at the maltese. “That’s Ro.” You point at the doberman. “Piper was found wandering the streets, no one came looking for her.” You pout a bit. “She’s five. Ro was surrendered by his family. His owner had a stroke and is in the hospital, and no one else in the family can take care of him. He’s 8.” 
“That’s sad.” Yeosang responds softly as he stands next to you, your own shoulder only inches away from his chest. “How long have they been here?”
“Piper’s been here for about a month, while Ro has been here for 4.” You show him to the other rooms down the aisle. “Sahara, Thor, Rocky, Storm, Bruce.” You continue to tell him their name, their ages, how long they’ve been here and for what reason. The remaining dogs are a mix of chihuahas, huskies and labrador mixes. Yeosang watches as you gently coo at the dogs when they come to their door, keeping your hand on the glass to provide some sort of comfort from the other end. He smiles a bit to himself when you baby the dogs. It’s incredibly cute and sweet, and it’s obvious just how much you love being here and how much this work means to you.
You continue to take him through the rest of the adoptable animals, earning small chuckles when you tell him some cute, funny stories about your time at the shelter. It’s then that you reveal you’ve always wanted to work with animals and that it’s still eventually your goal to climb up somehow. Maybe work at a more established vet or pet hospital. Aquarium, even. Anything that’ll keep you close to them will do. Yeosang doesn’t really question why you just don’t go for it yet— he’s more of a listener than a talker, and he understands that most people won’t divulge unless they’re ready to or feel comfortable enough to. So, as always, he lets it be. Listens to your soothing voice as you continue around the shelter before you’re doing one last walkthrough and making sure all water bowls are full. You head to the back once you’re done, reuniting Yeosang with his belongings.
“Thanks for showing me around.”
“Course.”
“Can I walk you home again?” You shut off the lights to the laundry room and head out the back door, slipping the key in to lock it up for the night.
“You sure? I still have to grab some dinner.” 
“I don’t mind. I want to.” He says, and it makes you smile. “Besides, the air feels really nice right now. I’m still a bit worked up from the gym session.” You laugh.
“It’s quite chilly tonight.” You shiver at the breeze that comes through. Yeosang digs through his duffle bag and pulls out the zip-up hoodie he wore over, handing it over to you.
“Here.”
“Oh, no. Yeosang, I’m fine, I don’t—” Before you know it, he’s unzipping the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. He avoids eye contact though, it’s easy to tell he doesn’t really do these things or that it’s out of his element. “Thank you.” You say softly, hoping to reassure his actions.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m just gonna grab stuff from the convenience store.” You lead the way and skip along to the convenience store just down the street. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” He follows you into the store anyway, watching as you happily grab some ramen and onigiri off the shelves. A hotdog. String cheese. Chocolate ice cream. 
“Need anything?”
“I’m good. I stocked up on some groceries so I should definitely put them to use and cook some meals.” 
“Share an ice cream with me at least?” You grab another chocolate ice cream from the freezer. 
“Sure.” You laugh as you bring your items to the cashier, helping bag the items before you’re finally out the door and indulging in your ice cream with Yeosang. You look at him again, eyeing the loose muscle tank he has on with his sweats. Ogling a tiny bit at his body through the tank.
“Good on you for keeping up with the gym while you’re away from home.” He chuckles.
“A stress reliever.”
“I bet. Jungkook goes to that gym often, pretty late though since he’s always at the restaurant.”
“Does he own the restaurant?”
“His family does. They pop in from time to time, but Jungkook has taken over for the most part.”
“I see. I’m guessing you’ve known them for awhile?” You smirk.
“Enough for me to be liked and hired.” 
“How long have you known Keeho and Mingi?”
“Mm, I’ve known all of them for a bit over 2 years. Mingi and Keeho were at the restaurant before me, but I just got close to them as I started there.”
“Where were you before that, if you don’t mind me asking?” You smile.
“Yeosang is interested in getting to know me?” He laughs a bit and shakes his head.
“I’m just curious, but you don’t have to share if you don’t wanna.”
“I was in school. Around. Getting my life together— well, still am I guess.”
“Hm.” He hums. “We’re not that far apart. I graduated 3 years ago.”
“What’d you graduate in, and where do you work?”
“Business. I work as a finance manager for a pharmaceutical company.”
“Woah, big shot.” He laughs shyly.
“No, not even.”
“Do you like it?” He shrugs.
“Yeah, I can’t complain. I’ve met my good friends there.”
“That’s always nice, isn’t it?” You look up with a toothless smile before eating more of your chocolate ice cream. “That’s always the best. I’m sure they miss you.”
“Ah, they’re doing alright. They can survive.” You nod.
“Hey, have you gone hiking yet at the falls?” He raises a brow.
“You guys have that here?” You snort.
“You’re funny. You’d have to go back to the outskirts to find the trail.” You start walking backwards to keep your eyes on him. “We should go one day, yeah? Maybe I can show you to other spots further in town.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t. I haven’t gone hiking in awhile and it’s perfect right now. The water is probably rushing through the cascades, making it all pretty and everything.”
“When are you free?”
“This weekend. I finally have it off after some months.”
“You’d be okay spending your free weekend showing me around?”
“I wouldn’t have offered at the restaurant if I didn’t want to.” You giggle and Yeosang feels his heart do some flips. Familiar with the unfamiliar— he hadn’t felt this in a long, long time. Though, he didn’t expect to feel it with a stranger he had bumped into on his little vacation away from home. Wasn’t even his goal and he didn’t mean to do so, but here he is. Going about every day growing more curious about you.
“Well, just remember this if you ever use it against me.” You laugh loudly and turn to start skipping ahead towards your building.
“I will.” You toss your empty ice cream container into the trash, with Yeosang following suit. “Thanks for walking me home again.” You unzip his jacket and hand it over to him. “I’m only a few steps away from warmth.” He gently takes his jacket back.
“No biggie. These walks help me get my steps in, but thanks for the ice cream? It’s like a reward.”
“Of course.” You give him another sweet smile, eyes locked onto his but it doesn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable. “At least stop by the restaurant tomorrow. Breakfast is good.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile; tugging on his bag strap before shifting his weight from one foot to another.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Goodnight, Yeosang.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He waits until you’ve slipped through the lobby door, turning on his heel with a small smile on his face, finding comfort in your presence that it feels a little difficult to walk away. He does walk away though because he finds himself uninteresting. Even if he stayed to hang out, how could he entertain you and keep you interested?
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“Yeosang’s out there.” Jungkook nods towards the street, watching Yeosang finish up a run.
“I told him to come by for breakfast.” He smirks at you before setting the napkins into the holder on the table.
“Oh, you did now?”
“Jeon Jungkook.” You give him a look and he snorts.
“So, remind me again— you were or weren’t trying to get friendly on the dude?”
“It doesn’t hurt to have a friend while he’s around! I offered to show him further into town and take him on the hike.”
“Cute.” He laughs. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt you though, or else I’ll come with my spatula and shit.”
“Or, make sure this girl doesn’t go toying around with his feelings.” Keeho adds, sliding into the main dining area from the back. “Right?” Keeho looks at you and you roll your eyes.
“Not even.”
“What about that one dude that stayed here for a few months? You had a ‘lil fling with him before he ended up leaving cause he hated seeing you around after you rejected him.” Keeho puckers his lips. “Months of tussling in the bed ain’t give him nothing but heartbreak. Sheesh.”
“Okay, I didn’t plan for that to happen! And he was weirdly possessive even while we were messing around. I already told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious at the time.”
“She did tell him.” Jungkook shrugs. “And I do have to say, he was a little weird. Too clingy and needy. At the restaurant every hour. Couldn’t give Y/N space to breathe for someone who’s a fuckbuddy.”
“What about Keeho’s friend that visited? I forgot his name.” Mingi chimes in, helping himself to a bowl of breakfast.
“Don’t remind me, dude. He still cries about it.”
“So dramatic.” You cross your arms. “My bad for not wanting something serious during those times. You can’t say I didn’t tell them because I did.”
“Mm, but you were pretty harsh about it in the end, too. You blocked him on everything and acted like he didn’t exist. That’s why he still fucking cries about it.” You shake your head.
“What’re you planning with him?” Mingi cuts in as he watches Yeosang’s figure, still on his way towards the restaurant. “He genuinely looks like a good guy.”
“Why do I need to have a plan, Mingi?” You shoot him a look. “He’s cool. Just trying to be a good friend to him while he’s around.”
“Mhm. Won’t be surprised when you start batting those little eyelashes and twirling your hair in front of him. Go ahead then, bae.” Keeho smacks his lips together before walking off to tend to the customers that just walked in. When Yeosang finally arrives, he’s in a windbreaker and pants, his hair still beautifully parted and intact despite the small breeze outside. He looks incredibly ethereal for someone who had just gone on a run, and it almost makes you buckle at the knees the more you stare.
“Hey.” You break your thoughts and smile at him. “You made it!”
“Someone told me I could grab a good breakfast here.” You laugh and show him to a table, letting him get comfortable.
“Whoever it was, was right. How was your run?”
“A good long 3 miles.”
“You’re insane.” You snort. “Gym last night, 3 miles in the morning? You basically ran around town.” He laughs and shakes his head.
“I just needed to get my cardio in. Definitely didn’t enjoy it.”
“Well, do you have anything specific in mind for breakfast or can I surprise you?”
“A surprise sounds nice.”
“Got you.” You gently tap the table before heading to the back, putting in an order for today’s breakfast special. You fill up a glass full of freshly squeezed orange juice and take it to the table before dropping off food to the other customers. 
“Got a plate for your man.” Jungkook slides the breakfast special to you, making you chuckle.
“You’re a piece of shit. Thank you.” You raise the plate before sticking out your tongue and walking off to Yeosang again. “Enjoy.” You look at him with a small smile, watching his eyes light up at the food on the plate. He immediately digs in and nods happily, making you giggle at how cute he looks right now.
“Please tell Jungkook he’s an amazing cook.”
“Never. He’ll never let it go.” You laugh. “But sure, I’ll make sure to relay the message for you. Any other plans today?” He shakes his head.
“Not that I know of yet.” You nod, looking back at new customers that need assistance.
“Well. Let me know if you need help figuring it out.” You slide him a few napkins. “Sorry, I’ll be back to check on you later.” You rush over to the customers and greet them happily, they can’t help but smile and laugh along with you. Yeosang doesn’t mean to let his eyes linger for long, but he finds your energy captivating and he’s got a pull to you.
It doesn’t help that the restaurant gets quite busy during peak breakfast hours and you’re barely checking in on him. He feels a bit lonely, though he knows you’re at work and he shouldn’t expect to converse with you much.
“I’m so sorry, it just got really busy out of nowhere.” You pout a bit when you finally stop by to grab his empty plate. “Can I get you anything else?” He shakes his head.
“Don’t worry, Y/N.” He chuckles. “I’m all good.” You rush over to drop his empty dishes in the dirty pile, grabbing his check to hand over.
“I’ll see you around?” You give him a smile before you run off again, leaving him to take the check to Mingi at the front.
“Enjoy your breakfast?” Yeo nods.
“Yeah, it was great.”
“Any other plans for the day?”
“Nah, not yet. Probably hang out at the beach tonight, figure out the rest later.”
“That’s always a good one. Get Y/N to go with you. She’s usually out there at night from time to time.”
“Oh, really? Doing what?”
“Just to chill. She also tries to collect shells, but I swear, they’re all the same out there. I don’t know what else she wants.” Mingi shakes his head. “Anyway, see you next time, my guy.”
“Sounds good.” Yeosang slips a tip into the tip jar before heading back out to his humble abode. When he gets back, he takes a good shower and plops onto the bed in a new change of clothes. He pulls up the game on his phone to play for a bit before researching a few more things to do in the coming weeks. But, he isn’t sure what’s worth visiting and what’s worth passing on. Then, he falls asleep for a good hour or so [maybe nearing 2] before he gets up and decides to stop being boring. He’ll explore around the other end of town, see what places are around and what scenic views he can take pictures of. Then.. what?
He remembers he still has your number in his jacket, and he’s considering taking up the offer of letting you show him around [or at the very least, guide him to places he should visit]. When he gets back from his trek around the opposite end of town with a few goodies in hand, he realizes it’ll be dinner soon and that he should really decide on what to do tonight. He whips the number out of his jacket pocket and stares at it for a good while, wondering if he should just say fuck it and text you.
Yeah, well. Fuck it. What does he have to lose at this point?
[unknown number]: hey, it’s yeosang 
[you]: hey you ☺️ you’re actually putting my number to use?! lol
[yeosang]: lol yeah sorry, i just don’t really wanna be a bother to anyone
[you]: you aren’t! how can i help? 
[yeosang]: if you’re free.. i was wondering if you’d like to hang out at the beach?
[yeosang]: also don’t feel obligated, i just thought it’d be nice cause the weather .. and i haven’t really had the chance to hang out there 
[yeosang]: plus.. i don’t know any other places just yet..
[yeosang]:i’m rambling lol i'm sorry
[you]: nooooo you’re not! i’d love to join! i can meet you near the paddleboard rentals? i’ll bring some food!
[yeosang]: you don’t have to bring food!
[you]: i want to! i’ll be there in 30 mins.
[yeosang]: sounds good!
Yeosang smiles to himself as he goes through the fridge and kitchen to see if there’s anything he can bring. He does have an unopened soju bottle that he decides on bringing, in case you wanted to have a drink with him while eating good food. Plus, water. Can’t go wrong with water. And he’s glad he did because when he finally sees you near the paddleboard rentals, you’re hauling food on food on food.
“Why’d you bring so much food?” Yeo laughs as he watches you roll out the blanket for you two to sit on. You take the initiative to sit down and pat the space next to you. Yeosang gently places the food down in front of you before sticking the soju bottle into the sand to keep it standing upright.
“I just wanted to make sure we had enough!” You pop open the tupperwares of ramen and side dishes, handing Yeosang a small plate for him to use. “You brought soju! I love this one!”
“Does that give me brownie points?” You laugh.
“Yeah, it does. Mind if I open it?”
“Go for it.” You pop open the soju and pour some for both you and Yeosang in the paper cups you have. “Cheers!” You tap your cup against his before you both take the shots to the next, instantly feeling the warmth run down your throat and into your tummy. “What else did you do today?”
“Nothing besides walk down the opposite end of town.”
“Like actually?”
“I don’t really know where to go, so I was gonna wait for you to show me and tell me.” You playfully gasp.
“Finally using little ol me for more help?!”
“Unless you take it back, then fine whatever.. I’ll get around.” He pretends to act upset.
“Never.” You giggle and pour another shot. “Of course. First, we gotta tackle that hike. I’ll send you some places too over text so you can check them out when you have time.”
“You won’t come along?” You smile at him and hand his cup.
“I wish I could, but you know, work. The shelter. Helping around town.”
“Right..” Yeosang nods, silently tapping his cup against yours before taking the shot. The sun finally rests below the horizon and you and Yeosang are still talking about town and the little things here and there. You find that it’s really easy to talk to him, even if he doesn’t chime in much. He listens, and he can admit your voice is always nice to hear. The both of you indulge in the food in between sipping on the soju and discussing random things you both like and dislike.
At some point, there’s a pause in the conversation, and you’re just looking out at the sea, the night sky.
Yeosang is taking pictures of his surroundings and he turns his camera your way. He decides to ask for permission first before snapping a photo you don’t even wanna be in.
“I’m just taking pictures. Are you okay with that?” You laugh at how cutely awkward the question comes out of his mouth.
“No worries, I don’t mind. Should I pose or act natural? Candid?”
“Just do whatever feels natural.” He says, snapping a photo of you looking out at the view. “I promised my bestfriend I’d take photos even though I usually don’t.”
“Your bestfriend, hm?”
“Yeah. His name is Wooyoung, and he’s a level 10 pain in the ass. He’s definitely gonna ask to see them. If not, maybe my parents.”
“Cute. I agree with Wooyoung. Do it for the memories.” 
“Taking his side already and you haven’t even met him.”
“I just agree, okay.” You laugh before leaving a pause in the conversation again. “It’s nice that you seem close with your parents.” You blurt all of a sudden, making Yeosang turn to you as you continue to look out at the water.
“I mean, we’re okay. We aren’t perfect.” He adds. “Why do you say that? Are you not close to yours?” He realizes he’s never really heard you talk about your family like that, nor has he even tried to ask. To be honest, he just doesn’t want to be in your business and make you uncomfortable. But, you seemed to open up first tonight, so he’ll continue to go with it.
“No.” You let out a tiny, pathetic chuckle before shaking your head. “They keep trying to force their own plans and dreams on me. Trying to make me something I’m not.”
“I’m sorry. When was the last time you talked to them?”
“They still try to text or call from time to time but I don’t respond.”
“I’m assuming they don’t know you’re here.” Yeosang catches on quick. He won’t judge though, he gets it. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do to find some peace. Ain’t the easiest decisions, but worth it for that moment of clarity and calmness.
“No, they don’t. They keep trying to figure it out, but over time, they’ve kinda learned to just let me be. We had a really bad fight before I upped and left.”
“Does anyone know you’re here?”
“My cousin. He’s the closest thing I’ve had to a little brother.”
“That’s good, at least. He checks up on you?”
“He does.” You turn to Yeosang and give him a toothless smile.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what were your parents trying to force on you?”
“I come from a strong, scientific and medical family. If they’re not doctors or nurses, they’re working in research with advanced degrees.”
“Oof.” Yeosang audibly says and you giggle. “Your mom and dad?”
“My dad is a neurosurgeon and my mom is a nurse.”
“Okay, well. I see they’d have big fucking expectations.”
“You think?” You laugh.
“And you wanna work with animals, right?” 
“I do. I’ve always wanted take care of animals. Be around them. Maybe work in a vet. Aquarium? Sanctuary? Idk what or where exactly.”
“Makes sense.” He nods, realizing why you’re so passionate about the shelter and the work you do there. “I mean, that’s kinda close, no? Animals are technically considered science or.. related.” Yeosang shrugs.
“Mm, they don’t look at it that way, though. I either have to be a nurse or doctor. Or a professor, or researcher, with a PhD in hand. Or else I got a kiddy job.” You chuckle. “Oh well. Maybe one day they’ll accept that I’m just different from them.”
“They will. I know it’s not really my place to say this but I’m sure they’re realizing and they miss you.”
“Yeah.” Is all you say. “Can I ask you something a little more personal?”
“Uh, sure. I don’t do nudes, though.” You playfully punch him on the bicep.
“No, you idiot.” You laugh. “Are you dating someone? Or well, I guess you would’ve come here with them if you were, right? I dunno. Maybe you needed space from them, too.” You shake off the thoughts to let him answer. Cute, he thinks. 
“No, I’m not.” 
“Interesting.”
“Okay, now why do you say that?”
“I don’t know, you’re good looking as hell?” He laughs.
“Thanks.” You can see him shying away from the compliment, smiling down at the sand and biting his lip from letting it grow too big. “I haven’t dated since college. My ex and I broke up after graduation because we were just busy and living two different lives. No bad blood, though.” You nod.
“You haven’t had any flings or like, hookups? One night stands?”
“No. Well.” He pauses. “I take that back. I have, but they never lasted for long. I— uh, I have a hard time doing that cause I’m someone who likes to be emotionally invested, too. I don’t know how people do it without letting emotions get involved.”
“That’s valid. I won’t argue with that.” You sip on your water. “What about at work?”
“What do you mean at work?”
“You haven’t dated anyone from work?”
“God, no. Do you know how messy that sounds?” You snort.
“My bad. You’re right.”
“I think.. one of my good friends has feelings for me, though.” 
“So, why not go for it?” He looks at you for a second while he thinks about his response, then turns to the sky.
“Honestly, I just don’t see her that way. I tried to see where it’d go, don’t get me wrong. But, we’re good as friends. I don’t wanna ruin that and I especially don’t wanna hurt her.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Am I? I feel terrible because I feel like I’m already hurting her.”
“How so? It’s not like you two decided on anything, right?” He shakes his head.
“No. She doesn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable or force anything. But since it’s not something we’ve talked about, I almost feel like she thinks that window will always be open. Like she’ll have a chance eventually. I just can’t see her like that, though. Really.” He lets out a breath. “Sorry, I probably sound like a broken record?”
“Stop apologizing, Yeosang. You don’t. I like hearing you talk.” You smile. “If it makes you feel better, you’re not an asshole and you’re not hurting her. You won’t. Most guys won’t even take the time to think about things like this. The time will come when you two have to address it, and I know you’ll be honest about it. It’ll probably sting for her, but I’m sure she’ll be grateful and it’ll be more than what she can ask for. Instead of you leading her on and actually making her think she has a chance, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Cut yourself some slack.” You nudge him a bit.
“What about you?”
“Relationships?” He nods. “Uh, well. My ex and I broke up and it was pretty nasty. Other than that, I’ve had the unserious, young love high school relationship.”
“When did you guys break up?”
“Mm. Let’s just say it wasn’t too, too long ago.” You look down at your hands. “Yeah, it was not pretty.” He can tell you’re not willing to open up about this part of your life, and that’s okay. Maybe one day, before he leaves, you’ll confide in him about it. He can only hope you are okay. You wanna say that it was just right after graduation, though. You wanna tell Yeosang that not only did you feel like you were losing your parents, but your relationship, too. You wanna tell him he was a fucking cheater and treated you like shit, too. You ran here because of him and your family. You ran because it was the easiest thing to do to get away from the pain and hurt, the betrayal. But, you keep silent. Yeosang is becoming someone you enjoy. You like his company and you don’t wanna scare him off with your silly problems, and your trust and self-esteem issues. 
“Does it still bother you?” You shake your head.
“Not at all.” You lie. Because yes, it does. It still hurts, and you still don’t understand what you did wrong. The only thing that’s different now is that you’ve managed to put a cap on it and continue on with your life hoping one day, someone will see your worth.
“Good. Whatever happened, hope you know it wasn’t your fault and your ex was a piece of shit.” You laugh loudly and push him teasingly.
“How would you even know it was his fault, hm? What if it was me?!”
“I don’t know if it’s his fault but he still played a part in it, so I stand by what I said.” You giggle.
“You’re funny.”
“Glad you at least think so.” He smiles at you, and lets his eyes linger for a little longer than usual. The moonlight is hitting you perfectly at all angles and Yeosang can’t help but think about how fucking pretty you are. So much for going solo on this trip. He might just be tipsy, but he’s actually looking forward to spending more time with you. A fresh face to get to know and hang out with. Someone equally intriguing and personable. Yeosang knows you’ll be a problem for him and he doesn’t care to look at the consequences right at this moment.
“What?” You look at him and he snorts.
“Nothing.”
“What? Do I have something on my face?!” He laughs.
“No, no. It’s not that.”
“Then, what?! You’re making me shy.” He shakes his head.
“You’re pretty.” He clears his throat. “I mean, t-the moonlight. It looks pretty on you.”
“Well, thanks.” You giggle. “The moonlight looks pretty on you, too.” You lick your lips. “So, the hike this weekend. Wanna meet up at my apartment around 6am?”
“6am?!” Yeosang’s tone raises. “Jesus Christ. Why so early?”
“Unless you wanna hike underneath the afternoon sun and die?!”
“Okay, point taken.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“6am it is, then.”
“Jeez, contain your excitement or something.” You tease, continuing to eat at your plate. “Hey. What’s your last name?”
“Kang. Kang Yeosang.”
“That’s a nice name.”
“And yours?”
“Y/L/N.”
“Pretty.” He mutters. You’re having to break contact first, beginning to clean up the mess around you to distract yourself from Yeosang.
“Anyway, all good?” You finish your food and point at the nearly empty containers of food still sitting around.
“Mhm. Thank you. Can I repay you for the food?”
“No, I offered, silly. It didn’t take me long to make.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Let me get this cleaned up. I wanna head out to the water before we go.” Yeosang quietly helps you clean up and pack the tupperwares into the bag before rolling up your blanket. You set it aside before stepping closer to the water, Yeosang trailing behind as he watches you crouch down and pick at the sand. 
“What’re you doing, Y/N?” He asks with a small chuckle.
“There’s a crab. He’s trying to get into his new shell.” He watches as you help the hermit crab inhabit a new shell and he thinks it’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen in such a long time. “All good!” You watch as the hermit crab waddles away in its new home before picking up another shell nearby. “Isn’t it pretty?” You show him.
“It is.”
“Thanks for inviting me to hang out.” You walk back to towards your stuff, Yeosang walking alongside of you as you head towards your apartment. “You do know you don’t have to walk me, right?”
“Y/N, I told you it was fine. If you didn’t want me around, you could’ve just said so.” You snort.
“Dramatic.”
“Ouch.” He laughs.
“Here.” You hand him the shell. “Your first souvenir, chosen by yours truly.”
“Thank you.” He takes the shell and sticks it in his pocket. “I’ll make sure to take good care of it.” 
“Good. I trust you.” 
“Working tomorrow, I assume?” You nod.
“You should paddleboard tomorrow. Keeho’s off, he’ll probably be out there.”
“Yeah, might check it out.” The rest of the walk home falls into a comfortable silence, but you don’t mind it one bit. Yeosang does his usual of giving you space when you arrive at the lobby door, fishing for your keys before you say your usual goodnights. He waits until you walk down the hall to your apartment, feeling good enough to walk away and head back to his for the night; already looking forward to spending more time with you on the weekend.
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Yeosang meets you at the front of your building at 6am on the dot and he has cups of iced coffee in hand. You thank him as you grab a cup and call for a taxi to bring you to the outskirts of town, you and Yeosang already engaging in a lively conversation for 6am in the morning.
The hike surprisingly isn’t bad. Yeosang keeps close to you, hyping you up when you get tired of climbing those damn hills and needing to take a quick break. In between taking in the scenery, you both snap photos on your phone or your polaroid camera— showing Yeosang the pictures as soon as they develop. You ask him to take a picture with you that turns out cute; the both of you making silly poses before Yeosang takes the camera and shoots solo shots of you. The hike is fun; it’s full of easy conversation, lots of laughs and good vibes with Yeosang. It almost feels like you’ve known Yeosang for years with how quick you two clicked. Might’ve taken a little warming up for Yeo, but he swears there isn’t anyone who has ever pulled him out of his shell this fast [and naturally], too. The hike takes close to 3 hours with all the pauses and stops in between, and by the time you get back down to the starting point, it’s still pretty early in the day. The taxi drops you off at the front if your building and Yeosang lingers behind while you fish for your keys per usual.
“Uh, I’m gross and sweaty. How about I shower, grab some food and come back?” Yeosang asks shyly, hand scratching at the nape of his neck.
“Okay then.” You show him the code box near the lobby door. “You can press Apt #2 and I’ll be able to buzz you in. My apartment is just down that hall.”
“I’ll be back.”
“Hurry up. I hate being alone.” You tease and he blushes before licking his lips and nodding.
“I won’t take long.” You smile before walking in and parting ways with Yeosang. When you get inside your studio, you toss your things aside and step into a piping hot shower to ease your muscles. You take a good, long 30-minute shower, using your favorite coconut scrub and massaging it onto your skin before you wrap up and step out. You lotion up using the same brand as your scrub, throwing on a crewneck and shorts. You tidy up around the house, fluffing up the pillows and folding the extra blankets neatly onto the couch. By the time Yeosang is asking to be buzzed in, it’s about an hour and a half since he initially left you. 
“Hey.” He says, stepping into your studio and immediately kicking off his shoes. His eyes roam around your space, slowly walking into the kitchen to set down the bags in his hands. “Cute. The space is very.. you.”
“Why, thank you.” You do a curt bow before helping him unpack the bags. “What’d you get?”
“Bibimbap. And other snacks.” You fish out some ice cream from the side of the bag and laugh.
“Even ice cream?”
“You like melona bars, right? Please tell me you do.”
“I do. I actually really like this one.” You hold up the honeydew Melona box.
“Yessss.” He says. “More brownie points for Kang Yeosang.” You laugh, helping him carry the food to the table in the living room. You pour some water for the both of you, setting it near your bowls before getting comfortable next to him. You flip through your TV, settling for Warm Bodies that is randomly playing on one of the channels. Yeosang starts to talk about his own zombie apocalypse scenario, laying down his plans and what he’d do to survive.
“You know that game, right? The Last of Us? Like that. I probably would wanna keep it moving instead of staying stationary in one spot.”
“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and laugh.
“What? Don’t you think about these things?”
“No!”
“You should. What’re you gonna do if you wake up tomorrow morning and the zombies have taken over?”
“I’ll stick with you.”
“What if I don’t want you with me?” You playfully punch him on the bicep and he lets out a small ‘ah’ at the contact.
“You punk, you’re so mean. I’d be useful and you’d be missing out!”
“Okay, so tell me how.”
“I just will be! I know a thing or two about boxing and muay thai! And-and, I can cook. I can make us some good shelter. I can clean weapons.”
“You’ve done boxing and muay thai?” You nod. 
“Back when I was at home, yeah.”
“Hot.”
“You’re an idiot.” You laugh. “So you want me on your team now?!”
“Yeah, just to see your boxing and muay thai moves.”
“Well, I’m not so sure I wanna be on your team anymore.”
“Fine.” Yeosang says, setting his empty plate aside. “Suit yourself.” You giggle as you run into the freezer and grab some of the ice cream for you and Yeo to chomp on.
“Hey.”
“Mm?” You turn to him with your melona bar in hand.
“Do your friends have nicknames for you?”
“They just call me Yeo.”
“Hm.” You hum. “Can I call you Sangie?”
“Sangie?” He looks at you with a slightly disgusted expression.
“Please? I don’t wanna just call you Yeo.” He looks at you and you catch the way his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His expression softens and he lets out a small sigh before shaking his head in disbelief.
“Fine.” You squeal. “Don’t overdo it though, please. For the love of God.”
“I won’t, Sangie.” You tease and he squints at you.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You try to playfully hit him but he catches your hand in his, not letting go until you use all your power to release it from his death hold. He laughs as you pout and whine, Yeosang pinching your cheeks as a way to test the waters of being more affectionate and closer to you.
Once you finish eating your ice cream, Yeosang helps you clean up before pushing the table aside so that you two can lay comfortably in the living room floor. You find yourself getting sleepy from the hike and all the food Yeosang brought over, that you curl up into your blanket beside him while he continues to watch. He looks down and chuckles to himself, hearing soft snores coming from beneath the blanket. Sooner or later, Yeosang finds his eyes getting heavier, sinking into his position more as he gets sleepier. Yeosang follows suit and ends up falling asleep, laying flat on his back next to you with his hand lazily on his stomach. Over time, you unknowingly get wrapped up in each other’s arms. At one moment, you’re tucked underneath Yeosang’s chin. The next, your back is pressed against him while he has an arm over you. But even when you stir in your sleep and pop your eyes open for a quick second, none of it feels weird to you. You like being close to him.
Unknowingly watching new paths unfold right in front of you. Shit is crazy.
Your phone rings and you’re popping your head up to see who could possibly be calling and waking you up from your nap. Though you move to quickly grab the phone and peek at the caller ID, Yeo doesn’t do much to move away or give you space. Instead, he continues to keep an arm around you. He kinda likes that you haven’t rejected his little acts of affection and that you’ve been reciprocating in one way or another. It makes him feel more comfortable around you, and it makes him feel like he’s not the only one feeling the way that he feels. Hopefully, you see it too.
“Hold on, sorry.” You grab your phone and answer the call, sitting up as Yeosang continues to quietly lay next to you; arm loosely hanging over your legs. “Hey.”
“Yo.” Your cousin, Jeongin, greets you on the other line. “Sorry, I meant to call you earlier but I got busy.”
“All good.” You chuckle. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Guess what?”
“Hm?” You hum, your finger tracing the veins on Yeosang’s arm.
“I got an internship at one of the companies I applied for!” You squeal.
“Oh my god, congrats! I knew you would! When do you start?”
“Probably beginning of next month? I need to get through all of my paperwork and health clearances first. It’s gonna take awhile, but by next month for sure.”
“Yay! That’s awesome, Innie! I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks. I’m proud of me, too.” You snort.
“Okay, champ.”
“Hey, how’s everything down there, by the way?”
“Good.” You pause and Jeongin laughs. 
“Just good? What have you been up to?”
“Working, hanging out.”
“Uh huh.” He laughs. “You were supposed to tell me more about that visitor that came to town?” You look at Yeosang who is now looking up at you with curious eyes.
“Um, I’ll have to tell you another time.”
“Why? Is he with you right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Just.. you two?”
“Mhm.” Yeosang can obviously tell the topic has turned to him, and he can’t help but chuckle a bit at how shy and quiet you’re trying to be. Even though he's literally laying next to you with his arm sprawled across your lap.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” He smiles through the phone. “He better be good to you or else I’ll fight him.”
“Please, I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“Right.” Jeongin smiles. Your cousin was always going to protect you and be there for you, especially after all the shit you’ve been through. All the hurt you’ve experienced. He couldn’t help but feel overprotective over you, and he couldn’t help but worry about you. And yeah, if this ever turned to anything, it would take awhile for Jeongin to trust them. He’s seen people fuck you over time and time again that he no longer just sit back and be too relaxed about people who come into your life. He’s seen you cry way more times than he’d like to count.
“By the way.” He clears his throat. “Your mom said hi. She said she misses you but hopes you’re well.” You swallow the lump in your throat, licking your lips when your mouth suddenly feels dry. Yeosang catches onto the mood switch— watching as your smile drops, your hand now retracting from his arm and curling up against your lap.
“Oh. Uh, tell her I said hi, too.” Jeongin sighs.
“Your parents really miss you, you know?”
“Well.” Is all you can say.
“At least call or text your mom? She worries about you every day.”
“Then maybe she should have backed me up when dad was saying all those things about me. Like oh, you know, how worthless I am.” 
“They should’ve known better, and they shouldn’t have done that. You don’t have to forgive them for it, but give her some peace of mind. She’s still your mom.”
“Oh, Innie. Can never get anything past you.”
“I’m just saying.” He chuckles. “Please? Just text her soon. Doesn’t have to be long.”
“We’ll see.”
“Anyway, I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to check in and tell you the good news. Hope you and your new man are having a good evening together.”
“He—I—” You pause and let out a breath. “That’s not exactly it but okay, yes we are.” Jeongin laughs louder.
“Alright. I’ll talk to you later? Text or call me if anything.”
“I know. You too.”
“Love you!” He says in a sing-song tone.
“Love you, too.” And with that, the call ends. You always hate getting off the phone with your cousin because it makes you miss home more than you’d like to admit. You would go home just to spend time with him like you used to, but the memories, the thoughts of your parents, all seem to be overbearing and make you regret even having the thought in the first place. You do miss him, a lot though. Since graduating, he had been busy trying to get into the workforce just like your family had pressured him into doing; applying for internships left and right to gain some experience before applying to graduate school. So, he hadn’t been able to visit like he planned to. Maybe one day you’ll be able to look past it and come home.
“Sorry.” You look at Yeosang, who is now stretching and sitting up next to you. “My cousin.”
“All good.” He grabs his water from the table and sits back down next to you. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah. I think so.”
“Your parents?” Is all Yeo says, hoping he isn’t poking too far into details and making you uncomfortable.
“Oh yeah.” You pathetically chuckle. “We’ve gotten into a lot of arguments before I left, that’s all. He was telling me my mom missed me and that I should at least try to text her that I’m doing okay.”
“I know it’s not easy but.. you should.” He says softly while turning his attention back to you. You maintain eye contact, catching his eyes quickly shoot down to your lips then back up to your eyes again. It makes you feel butterflies when he looks at you the way that he does, and it makes you wanna crawl back into your shell and hide. You look down and fiddle with your fingers, hoping it could distract you somehow.
“I dunno. I think I’m still having trouble letting go of what happened between us.”
“Mm.” He hums. “Do you miss them, though?”
“Mm, yeah.” You respond, close to a whisper. “It’ll always suck that our relationship isn’t what it used to be.”
“Whenever you’re ready, you should. Take your time with it, though.”
“Thanks.” You look up and give him a small smile. You quickly check the time, noticing dinner is approaching. “If you wanna stay for a little longer, I can whip up some dinner?”
“Sure.” He chuckles. “Can’t turn down a home cooked meal.”
“Of course.” You laugh, getting up from your seat.
“I mean, it’s a bonus that you’re cooking it.”
“Kang Yeosang, please. No need to save yourself.” You go through the stuff in the fridge, figuring out what to whip for dinner. “Are you a picky eater?”
“Nope.” He rests his head back against the edge of the couch.
“Good. You can change the channel, by the way.” You giggle, grabbing the ingredients from the fridge and setting up the pot on the stove. Yeosang flips the channel to the baseball game that’s happening in the city tonight, cheering along whenever they hit a home run. You laugh from the kitchen, asking him what sports he likes to indulge in and if him and his father went to games often. He replies that they have, and that baseball and soccer are more of their thing than anything else. It’s cute, really. Super endearing. It kinda reminds you of the times when you were younger and your dad would bring you to baseball games. It feels like such a distant and far memory. Like it never even happened, almost. That’s how much things have changed over the years. Your relationship with your dad hasn’t felt the same.
Once you’ve finished whipping up the tteokmanduguk, you bring the pot over to the coffee table, along with two small bowls and utensils. Yeosang grabs more water for you two and some beer for himself before settling next to you and indulging in another movie for the night. You tell him that you and your friends are gonna have a movie night soon, and that he should join along. There’s also a party that Jungkook is planning to host at one of the nearby bars. Yeosang agrees simply by telling you he’s down to go wherever you are since, after all, you are his self-proclaimed tour guide. You laugh it off even though deep down, it makes you feel giddy and happy he’d come along.
When dinner comes to an end, Yeosang does a lot to help you clean up around the living room and in the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes while stacking them onto the dish rack, cleaning around your stove and coffee table to make sure it’s in pristine condition. It’s about that time that he calls it a night, but he truly is hating to do so. Because when he leaves, you feel sad. And he does, too. He’s starting to hate the feeling of going separate ways and he’s not even sure how you were able to make him feel that way so quickly. You walk him to the door and thank him again for his company before Yeosang does the same and tells you how much he really enjoyed spending time with you today. You tippytoe to give him a quick kiss to the cheek, and Yeosang instantly smiles. It gives you butterflies how he responds, but you leave it at that— not too overwhelm him or do too much.
But at the end of his first full week in town, Yeosang finds himself utterly smitten with you, drowning in pure adoration for someone he met on a whim. The hike was what did it for him, watching as you were so carefree and comfortable around him— that being the exact thing that pulled him out of his shell entirely. He hadn’t genuinely enjoyed himself this much in awhile, laughing during most of the hike and feeling excited about exploring town with you. You even understand his humor and Yeosang thinks it’s so, so nice to be comfortable in his own skin and personality around you.
If he had to lay out what his ideal type was, it’d literally be you. Because you check off all the boxes, and it’s so fucking surreal that Yeosang is looking at you right in the face, seeing you in the flesh. It’s so unexpected, but it’s the best thing he’s come across in a long time. Unexpected and quick, but the best.
“Goodnight.” You smile and lean your head against the door frame. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” You take a few tiny steps back.
“Mhm.” It seems like Yeosang had other plans because he gently grabs you by the wrist and tugs you back; immediately cupping your cheeks and bringing his lips to yours. He holds the kiss there, thumb subtly caressing at your right cheek, before he slightly pulls away and looks at you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
This is the moment that changed everything for him and he didn’t even realize it at the time. 
And he means everything.
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From that moment, your days consisted of spending time with Yeosang in one form or another. Whether it be after your shift at the restaurant, waiting after you were done at the shelter to go shop at the tiny outdoor mall nearby, hanging out at the beach with your friends or being together at each other’s places— Yeosang was there. He’s even become acquainted with more people around town with your help, accompanying a few of the elderly neighbors to their appointments nearby, helping carry loads and loads of heavy packages into restaurants or buckets of fish into the fish market, playing around with the kids running around. Yeosang was there.
If you had come to town and met him, you would’ve never known he was a visitor himself. You loved that he blended in well, though. You loved that he seemed to be happier and more comfortable, and you hope this is everything he had wished for in a peaceful, relaxing vacation. When the month comes to an end, you’re honestly not sure what you’ll do or how you’ll feel. Yeosang has become a part of your days, the town, so easily in such a short amount of time that you already feel empty just thinking about it. But, those are problems for future Y/N. Present Y/N isn’t gonna trip about it right now. Instead, focus on the now. Having him here, seeing him in the flesh and being able to keep him near. 
“So, are we picking up your man?” Mingi hops in the driver’s seat, with Keeho in the passenger's seat. You and your other friend Mina sit in the back, with Mina nudging you in the arm. Jungkook had a few things to close out at the shop, telling the group he’d meet at Mingi and Keeho’s shared place in a few.
“I can’t wait to see him!” She squeals. Mina was another one of your good friends from town, but she too had been away and just got back home. You, Keeho, Mingi and Jungkook kept her up to date as possible, with Mina the most excited to meet Yeosang and see who had been occupying your time these days. 
“Yes, please. He’s ready.” You tell Mingi the address. 
“She’s not even denying the phrase anymore. Must really be her man now.” Keeho adds, making Mina smack him on the neck from behind.
“Mind your business, she’s happy!”
“I never even said it was wrong?! I’m glad you’re happy Y/N, seriously. Shit, Mina.” He turns to her and rolls his eyes.
“You two look like you’ve known each other for years. It is pretty cute.” Mingi adds as he continues to keep his eyes on the road. Over this time, you and Yeosang had gotten quite affectionate with each other. A lot of it behind doors, but still pretty obvious around other people. It was the hand on the small of your back or hips. Hands grazing or pinkies holding onto each other. Whispers in each other’s ears. The flirty smiles and blushing. Yeosang’s arm over your shoulder. The playful hugs. Behind doors, there were a lot of little kisses on the cheek. The lips. Just enough to want more of each other but still afraid to cross those lines and ask for too much. But god, did Yeosang find it hard to keep his composure around you. He wanted you.
When you arrive at the front of Yeosang’s studio, he’s just stepped out of his door. He’s comfortably in matching sweats and a hoodie, a small smile painted on his face when he sees your head hanging out the window. “Hey!” You smile at him and Yeosang almost buckles at the fucking knees.
“Get your big ass head back in the car, Y/N. My neck is cold!” Keeho laughs.
“Fuck you!” 
“Let me put up the window!” Keeho whines.
“Sup.” He says, giving Keeho a dap before waving at Mingi as he approaches the car.
“Oh my god, he’s so fucking handsome.” Mina says behind you, tugging on your shirt. “What the fuck! Where can I find one!”
“Sh!” You shush her while laughing and settling back in your seat. Yeosang slips in next to you and immediately looks at you with a soft expression.
“Hey.” He says before shifting his attention to Mina, who is currently leaning over you to get a better look at him.
“Hi! I’m Mina! We haven’t met yet cause I just got back from vacation.” She holds out her hand and shakes his hand firmly before giggling. 
“Nice to meet you. I’m Yeosang.”
“What a catch.” Mina says in your ear, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks.
“Did you eat? Cause these assholes don’t know how to cook.” You look at him and he chuckles.
“Yeah, I did.”
“We have chips and shit! Plus, Kook said he’s gonna bring some chicken or whatever.”
“How was work and the shelter today?” 
“Good, kinda busy. Ro got adopted!”
“That’s great! What else happened?”
“Nothing. The usual.” You shrug and Yeosang nods, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “What’d you do today?”
“Uh, go to the gym. Checked out those places you sent me the other day.” 
“Oh nice! Did you eat at Mom’s Kitchen?” He nods.
“It’s so good.”
“Isn’t it?!” Mina catches sight of Yeosang’s hand on your thigh and she begins to subtly nudge your arm, in which you nudge back. The ride is somewhat quiet, with the occasional bickering in between you, Mingi, Keeho and Mina. Yeosang laughs next to you, thoroughly enjoying the chemistry between your friends as it reminds him of his own. He does miss his friends, but it’s nice to be around fresh faces. New energy.
“So, what are we putting on first?” Mingi sets the grocery bags down on their kitchen counter, taking the chips and candy out for everyone to help themselves to.
“Girl in the Picture!” Mingi groans when he hears your response and Keeho’s immediate agreement.
“Oh my fucking god, can you please? Let’s watch something else!” Mingi scolds you. “All Y/N and Keeho do is watch true crime shit and talk about it for days on end.” He turns to Yeosang with the complaint, but all Yeosang can do is smile and laugh it off.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tall and Bland? Sometimes, it’s good to be educated and aware, especially in today’s world.” Keeho shakes his head. “Anyway, back to putting this shit on.” You snort, watching as Keeho puts on Girl in the Picture. At this point, Jungkook walks in and kicks off his shoes, setting a large tray of chicken wings onto the table, along with its included side dishes.
“Here. Eat up.”
“Oh shit.” Mingi says, immediately piling a good amount of chicken onto his paper plate.
“Don’t be stingy!” Jungkook calls to Yeosang. “Yeo, come and get something to eat before these two big-backs take it all.”
“I know you aren’t talking about me cause I’m sitting right here.” Keeho chimes in while scrolling through his phone.
“You don’t wanna eat more?” Yeo shakes his head.
“I’m good, thank you though!” He directs his thank you’s to the boys for providing food. You and Mina grab some chips and candy before you settle back onto your seats— Mina on the floor near the loveseat, Mingi sprawled on the couch, Keeho near one end of the couch on the floor, and you and Yeosang on the opposite end on the floor.
“You guys don’t ever get creeped out by this shit?” Jungkook plops onto the loveseat, letting his left leg dangle off the arm of the couch while he sits in a weird position.
“I do, but it’s also interesting to learn about these cases. Truthfully, I wouldn’t know these even happened without the content we get on them.”
“Okay, I can get with that.” Jungkook adds, still chomping on his m&ms. You snuggle against Yeosang while you two sit closely, his arm draped around your shoulders while he props a leg up. 
“Didn’t know you were into true crime like that.” Yeosang chuckles.
“It’s just interesting.” You look at him with a brow raised. “Are you making fun of me?”
“What, no?” He smiles. “Just mentally adding it my list of all the things you like.”
“You’re keeping track?”
“If I say no?” He teases, making you gently pinch him on the side before returning your attention to the documentary. 
“Mean.”
“Well, for the record. I am.” He says lowly by your ear before pressing a light kiss to the side of your head, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks and a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. You giggle overhearing Jungkook complain about the many layers this case already has in the first half, while Keeho is having to pause the documentary a few times to explain what’s actually going on. You chime in to back him up, only pressing play when the others have finally gotten on the same page. Yeosang chuckles to himself seeing the chaotic bickering occur again, all while enjoying having you snuggled underneath his arm. When the documentary comes to a close, Mingi suggests putting on Skinamarink as the next movie. 
“Listen, it’s a different horror film! It’s experimental. Two kids wake up and their dad is legit missing outta nowhere. You never see the characters fully in frame, but it’s obvious something is wrong. You just hear things. Like them whispering or the cartoons playing. The trailer was so fucking creepy.”
“Ou, okay. Mangi finally has a good recommendation, I fuck with it.” Keeho pulls up the movie and presses play.
“I’m scared!” Mina squeals and puts her hands over her eyes, making Jungkook playfully tear them away.
“Nah, if we’re watching this, you are too.”
“Then move! Let me sit on the seat and you sit on the floor closer to the TV!” Jungkook laughs and stands to switch with her, plopping onto the floor as the movie kicks off.
“Oh hell no.” You mutter to yourself when the movie starts, immediately terrified from the creepy vibe of the movie. Yeo feels you snuggle up to him even more and he hugs you a little tighter, his arm now completely wrapped around your shoulders.
“This is actually kinda good.” 
“It’s so creepy.” 
“Yeah, it is. That’s what makes it a good horror movie.” He looks down at you. “Scared?”
“Kinda.” You’ve fallen to a whisper with how eerily silent the movie is despite the children talking and the creepy cartoons filling the background noise. Mingi, Jungkook and Keeho take turns yelling out of their asses, scared of what’s to come from the movie.
“How are you scared of this but not true crime, pretty girl?” Yeosang teases, gently pinching at your cheek.
“That’s different.”
“How?” He chuckles.
“I can’t explain it.” You pout, suddenly jumping in his arms when new activities happen in the movie.
“You’re okay.” He laughs, but you continue to pout. “Stop pouting. You’re making it really hard not to kiss you.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“No one said you couldn’t kiss me.” You tease. “It’s not like you haven’t.”
“Shut up.” He leans in to peck you on the lips, fingers gently caressing your chin. You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder as you continue to watch the movie. The both of you chime in with theories as things progress in the movie, with you using Yeosang’s hand to cover your eyes every now and then. He laughs, trying to rip his hand away to force you to watch. But, he stops; letting you cover your eyes when you and Mina start genuinely whining about how spooked you’re feeling from the movie.
“Oh shit.” Jungkook laughs as the boys continue to watch. “This is fucked up. The movie is all about making you feel all weird and unsettled but nothing really happens. It just thrives on that energy. The fear of the unknown.”
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda fucking scared.” Keeho snorts.
“It reminds me of when I was a kid.” Mingi adds. “You guys remember waking up in the middle of the night and being scared to turn around cause it feels like something is there?”
“Yeah.” Yeosang chimes in. “Then you start spiraling into your own thoughts cause you don’t know if something is there or not, and then you start feeling more anxious and scared.”
“Yeah, exactly!”
“I hated that.”
“That’s why I never put my feet out from under the blanket.” Jungkook says, making everyone laugh.
“Oh shit!” They all collectively say when one of the rare jumpscares comes up. You feel Yeosang get startled next to you, causing you to giggle and poke fun at him.
“At least I’m watching!”
“You’re right, sorry.” You say sarcastically, giving him a tiny peck on the jaw. Just as you’re about to pull back and rest your head on his shoulder, he quickly dips in for another kiss on the lips. You scrunch your nose in response and he just about dies at how cute it is, pulling you closer towards him [if there were any possible way to be closer]. Towards the end of the movie, everyone finishes strong despite how spooked they feel. There were a bunch of ‘oh ew’s’ and ‘oh fuck no’s’ from the group while watching the ending scene, with Yeosang even making a face at how terrifying the ending is. 
“Okay, that was a good one.” Jungkook turns to Mingi. “How’d you find out about it?”
“Research.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Keeho glares at him. “What Youtube video were you watching when the ad popped up?” You all laugh.
“Let him have this one, Keeho. Damn.” You add.
“Real.” Jungkook stands and stretches. “Anyway, successful movie night I’d say. Are you guys gonna go to the bar next week? For the party?” He turns to you and Yeosang. “Yeo?”
“Yeah, for sure.” He nods, making Jungkook smile.
“Sick. It’ll be fun.” He grabs his keys and swings it around his finger. “I’m about to dip. Tired as fuck now. You three wanna ride with me so I can take you home?”
“Yeah, I’m fucking scared, though.” Mina laughs.
“Just turn on your lofi playlist.” Mingi says. “That can fix anything.”
“Sleep Soul by Jhene Aiko will fix anything, that’s for damn sure.” 
“I’m about to sleep with my night light on.” Keeho laughs. “Man, fuck you. It was a good recommendation but now I’m scared.”
“It was good, huh?” Mingi asks cockily. “I’ll cover for next movie night.”
“No, hell no. Need a good break.” You stand and stretch, giving Keeho and Mingi a hug after thanking them for hosting movie night. Yeosang follows suit, bidding the two farewells before slipping into his shoes and following you three out of the door.
“I’m about to leave all the lights on at my place, I don’t care. I can handle a few nights of the bill being high.”
“Same.”
“You have Yeosang, though!”
“He doesn’t stay with me!” You fire back with a laugh, even though it does kinda suck that you’re still having to say goodbye to Yeosang at the end of the day. This was progressing into who knows what— you had no idea what you two were at this point. All you know is that you have deep feelings for this man, and you hope he does, too. It’s kinda silly to be falling this deep, but you click with him. It’s a connection you can’t put into words. And that is terrifying.
Jungkook drives Mina to her place before dropping you off, leaving him alone with Yeosang as the last stop. Jungkook asks a few times if you’re both sure that you don’t need to stay at one place or the other, shrugging it off when you both shyly agree that you’ll part ways for the night.
Yeosang wishes he didn’t, because the night he does sleepover brings him to new territories with you and he wished he had explored it sooner.
You had been working at the restaurant for a full shift, and Yeosang had been out on the water with Mingi and a few other people from town. When he finally gets a text from you that you’ve finished your shift and closed up for the night with Jungkook, he’s back at home all freshly showered and patiently waiting for you. He feels his heart skip a beat, and he immediately throws on a windbreaker over his black tank top before dashing through the door with a simple—
[yeosang]: see you soon 😊
[you]: yay!
He chuckles to himself as he begins a light jog over to your place, knowing you’re probably taking your time heading home from work or stopping by to check on a few people. He doesn’t mind, though. He’ll gladly wait for you for as long as you need him to, especially if that means seeing you and spending time with you. 
So, he does just that until he finally catches wind of you approaching the apartment [faster than expected]. Yeosang silently leans back against the wall, watching as you skip towards the house and even do a little twirl. He lets out a soft chuckle to himself at how oblivious you are to his presence, even picking up the phone to call him. He purposely doesn’t pick up to see how long it’ll take you to notice, watching as you pause in your steps and glare at your phone when he doesn’t pick up the call.
“Why isn’t he answering me?” You pout as you tuck your phone away and dig for your keys. “Kang Yeosang. You better have a good excuse—”
“Like.. what? Sorry, I was faster than you and have been waiting?” Your attention shoots up to Yeosang still patiently waiting by the lobby door to the complex, your eyes lighting up as you let out a squeal and instantly throw your arms around him.
“I missed you.” You cutely mumble against him, his hand rubbing up and down your back as he holds you close.
“I missed you too, cutie.” He presses a kiss against the side of your head. “How was your shift?”
“It was okay, pretty busy.”
“Yeah? Least you get to relax now.” 
“Thank god.” You laugh, fiddling with your keys to unlock your door while Yeosang wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind. 
“I’ve been waiting all day.” He says softly against your head.
“I’m here now.”
“What do you wanna do tonight?” You shrug.
“I dunno. Anything! I just need to shower first because I feel kinda gross.” You laugh as you both step out of your shoes and drop your things off to the side, on the kitchen table.
“Cute regardless.” Yeosang smiles and you shake your head.
“Lies, all lies.”
“I would never lie to you.” He gently caresses your chin. “How about I cook something while you go shower and get comfortable?” You gasp.
“Yeosang cooking again?”
“I can whip up a good meal or two when I want, okay.” He rolls his eyes before squeezing your side. “Go.”
“Demanding.” You tease before grabbing your pajamas and heading off to the shower. Yeosang stands in your kitchen area for a good minute, hands placed on his hips as he contemplates on what he can cook. He rummages through your mini pantry and fridge, digging up some of your prepped cucumbers, radishes, boiled eggs and broth to make some naengmyeon. It’s a dish he’s able to whip up quickly, carrying your bowl and his to the living room coffee table. You finish your shower about 10 minutes later, and Yeosang is quietly sitting on the couch flipping through the channels. You run a towel through your damp hair, smiling at the two bowls ready made for you two.
“Aw.” You giggle. “Thank you.” You sit next to him and give him a soft, feathery kiss to the cheek. He turns to catch your lips in another kiss, making you scrunch your nose in response.
“You’re very welcome.” The two of you find a movie to settle on before indulging in your meal. Afterwards, you tidy up and grab some of the ice cream still sitting in your freezer from last time— handing Yeosang a melona bar as you plop back down next to him. He’s cozy, and you snuggle up close to feel more of his warmth. “Fuck, I don’t wanna move.” Yeosang sighs, leaning his head back onto the couch after he’s finished his ice cream. It’s nearing midnight and he truly hates the thought of leaving you at this point.
“You don’t have to.” You softly respond and he pops an eye open to examine your expression, body language. “Stay.”
“You’ll be comfortable with that?”
“Course.” You giggle. “I have a stack of extra toothbrushes, you know, in case the zombie apocalypse happens and we need them for a variety of reasons.” He snorts.
“Ah, touché. Nice to know you’d yield a toothbrush as a weapon. Makes me feel really safe.” You playfully toss a crumpled napkin his way. 
“Come.” You take his hand and lead him into your bathroom so he can get settled however he’d like. You hand him an extra toothbrush that he takes. Takes him a minute to register the item in his hand, that he’s standing in your bathroom getting ready for bed at your place. Which, is incredibly domestic as fuck for him; someone who doesn’t even know what this is or if there’s such a thing with labels nowadays. As much as he feels like he should drop it and forcibly distance himself from this, he can’t. Because he’d be lying to himself. How can he when he’s so incredibly smitten, so fucking in love with you already?
He adores you. He can’t lie that he’s been drawn to you from the start. He could never drop this or distance himself from you. His days don’t mean shit without you now.
Yeosang brushes his teeth and gets himself a little more comfortable while you tidy up in the kitchen and living room. The TV is off, and the only lights illuminating the space are from the kitchen and your Sailor Moon LED lamp on your nightstand. It’s blue, and it casts a pretty shade against the wall. 
“Are you gonna get ready for bed after?”
“Uh huh.” You wipe your hands on the hand towel.
“I can sleep on the couch—”
“No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t mind sharing my bed.” You laugh.
“A-are you sure, Y/N? I don’t wanna invade your space more than I already have.”
“Swear it’s okay. Or else, I wouldn’t have told you to stay and offered an extra toothbrush from my stash.” He chuckles and nods.
“Okay.” He slowly pads over to your bed, throwing the sheets from your neatly-made bed back. He rips off his hoodie and tosses it aside, leaving him in his white tee and sweats. He slips into the side of your bed, resting his hand behind his head with a leg propped up while he scrolls through his phone and waits for you. Within a couple of minutes, you’re shutting off the lights in your bathroom and walking over to the other side of the bed. He watches you go through your phone, soft music now playing through your bluetooth speakers.
“Hope you don’t mind. It actually helps me fall asleep.” You slip in next to him and it suddenly feels so fucking unreal that he’s laying next to you. About to sleepover for the night. Ain’t that some shit?
“It’s okay.” You turn to face him and he does the same, eyeing your features under the blue light. He pushes your hair back before caressing your cheek. 
“Why do you keep staring at me, Kang Yeosang?”
“You’re just.. so pretty, Y/N.” He says close to a whisper. “It almost feels unreal.”
“Stop.” You giggle. 
“I mean it.” He smiles, gently tugging you by the elbow to bring you closer. “Come here.” You scoot closer, resting right near Yeosang’s chin. His thumb glides over the surface of your chin, lifting it ever so slightly so that he can get a better look at your face from his angle. You edge a little closer, your lips grazing his before he dips forward. The kiss immediately starts heated, full of emotions. As you deepen the kiss, Yeosang lets out a small groan while his hand rests on your cheek. You press against him more, and he’s doing everything he can to take it slow, take his time. But, he can’t. Not when you know how to kiss so fucking well. Not when you continue to press against him, rocking yourself against his rock hard dick. Every kiss, every move, turns Yeosang on a ‘lil more than the last and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to hold it in tonight. He’s about to break.
“Fuck.” He lets out a shaky sigh, sucking onto your bottom lip as he tugs back and lets go. You slowly guide his hand down your chest, to your waist; to the lining of your panties. Yeosang’s fingers toy with the material under your shorts, slightly dipping beneath the hemline to test the waters all while kissing you deeply. When he finally gains the courage to explore a little deeper, he toys with your folds before sliding a digit in— trying to get a feel for how tight and wet you are.
“You’re so wet.” He whispers against your lips, but he barely gets the last half out before you’re swallowing his words and taking him in for another kiss. Yeosang slips in another finger, this time, pumping it at a faster pace than the last; a stupid smirk growing on his face when he hears the sounds coming from your pussy. “That’s so fucking hot.”
“Sangie.” You whimper. “More. Please.” He hisses hearing you beg, weak at the doe-eyed, innocent look you give him.
“You’re dripping.” He bites onto his bottom lip, curling his fingers into you. “All this for me?” You let out a choked moan when he hits you right at your spot, your hips getting a mind of their own and slowly riding his fingers. Your hand comes down to palm Yeosang’s hard cock through his sweats.
“Sangie, like that.” You nod to continue egging him on, begging him to let you cum, to push you over the edge. It doesn’t take long after this for you to let out a loud moan, your orgasm washing over your entire body. Yeosang smiles contently as he slowly pumps his fingers into you, thumb grazing your overly-sensitive clit that you’re having to grab at his wrist to stop him from doing so. “Oh shit.” You mewl while Yeosang laughs, pressing feathery kisses to your temple, jaw, corner of your lips. You take the two digits into your mouth and get a taste of yourself, Yeosang hissing when he watches you do. He loves the way your tongue swirls around his fingers, pretty lips wrapped around them while you get a taste.
“Oh my god.” He groans a bit. “You’re gonna kill me.” You look at him, dazed and all over this cloud nine shit, hoping you can satisfy his needs, too. You continue to palm him, feeling how incredibly hard he is through the material and wanting more of him.
“Can I?” He nods, allowing you to pull his length from its confines and slowly pump him. His dick is perfectly thick, sitting at a good length. The thought of him pumping this inside of you makes you drool. Your thumb swipes his tip, spreading his pre-cum across the surface. You work your hand in certain motions, pumping his length at a continuous, steady pace. You feel him buck into your hand a few times, his subtle way of asking you to keep going, to keep up at the pace you’re going.
“Oh—” He mutters. “Fuck, yeah.” He moans. “That’s it, baby.” You melt at the petname he lets out, his sultry tone sending goosebumps throughout your body. He begins to pant, signaling that he’s close. All Yeosang can think of is taking that next step with you and god, does he want you. But, he’ll take his time. He wants to do right by you. “I’m gonna cum— baby—” He chokes out. You pick up the pace and let him buck into your hand a few more times before you’re catching his release into your hand, a small amount landing on his lower tummy. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” You laugh. “Don’t be.”
“Let me help you get cleaned up.” He takes a napkin from your nightstand to clean himself up, then you, your hand. You’ve gotten some of his load on your finger, which you gladly take into your mouth. Yeosang pauses as he watches you, shaking his head in response.
“You’re actually out to kill me. There’s no way.” He glares at you while you giggle, letting him wipe down the rest of your hand. “You okay?”
“I am.” 
“Want me to grab you anything? Water?”
“No. Just hold me.” You say cutely and Yeosang can’t even think about rejecting your request. He pulls you close and places a big kiss on your forehead before coming down to your lips. “Night Sangie.” You say against his chest.
“Goodnight, love.” His heart swells when you snuggle into him, shortly falling asleep within the next few minutes. He takes his time to admire you, eyes trained on your features, your sleeping body, the soft smile on your face. He thinks this is the moment he truly could admit that he had started to really fall in love with you because there’s no other place he’d rather be. If he could choose any moment in time, he’d come back to this. Over and over again. He’d choose you, over and over again.
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“Y/N. When are you coming home?” Changbin asks on the other line, with Ryujin and San sitting next to him.
“Yeah, cause. It’s lonely out here. I need you. These two are useless—” Changbin turns his phone away so he’s the only one in view, glaring at Ryujin next to him.
“By the way this is my phone call with Y/N. I don’t remember inviting you two?”
“Why me? I’m just here!” San whines. “She’s my bestfriend, too. Huh, Y/N?”
“She was my bestfriend first, you assholes!” Ryujin shoves San away.
“Anyway.” Bin fixes the phone, making you laugh. “Seriously, when are you coming home? We haven’t seen you in years and you won’t even let us come down to visit wherever you are.”
“Cause I’m busy and exploring.” You vaguely say. “I dunno when I’ll come home.”
“Do you even miss home?”
“I do. I miss you guys. I miss Innie.”
“Then?”
“Then, I don’t know? I’ve been doing okay here.”
“Are you replacing us with your friends there?” San asks.
“No one is replacing anyone.”
“Your parents miss you.” 
“As I’ve heard.” Your heart sinks; all of a sudden, you’re homesick again, and you miss your friends. It had been hard to leave them, too. But, you needed to find yourself, and you needed to work on things for your own self, for your own sake and peace. It was important.
“Look. You don’t have to move back home, but at least visit if you don’t want us coming to you.”
“I know. Maybe soon, yeah?” You smile. “I promise. So? Tell me. What else is new there?”
“Nothing.” Changbin snorts. “Nothing at all.”
“Ryujin and I started learning tennis.” You laugh at San.
“Tennis?!”
“It’s fun!” Ryujin pouts. “I’d usually do this with you, but I have to settle for the boys.” It’s true— Ryujin was your bestfriend, and you used to do everything with her. Whether it was staying up late and exploring, going out to parties, trying all kinds of activities; she was your girl and vice versa. You missed her so, so much. But, she knew how much you needed this break and how much you needed to be away from the past, old memories. She understood you, and even though it hurt to let you go, she just wanted what was best for you.
“I just sit and watch.” Changbin adds. “Fetch the ball a few times.”
“Sounds like you.” You laugh.
“What about you? Anything new down there?”
“No.” You quickly change the subject. “Innie told me he got the internship at one of the companies he applied to!”
“Yeah, we saw him the other day and he told us. Even more of a reason for you to come home to celebrate?” You chuckle.
“Yeah.” You hear the shower cut off in the bathroom. “Anyway, I gotta go. Got some plans for tonight.”
“Okay. Be safe.” Changbin responds before Ryujin and San fit themselves into the tiny frame and wave.
“Miss you. Love you.” Ryujin pouts.
“I miss you and love you guys. Always.” You wave once more before setting the phone down. You set it on the charger as you sit criss-crossed on your bed, resting in Yeosang’s shirt. He steps out of your bathroom in some track pants while unfolding the shirt in his hands. You can’t help but fix on his abs just as he’s about to throw his shirt on, feeling all sorts of butterflies in your tummy after seeing how incredibly ripped he was.
You knew he was built well, but to see this— see it in action and in front of your eyes was different.
“My personality is up here.” Yeosang catches you staring when he gets his shirt on, a smirk plastered on his face as he crawls back onto your bed and gives you a quick peck to the lips.
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
“So.. you weren’t just staring at me?”
“You did that on purpose. You could’ve thrown your shirt on before leaving the bathroom, you demon.”
“You mad about it?” He bites onto his bottom lip, squeezing your thigh.
“No.” You roll your eyes and he laughs.
“Come here. Gimme a kiss.” You quickly oblige and dip forward to kiss him again; this time, deepening the kiss just enough to please him and tease him [for more]. The way he looks at you when you pull away makes your heart do a thousand flips, and you can’t help but let out a tiny giggle when he taps the tip of your nose. “Were you talking to someone while I was in the bathroom?”
“Oh.” You nod. “Mhm. Just friends.”
“Like Jungkook and them?”
“Childhood friends.” You vaguely respond.
“Oh. From home?” You nod.
“People I grew up with. They’re just checking in.” 
“That’s nice. Are they planning to come visit you or something?”
“No. They’re all too busy for that.” You give him a tiny toothless smile before hopping off the bed to get ready. “Anyway, I’m gonna start getting ready for the party.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Must be nice to just throw on your shit and go.” You laugh, digging through your closet for an outfit.
“You know you’d look good in anything.”
“My makeup!”
“You don’t even need it, pretty.” He lays back on your bed, shutting his eyes to rest for a bit. He replays the conversation you just had in his head, wondering why you had been shying away from sharing details with him. He caught onto the way your lips pursed together when you dropped eye contact. He caught onto the way you quietly responded and quickly changed topics. It’s not the first time he’s noticed, but he would never press you, no. On the other hand though, he can’t lie; he wishes you felt more comfortable with him. It all goes back to him wondering what else he can do to gain your trust. What else can he do to feel like a safe space for you? Why was he starting to feel like you were so close, yet so distant?
❊ FLASHBACK
“So, how are you liking town so far?”
“Good. It’s been fun. Nice to get away from the city.”
“That’s cool. I bet it’s nice to get away. Must be a good change from the hustle of the city.” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m sure Y/N has been a good tour guide, too?” He smirks.
“Uh, yeah.” Yeosang shyly laughs. “Yeah..”
“You guys are cute.”
“I don’t really know what this is to tell you honestly.” Jungkook shrugs.
“I know she likes you. A lot.”
“I—” Yeosang lets out a breath. “I like her, too.”
“The hesitation?” Jungkook chuckles and Yeosang shakes his head.
“Oh no. Not like that. I just.. wasn’t expecting it.”
“Isn’t that the best, though? When you least expect it.”
“Yeah.” Yeosang says softly. “Sounds cliché, but she really makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.” Jungkook smiles.
“Cute. So. Do you plan to make this an official thing even with you leaving at the end of the month? Or, do I need to step into my overprotective friend mode?” Yeosang chuckles.
“No. Don’t worry. I’m not like that, I swear. I don’t— I don’t do temporary.” Is all he responds with. “There’s nothing more that I want than to be on a solid page with her. If that’s what she wants.”
“Course. I know she does even if she shies away from it.” Jungkook laughs a bit and does a slight head tilt. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve known that girl for a couple of years and I still feel like I know her but at the same time, I don’t. I just know she’s been through a lot and she moved here from who knows where to start a new chapter for herself.” He turns to Yeo. “Although I do believe you and think you’re genuinely a good guy, please just.. take care of her.” Yeosang nods slowly. He wonders why you haven’t opened up to your friends much, being that they’re people you surround yourself with often. He gets it, though. It took him awhile to really open up to his friends— even now, he doesn’t think there are things he can openly share with Chaerin or Jongho compared to Wooyoung. Still. It makes him feel a little sad that you might feel alone, even in a room full of people. What can he do to be of comfort to you?
“Of course.” Yeosang sits back in his seat, wondering how he could possibly pull this off. Because he does want this, he does. And he’d be willing to make it work, despite the 4 hour distance. He’d come back and forth if he had to, keep up with plans to visit each other and take initiative. It’ll be hard, and it’ll be an adjustment until you two can figure out a better plan. But, he wants you and that’s all that matters to him at this point.
❊ END
Evening comes pretty quickly, especially when you’re distracted by Yeosang through his kisses and his need to be in between your thighs. You eventually finish getting ready post-orgasm, throwing on a cargo skirt, a cropped baby tee and sneakers. Yeosang is in black jeans, a white tee, and combat boots. The two of you start pregaming together until Keeho pulls up to your apartment— Mingi and Mina loudly yelling from their seats from all the excitement. 
The bar is closer to the outskirts of town, and Jungkook chose this bar in particular since the owners had been longtime friends of his family. The bar was also recently remodeled, with more modern and sleek touches, making it easy on the eye. The weather is beautiful tonight, the air crisp and not too cold. The windows are down as Keeho drives down the road along the water, blasting his playlist with everyone singing along. After a good 15 minutes, Keeho pulls into the large lot in front of the bar, carefully navigating into a spot while people are walking across to join the party. The music is muffled, but can be heard booming through the building even from down the road. You lace your fingers with Yeo’s, holding onto his hand tightly as you and your friends walk into the bar. It’s packed already, and you’re having trouble finding Jungkook in the crowd until Mingi spots him in between the bar and DJ.
“He’s over there!” Mingi nods for you all to follow him to the opposite end of the bar. Jungkook is a social butterfly, so he’s got people swarming him left and right. When he finally spots you from over the shoulder of the person he’s talking to, he smiles from ear to ear, raising his glass up.
“About fucking time!”
“Miss Mina needed extra time to get ready.” Keeho laughs. “Who the fuck did you invite?”
“People who invited people who invited more.. people.” Jungkook shrugs. “Yeosang, my guy!” He gives Yeosang a dap, pulling him into a good hug afterwards. “Let’s go take some shots. On me!”
“Oh shit, boss is paying for shots?!” Mingi says excitedly, immediately following him to the bar with Yeosang alongside of him.
“Aye, Y/N. Take my shot for me please. Don’t disappoint me.” You snort at Keeho’s request.
“I got you!” And so with that, everything takes off from here. The three of you participate in taking shots— one turning into three, four? Both you and Yeosang try to pace yourselves though, not wanting to be incredibly drunk and too inebriated to enjoy tonight. But, the shots you’ve taken are enough to get you going; feeling carefree enough to drag Yeosang onto the dance floor and have your alone time with him. It starts incredibly fun and harmless, the two of you genuinely enjoying each other’s company as the different songs blast through the walls of the bar. Your friends join in, the boys rapping along to every song and trying to act cool in front of you, Mina and the other girls surrounding the group. It’s a fun time; you laugh. You joke. You play around. Yeo throws his arm over you from time to time, admires you as you happily dance and sing along. You step out for a few water and bathroom breaks in between, and eventually, you and your friends are separated and spread across the room. Mingi, Keeho and Jungkook are finding themselves a few pretty girls to hang out with, while Mina is flirting away with one of the bartenders. You and Yeosang find yourselves falling deeper into the crowd, now in your own little world where you’re surrounded by strangers, but are focused on each other and each other only. At some point, you get pushed to the corner near the window from how packed the room has gotten over time. You don’t mind it though, because now, the energy between you and Yeosang has flipped to something more intense. More tension. More need. More desire. You’ve been dancing all up on him for the past hour or so, and he’s been enjoying every minute of it. 
He sits on the window sill, hands gripping on the edges with his legs spread— enough to make room for you in between, giving him the best view of you bending over and working your ass against him. He subtly bites onto his bottom lip when you get him at the best angles, his hand slowly snaking up to your hip to help guide you and keep up with the rhythm. You bring yourself up as you continue to dance on him, looking back to see the dazed expression on his face. You giggle a bit just as the song transitions into another, letting Yeosang wrap his arms around you and hold you close.
“Killing me.” He says in your ear, large hands resting on your thighs; if he travels any further, he’ll be right where you need him.
“Are you having fun?” You turn to him, arms wrapped around his neck. 
“Yeah, I am.” He gently squeezes at the back of your thighs, right beneath your ass. “Why, are you?”
“Yeah, but I kinda wanna get outta here.” Your eyes shift from his, down to his lips— back up to his brown orbs. He subtly bites onto his bottom lip and nods, face only inches away from yours. If he wasn’t mistaken, he sees the look in your eyes, and it’s on the same wavelength as his. He just needs to get you home, quick.
“Whatever you wanna do, love.” You giggle, finding the courage to plant a kiss on his lips. He doesn’t pull away though, no. He deepens the kiss, letting out a shaky exhale in between.
He’s having trouble composing himself and he’s afraid he won’t be able to anymore when he gets you alone.
“Let’s go.” You break away from the heated kiss, lips puffy from the contact. You grab his hand and navigate through the crowd, bidding Jungkook, Keeho and Mingi farewell as you two slip out of the party with ease. 
As you work to call a taxi, Yeosang instantly latches onto you— hands gripping at your waist from behind while he plants kisses along your jaw, neck. When the taxi finally comes, you slip in with a giggle, aching from the distance in the back seat of the car. Yeosang can’t take his eyes off of you, bringing a hand to your thigh to keep you close, to let you know how badly he wants you tonight.
Even when you finally arrive at your studio, Yeosang gives you some distance to fiddle through your keys and finally unlock the door. He should be given a gold medal for how cool and composed he’s keeping himself.
That is, until the door shuts.
You let out a squeal when you feel Yeosang tug on your wrist, pulling you against him to kiss you. The kiss is deep, and everything feels like it’s laid out on the table. No holding back, no restraints.
“Need you so badly.” He says in between his strong kisses, holding you closely by the waist while you wrap your arms around his neck. He slowly backs you towards the bed and pushes up against you, feeling how hard he is even through his jeans.
“You have me.”
“Are you sure about this? Do you have a condom?”
“I am.” You nod. “I am. More than sure. I’m on the pill.” You tug at the hem of his shirt. 
Sooner or later, clothes are being ripped off and tossed into every corner of the studio. You find yourself underneath Yeosang, biting onto your bottom lip when he pulls out his pretty cock and pumps himself a few times. He takes the tip and runs it down your folds, edging the tip right at your clit a few times to tease you. You let out a small whimper while Yeosang lets out a breathy moan.
“Sangie.” You beg, pleading through your look, for him to go further. He bites onto his bottom lip this time, smirking as he watches your face contort in pleasure when he slowly sinks himself into you. “Oh my god.” The stretch feels so, so good; Yeosang moving at a steady pace as he keeps your legs cocked open for him. He lets out a breath while rocking into you, shutting his eyes when he sees you beautifully laid out beneath him just to keep his composure for a second. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Wrap around me so well—” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s letting out a moan, enjoying the way you feel way too much. His body comes down to hover over yours slightly; just enough to hold his own weight but keep close to you. You moan into his mouth when he picks up the pace, thrusting into you a little rougher than the last time. But every single thrust, move, kiss is full of feeling, emotion. Full of lust. Desire. Passion.
“Oh shit.” Your moans are louder this time, echoing over the walls and surely blending into your neighbor’s. 
“Want you—” Yeosang whispers in your ear as he continues to thrust deep inside of you, letting you feel every inch of his length in all the right places. “Want you to be mine.” He gives off a breathy moan, biting onto your jaw, gently sucking onto your neck.
“I am yours.” You breathe out. 
“Yeah?” He sits back a bit, thumb now coming to your clit to continue pushing you over the edge. “Say it again, baby.”
“I’m yours.” 
“Louder.” He growls.
“I’m yours!” You mewl, hand grabbing at your tit while Yeosang fucks into you roughly; clit aching and coil threatening to snap. 
“That’s it.” He coos. “So good for me.” And it only takes a few more snaps of his hip, thumb still playing with your sensitive nub before you unravel underneath him. You cry in pleasure, body trembling as your orgasm washes over your body. “Can you ride me, princess? Wanna see you ride me.” He hisses, trying to keep himself together as you continue to feel the after-shocks of your orgasm, walls still squeezing him tightly. You oblige, switching positions and instantly sliding down his length. He lets out a loud groan, head falling back against the wall with hooded lids while he adjusts to the feeling. You waste no time finding a good pace, rocking back and forth on his cock— clit still feeling sensitive from your first orgasm. 
“Yeosang, fuck. Feel so full.”
“God damn.” He lets out another breathy moan, hands coming to your hips to guide you. “Just like that.” You pick up your pace, switching between bouncing on his dick to rolling your hips slowly, deeply. “Baby— close—” He pants, unable to compose himself any further. The friction against your clit feels too good that you find your second orgasm bubbling quickly, only taking a few more rolls against Yeosang for you to tip over the edge again. You still in your position while trembling in his grip, and Yeosang fucks up into you to chase his own high shortly afterwards. He releases his load into you, painting your walls white with his seed. You fall forward, lazily kissing him as you both try to bring yourselves back down from cloud nine and regulate your breathing. Yeosang coos you, hands coming up to rub your back and your sides while pressing gentle kisses to your skin. He praises you, telling you how well you did and how perfect you are for him. He gives you one last deep kiss before leading you into the bathroom to get washed up and cleaned up for bed. It’s a quick, sweet shower together; washing off the sweat from tonight’s activities before finishing up your bedtime routine and tossing new sheets onto the bed. 
You’ll get to the laundry tomorrow.
Yeosang pulls you onto your chest and cuddles you to sleep, humming along to the song now playing through your bluetooth speakers. It doesn’t take too long for Yeo to fall asleep after you, the exhaustion from tonight hitting him quickly. When morning comes, it’s a lot earlier than Yeosang expects. He was the last to fall asleep, but the first to wake, and he can thank his hard ass dick for that. He tries to shift in his position without waking you, but it’s no use. You’re tucked under his chin nicely while clinging onto him, pressed up to his body as closely as possible. The events from last night keep replaying in his head like a film strip. Now, he’s just fucking horny.
He squeezes at your hip before pressing kisses to your face, his gentle way of waking you up and showing his need. You begin to stir a bit when Yeosang whispers in your ear and tries to wake you up completely. He still has you wrapped in his arms, tucked underneath his chin. “Baby.” He whispers as he continues to softly kiss you on every place possible.
“Mhm?” Your eyes flutter open, and you catch on quick. Yeosang’s hands are roaming all over your sides, his hard dick pressed up against you to feel any friction. 
“I’m so hard.” He almost whines into your ear and it’s enough to get you going. “Want you right now.”
“You have me.”
“Yeah?” He gently nibbles on your earlobes, hand trailing down under his shirt you’re wearing to toy with your panties. “Is it okay if I do this, then?” He rubs at your clit through the material of your panties, feeling the wet patch already seeping through.
“Mhm.” You hum as Yeosang dips down to kiss you, thumb still caressing at your nub. It’s when the kiss deepens that he roughly tugs your panties off and does the same with his own boxer briefs. He doesn’t waste any time to position you right where he needs you; getting you to slightly lift your leg so he can slip in at the right angle. It happens quick, bearing in mind that you’re already wet and going from the way he had woken you up earlier. 
“God, you always feel too good.” He mutters against your lips. His hand holds up your leg as he continues to rock into you; back and forth. It’s slow and steady before he picks it up, cock hitting you in all the best spots from this position. 
“Shit, Sangie�� fuck.” You whimper, hips lightly moving to match his rhythm. He lets out a loud groan when you start to do so, the feeling of your walls squeezing against him making it incredibly hard to last. You kiss him once more, lips lazily grazing over his jaw and neck. He hisses when he feels you messily kiss at the base of his neck and suck on the surface.
“You keep moving like that, I won’t last.” He huffs, beginning to rock into you at a rougher pace. The only sounds filling the room at this point are nothing short of pornographic; skin slapping against skin, loud moans and heavy breathing. “I’m close, baby. Cum with me.” You feel yourself tipping over the edge the more he begins to fuck into you at this position, only taking a few more thrusts before you’re yelling his name and digging your nails into his bicep from how hard it hits you; Yeosang reaching his own climax shortly after. 
“Kang Yeosang.” You breathe out, his lip lazily grazing your forehead.
“Mm, I like it when you call my name like that.”
“Shut up.” You laugh. “Guess no more sleep for us.”
“I mean, we can. We can just repeat the whole process entirely. I’m down for it.”
“You’re so full of shit.” You laugh, dragging him to the bathroom. “Let’s get up.” You drag him to wash up and get ready for the day, throwing on some high waisted shorts and a cropped tank top to match today’s heat. Yeosang’s ass decides to walk around shirtless and in sweats he had brought over, letting them hang on his hips so damn lowly.
“I have to do so much laundry, thanks to you.” Yeo laughs before taking a sip of water, still standing shirtless in your kitchen.
“Baby.” You hum in response as you load your laundry. “Let’s go on that bike ride you’ve been wanting to do after you’re done.”
“Really?” You smile and he nods.
“Mhm. Then we can go out to eat before cozying up tonight.”
“You’re the best.” You get the laundry going before jumping on him and giving him a kiss.
“Wanna go another round?”
“I hate you.” You laugh when Yeo smothers you in kisses, dropping you onto the bed to let him take care of you yet again. He can’t get enough of you.
You finally get to finishing and folding your laundry, all while Yeosang whips up some lunch and sets it on the coffee table for you two to enjoy. After, you take that bike ride with Yeosang down the coast; letting the breeze hit you as you bike down a good 2-3 miles before hopping off and taking pictures together. You take him to a good bbq spot nearby, drinking and feeding each other while enjoying deep conversations together. No topic ever feels dumb or silly around Yeosang, and you’re grateful he happily participates in the conversation regardless of what it is. The both of you laugh loudly and smile the entire time, enjoying each other’s sweet company as you’ve learned to do over these few weeks. It’s easy to admit that Yeosang has become your favorite person, and the best part of your days are now the ones spent with him. You’re positive there’s nothing else that comes close. Nothing. And as much as that makes you happy, it’s the same thing that terrifies you the most.
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You hate thinking about it, but your time with Yeosang is coming to an end. He’d have his last few days before he’s heading back to the city, back to the life he’s used to living. Back to life without you? Because let’s face it— even if he wanted to continue your relationship, it wouldn’t feel the same as having him next to you every day. With the time left, you’re torn between making the most of it, or being torn up over it.
“Baby.” Yeosang tugs on your hand as he continues to lock his fingers with yours, trying his best to grab your attention.
“Huh?” He chuckles.
“Can hear you thinking.” You look down and kick at the rocks beneath your feet.
“You already know what it is.” He lets out a breath before he pauses in his steps, pulling you towards him. He brushes your hair back and gently lifts your chin; his touches all soft, tender.
“Hey. I know it’s easier said than done, but I really don’t want you to worry. As long as you’re willing to work with me through it, then we’ll be good.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay? You’re in this with me, right?” You nod.
“But, Sangie—”
“No but’s.” He laughs when you whine about him not letting you finish your sentence. “Okay, okay. What is it?”
“Will you forget me?” Yeosang’s forehead pinches ever so slightly at the question, head tilting to the side as he reads into it. He can tell there’s sadness swirling in those beautiful eyes of yours, a forced smile creeping at the corner of your lips to downplay the sadness behind it. It breaks his heart that you’d even think that way, so he can’t help but cup your cheek and gently caress the surface.
“Why would you think that, baby? I would never.” He responds softly. “You know how much I want this, right? Despite the distance. Nothing about that will change.”
“Okay.” You respond softly. He lets out a small sigh before planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you in for a tight hug. 
“We’re gonna be okay. As long as you’re with me.”
“I am.” You don’t even realize how pained and choked up you sound when you let the statement fall from your lips; it’s not that you were unsure about Yeosang. You could never be. Yeosang had to be the greatest blessing you have ever been granted with in this fucked up world. An unexpected blessing you weren’t even sure you deserved. How? You were unsure about yourself. How could you be the girl he needs, he deserves, if everyone else deemed you unworthy and useless?
“Then it’ll be fine.” He takes you to the sand and plops down onto the sand, asking for your hand as a way to ask you to join him. You sit next to him, holding onto his arm and resting your head on his shoulder as you look out to the ocean.
“Aren’t you gonna miss it?”
“I will. I’ll miss a lot of things.”
“Like what?” He smirks.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You whine a bit and pout, causing Yeosang to subtly bite onto his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big.
“Yeosang.” You pout.
“I’ll miss you the most.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head. “Here. Why don’t we plan something for the next time we see each other?” He shifts in his position to look at you a little better. “Wanna come to me in the city? You can stay at my place and you can meet my friends.” 
“Okay.” You giggle. “I can ask Jungkook for time off in the next 3 weeks or so?”
“Mhm.” He nods. “Just let me know what date works and I’ll clear everything out for you, love.” You smile and lean back onto his arm.
“Okay. And then?”
“Then, the next time, I’ll come down here. We can go back and forth until we figure out a better plan in the long term. Sound good?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I know it sounds tiring right now, but I hope you know I’m willing to do it for you. No questions asked.” You continue to silently listen to the waves crashing against the sand in front of you. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N. You made everything about coming here worth it.”
“I hope so.”
“You’re mine, yeah?” He asks and you nod against him before kissing him on the cheek. That night, Keeho, Mingi, Jungkook and Mina join for a tiny bonfire, a last hurrah of some sort for Yeo. You laugh seeing him enjoy one of his last moments with the boys, downing beers and singing along to the songs playing on Keeho’s mini bluetooth speakers. From time to time, Yeosang would dedicate his singing to you, playfully hug you from behind and try to smother your face in kisses. You and Mina took charge of snapping a few photos before taking a walk near the water, leaving the boys to trail behind as they fuck around and continue to loudly sing at the top of their lungs.
“So, what are you gonna do when Yeosang goes back? Did you two plan anything?” You nod as you continue to look at the sand beneath you.
“Yeah. I’m gonna ask Jungkook if I can take some time off to visit him.”
“That’s good.” She playfully nudges you. “He’s so sweet, Y/N. He really adores you, it’s so obvious how much he does. I’m glad his vacation brought you two together.”
“Yeah, unexpected things can be good, huh?” She laughs.
“Do you love him?”
“Is it too early to say so?” She shakes her head.
“Never. I think when two people instantly connect and build a connection like that, there is no such thing as too early.” You shrug.
“I just hope I can keep being good for him, you know? Can’t help but think about it. Our distance. Us being apart.”
“You’re good for each other. I can see it.” You shrug.
“He’s too good for me.”
“Stop it. Don’t start getting into your head, okay? He genuinely cares about you.”
“Yeah, I know.” You look at her with a small smile even though your head is already swirling with a million uncertainties— ones she won’t ever know about. “Gonna miss him a lot.”
“You two will get through this and make it work.” You gently bump arms with hers.
“Hope so.” 
“Baby!” Yeosang yells drunkly, coming to hug you from behind. “Baby.” He repeats against your head, giving you a sweet kiss to the cheek.
“Mhm?”
“I really, really like you.” He says near your ear. “You m-make me so happy. Like.. so fucking happy. I didn’t even expect it and truthfully, I kept telling myself I shouldn’t.” He goes on, making Mina giggle as she slowly steps back and lets you two have your space. “B-but I’m glad I just said fuck it because I—” He dips down to look at you in pure adoration and love. “You’re so pretty. God, you’re so pretty. I feel so fucking lucky.” 
“You’re drunk, Sangie.” You laugh and he hugs you tighter from behind, causing you to pause in your steps and sink into his hug a little more.
“Will not confirm nor deny.” You snort. “But, I still mean everything.”
“You’ve been too good to me. What did I do to deserve it?” You ask softly as you lean into his hug, the question mainly meant to stay in your head. Too late now, though.
“You didn’t have to do anything, love.” He snuggles against your neck and gently places a kiss on the surface. “You’re mine.”
“I am.” You bite onto your bottom lip before kissing his hand, unraveling yourself from his arms to hold his hand and walk alongside of him. Sooner or later, the boys decide they’re crashing from the beer and find it a good point to call it a night. They all give Yeosang a big hug before parting, Mina making sure they all make it home in one piece.
Though Yeosang is drunk, he’s able to walk to your apartment without making too much chaos. You find it incredibly endearing how clingy he seems to get while intoxicated, not able to keep his hands off of you the entire time walk home. Not that you were complaining or anything. It’s crazy because he can pick up on the mood shift, the change in the air, when you walk into the apartment. He can tell there’s something else in your eyes, in your look, your touch. You’re not sad, but you aren’t the happiest either. Quite frankly, you’re not sure how to pinpoint the exact feeling, but you’re finding the need to really make use of your time left with Yeosang. For the rest of the night, you just want to be with him. To kiss every inch, to keep him close. To love on him. You don’t say much as you continue to walk into your studio, quietly grabbing your pajamas before heading to the bathroom and asking Yeosang to join you for a quick shower. His eyes are still glazed over and slightly red, but he joins you anyway— undressing and tossing his clothes aside before stepping into the hot shower. 
Everything about the shower from start to finish is intimate; Yeosang starts off by helping shampoo and condition your hair, long fingers massaging deep into your scalp. You do the same with him, running your hands through his hair as you wash off the product, letting the water cascade down his features. The entire time, Yeosang tightens his grip on your hips, keeping you close even as you wash him off. He doesn’t waste a minute to kiss you, tongue lining your bottom lip as a subtle way to ask for permission— to take this further. As the kiss deepens, you gently tug on the hair resting on the nape of his neck, letting out small moans when you feel Yeosang’s hard length pressed against you. No words are exchanged, but both you and Yeosang transmitted every thought, every feeling, every ounce of pleasure, through your touches, your kisses. He gently backs you to the wall, lifting your leg up and holding it against him— careful not to break the kiss as he finds the perfect angle to tease your slit with his tip and slip himself inside of you. You moan into his mouth when he eases in, the stretch feeling so, so good under the running water.
“God, fuck.” Yeosang moans as he continues to thrust up into you, keeping a slow and steady pace. “So tight for me.”
“Keep going. Please.” You continue to plead for more, and who was Yeosang to deny you of that? He plunges deeper and gets a lil rougher, your back feeling the slight burn from the contact of the cold wall. Your moans are louder this time around, Yeosang continuing to pound into you to bring you to your high.
“I’ll give you everything.” He groans. “Wanna give you the world, baby.” He nibbles onto your earlobe, gently nibbling at your jaw, neck. You tug on the ends of his hair, slowly moving your hips to work with his rhythm. “Cum for me, hm?” He hums, free hand coming down to massage at your sensitive nub. His thumb works in deep, circular motions— at the perfect pace he knows you respond well to. You whine and beg for Yeosang to keep going, spilling out lewd noises as his cock hits you in all the right places, finally pushing you over the edge after a few more thrusts. Your moans echo and bounce off the bathroom walls, whimpering when he chases his own high. His movements become a little sloppy with the force he’s exerting, his own coil snapping within him not too long after you. He coats your walls, muffling his moans against your neck as he gives you every last drop;
Giving you every last bit of him.
“That was nice.” You tease with a giggle before giving him another sweet kiss to the lips.
“It was. We should definitely get cleaned up now.” You nod, letting Yeosang lather you up in some body wash in between kisses before you repeat the same on him. 
When you both finally step out of the shower and finish getting ready for bed, you immediately tuck yourself into Yeosang’s arms, indulging in his warmth and scent. You wish you could pause time and keep it here forever— in the warmest, safest spot you know. And Yeosang feels the same way, too. He wants to repeat the night over and over again, especially when he finds himself yearning for another round just to show you how much you nean to him; laying kisses all over your face, body, before he gets you on all fours and fucks into you like no tomorrow. Especially when you’re so, so good to him, begging and moaning his name like a mantra with every thrust. Especially when you submit to him and give him everything he asks of you. Especially when you tuck yourself into his arms again post-orgasm and cling onto him.
He softly sings a song as he watches you fall into sleep, brushing the hair away from your face to lay a kiss on your forehead. When he looks at you, everything feels right again. When he looks at you, he feels like he’s holding the universe in his arms, has the brightest stars swirling in his orbit. When he looks at you, he sees love. It’s the kind of love he’s never really felt before. One that just feels right, like it’s meant to be. Like he just knows.
“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers against your skin before pulling you closer and shutting his eyes, not wanting to spend a minute away from you.
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The last morning comes, and you wish it hadn’t. But the day is here, and you’re forced to face it regardless if you like it or not. You weren’t sure where this would lead you, but now that you’re having to face it. You’re sad, and you’re wanting to hide. Even if Yeosang never had plans to hurt you in the first place. You know he could never hurt a soul; yet, it still didn’t stop you from having those thoughts, from overthinking, from letting your past run your present. The only thing you felt like you were good at at this point was running— running away as far as possible from problems and potential heartbreak.
Luckily, you’re alone this morning and you can cry about it. Yeosang left you alone to go on a run and it’s the perfect time to fucking cry over all of this. You cry about it without Yeosang having to know, you cry about it without any worry that he’d see you. Because you needed to. You needed to cry about it, and you needed to let your feelings out. You were gonna hate this. You were gonna be so sad without him. You might even feel a little regret for having fallen for someone who wasn’t meant to stick around. What if you couldn’t be it for him? What if he realized he couldn’t do this with you? What if he realized you weren’t worth it? What if you just couldn’t be the girl who could take care of him and treat him well in this distance? It all feels so sickening and so, so awful. You should’ve known that maybe, you just weren’t ready to face it. To face this. To be.. this.
You sob into your hands when every negative thought, every overbearing insecurity starts to fill your head— telling you this, telling you that. You weren’t sure what to do from here, and you weren’t sure how things would actually go with Yeosang being gone. It’s not that you didn’t have faith in him. You didn’t have faith in yourself, in your ability to be what Yeosang needed, to provide the love he so absolutely deserved. You didn’t know.
When you’ve cried all that you have left in you, you quickly pad to his bathroom and wash up— making sure to add a little cream to your extra sensitive spots around the eyes to help cover up the fact that you had been crying all morning. You change into the clothes you arrived in last night, cleaning around Yeosang’s studio and making his bed. You whip up a good breakfast, plating the food just as he walks through the door in his loose muscle tank and shorts; face still gleaming with sweat.
“Hey.” He quickly pecks you on the cheek, smiling at the breakfast you made. “Yum.” You giggle. “Let me go shower real quick and I’ll join you, okay? Thank you for the food.” He kisses you on the lips, smiling into the kiss before squeezing your ass and walking off to the bathroom.
Despite the crying, nothing else felt off that morning. At least, Yeosang didn’t pick up on anything, and he certainly couldn’t tell you had been crying while he was out. Though, he does pick up on how much sadder you look, and how much quieter you’ve been today compared to the rest of his time here. It does feel different, but pairing it with the circumstances, it wasn’t entirely unusual. After breakfast, you clean up the dishes and help Yeosang pack up all his things. It’s taking everything in you not to cry again, your heart shattering to pieces at the uncertainty you feel. Yeosang will never know, though. Cause as long as he’s still here, you’ll make sure he spends his time wisely so that he’s returning happy. Rested. Content. Complete. That’s all that matters right now.
You and Yeo take a quick walk to the convenience store to grab him some food for the road, Yeosang saying his goodbyes to the people he’s met and run into. You wish he could stay, maybe it would be easier. But, you’d never be that selfish to make him choose. He shouldn’t have to choose.
“Baby.” Yeosang calls for you, tugging you by the hand and pulling you close.
“Hm?” You hum while he brushes your hair back.
“You okay?” You pout a bit, but you shake your head.
“I will be.” He can see the tears welling in your eyes and he sucks on his teeth before hugging you tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“We’ll be okay.” He says softly. “Remember? We’re going to visit each other and I’ll come back here as soon as I can. It’s nothing a quick trip into town can’t fix.”
“I know. But, I’m just gonna miss you. A lot.”
“I’ll miss you, too. It’ll come before you know it.” You don’t respond because you’re not sure what else you can say at this point. You’re heartbroken and sad, and there’s nothing that can mask the feelings you’re experiencing at this moment.
Even the ride to the train station is quiet. You’ve opted to look out the window the entire time while holding his hand tightly. Jungkook lets you and Mingi stroll into work a little later today to tend to Yeosang, so Mingi’s in the driver’s seat. He chimes in a few times here and there, but otherwise, he keeps to himself. He does it because the few times he’s looked in the rear view mirror, he can hear you thinking. He can see the internal battle that’s going on, he can see you fighting yourself to stay collected. When on the inside, he knows you’ve already fallen apart.
“You have to come back, alright? We’ll miss you. We’ll wait for you to visit again.” Mingi says, pulling Yeosang into a hug before patting his back a few times and helping him with his luggage. Mingi steps away to give you two your moment, and all you do is throw your arms around Yeosang tightly. He whispers how much you mean to him and how much he’ll miss you against your head, telling you that he’ll wait for you to come to him and that he’ll always choose you. You look up at him and finally give him a few pecks to the lips, taking in every last bit of him before he goes.
“I love you.” He says lowly, and it makes you feel excited and sad at the same time to hear the words come out of his mouth.
“I love you, too.” You stick a few extra polaroids you’ve taken of him, the town, your friends and the both of you together in his jacket pocket before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It’s a hug that feels like the last time, and it shatters your heart into a million pieces knowing you won’t be able to do this tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. He leaves you with one last deep, passionate kiss. 
When his figure disappears into the station, you break down in Mingi’s arms, and he’s having to hold you, console you, for a good couple of minutes. He tries his best to coo you and calm you down, but he knows there’s nothing he can say or do to make this better at the moment. As much as he’d like to block you and save you from your own thoughts, he can’t. But, he holds you and holds you because it’s the best thing he can do as your friend right now.
“You’ll see him soon, things will fall into place again. Let’s get you home.” You quietly oblige, continuing to cry silently in the passenger’s seat once Mingi takes off and brings you home.
Yeosang hates it. He looks out the window of the train, watching the town drift away behind him. He feels his own tears pricking his bottom lids and he can’t help but quickly wipe away at it when the town gets further and further away. Separating from you was the worst thing he’s felt in awhile, even though he’ll see you soon. It’s just hard to have to go about his days without seeing you like he used to. It’ll be a big fucking adjustment.
He texts you during his train ride, checking in on you and making sure you’re okay. You don’t text him too quickly, and he suspects it’s because you’re having a hard time yourself. You do eventually respond though, and it puts a smile on his face that you still seem to be the same despite the circumstances.
“Look who’s back!” Wooyoung, Jongho and Chaerin stand there to welcome him back. He smiles at them, giving them all a big hug. It’s a big source of comfort for him right now.
“So, how was your trip?! Heard you were having a good ass time.” Jongho teases from the back seat, squeezing Yeosang’s shoulders. 
“We missed you.” Chaerin adds.
“I didn’t. I think that was just you.” Wooyoung teases and she flips him off.
“Fuck off Wooyoung.”
“I missed you guys, too. It was fun, though.”
“Tell us about Y/N.” Wooyoung smirks from the driver’s seat. “Do we get to meet her?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Yeosang smiles to himself at the thought of you before diving into the details of everything he’s done in town, all the people he met, Keeho, Mina, Jungkook and Mingi. They all grab dinner at a sushi spot in town, now giving Yeosang updates about what’s been going on at work and in their lives over the past month. Chaerin keeps close to him even though she’s torn about her feelings right now. Of course, she’s happy that Yeosang is happy. It’s all she wants. But, she won’t lie and say she’s okay because she’s not. Right now, she’ll push her feelings aside and welcome him home because she is glad to have him back. She knows he needs his friend more than anything. Overall, it’s a good dinner, and he’s happy to be back with his friends.
Afterwards, Wooyoung takes everyone home, bidding Yeosang farewell and telling him to sleep well before his first day back tomorrow. Yeosang lets out a sigh when he kicks off his shoes and sets his things aside. He immediately gets to showering before unpacking, neatly folding his clothes back into his closet unless he’s tossing them into his hamper. He looks around his empty apartment, grabbing a cold glass of water to drink before shutting off the lights. Settling at home feels.. weird, to say the least. Home is still home, and he finds comfort in that. But, home doesn’t feel as complete without you. 
He pads over to his room and finishes tidying up the last bit of his things before getting his clothes ready for tomorrow. He digs into his jacket hanging on his chair, pulling out the shell you gifted him earlier in the month and the polaroids you stuck into his pocket. He sets them down on the nightstand next to his bed, smiling to himself when he quickly flips through them. It’ll be a nice ‘lil reminder when he needs it the most, so he keeps it there. When he settles in bed, he grabs his phone to read your latest texts. He gets distracted and smiles when he sees your picture as his lockscreen, his numbers finding his way to your contact information and pressing the call button.
“Hey you.” He bites his lip hearing your voice on the other line.
“Hey baby.”
“Finished with your dinner?”
“Mhm. It was nice.”
“You tipsy, huh?” You giggle and it makes him crack an even bigger smile.
“Kinda, yeah. I miss you, pretty.”
“I miss you too, Sangie. I’m glad dinner was good. I’m sure your friends are happy to have you back.”
“Mm, they’re okay. How’s everything there?”
“Good. I just got home not too long ago from the restaurant. Trying to keep myself as busy as possible.” He lets out a breath, throwing his hand behind his head.
“I get that.”
“You ready to head back to work tomorrow?”
“Sheesh, hell no.” He laughs. “But, it was a good month away so I can’t really complain.”
“It’ll be fine, love.” You say softly and Yeosang’s heart soars; he can almost feel his heart ready to burst out of his chest.
“Mmyeah.”
“You should go to sleep.”
“Only if you come with.” You laugh. 
“Well, I am in bed. Can we fall asleep on the phone together?”
“Of course. I’ll probably be up early, though.”
“That’s fine. I know you’ll hang up and leave me for work.”
“Baby.” Yeosang kinda whines and you laugh a little louder.
“Kidding. I know, I know.”
“I can’t wait until I see you already.” Yeosang says sleepily, turning to his side as he plugs his phone into the charger.
“Same.”
“Damn.” Yeosang groans a bit, eyes getting heavy. “Fucking hate sleeping without you.”
“Go to sleep, tipsy.”
“I love you, Y/N.” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat as you let his words marinate.
“I love you, too.” You respond, barely above a whisper. “Sleep well, Yeosang.”
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The first day Yeosang steps back into the office, he’s greeted by a couple of people that are happy to have him back. Everyone compliments on the glow he’s sporting and how happy and refreshed he seems to be. He can’t help but shyly laugh about it, a red tint coloring his cheeks when he tells them he’s had a good time and that he might’ve met someone really special there. He sets his things down onto his desk, fixing up a few things before he heads towards the kitchen with his mug in hand. There are a few interns sitting in one of the main conference rooms, and Yeosang is able to get a good look at them on his way to the kitchen. They all look fairly young, as if they had just graduated. One sits at the far corner in a loose grey button up shirt tucked into his slacks, black frames sitting on his face. He gives Yeosang a tight-lipped smile when they accidentally make contact, making Yeosang give him a curt nod in response. 
“Hella interns.” Wooyoung throws his arm around Yeosang as they continue to walk to the kitchen. 
“Do we have one?”
“No. I think most of them are in R&D. Operations. A select few in marketing and media.”
“Cool.”
“So, when exactly are we going to meet Y/N?”
“She’s gonna come down in a few weeks.” He glares at Woo. “When she does, please don’t be all up in her space.” 
“Why not?” Woo laughs loudly. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.” He smiles widely at his bestfriend. “Fucking champ, look at you. Not only did you get some, but you also got a girlfriend out of it.” Yeo nudges him in the chest as he grabs a cup of coffee.
“The hell is wrong with you, seriously.”
“She’s cute.” Wooyoung smiles as he picks up Yeosang’s phone resting on the counter. “Is Mina single?” Yeosang snatches the phone out of his grip and rolls his eyes.
As for the rest of the day, it goes by as normally as possible. Yeosang falls back into his routine quickly; the only change now being that he’s carved out time to talk to you on the phone or facetime you. All the things he does in a day, he does it with you in mind— he takes pictures to send to you and vice versa, he thinks of little things he can buy for you and surprise you with later. He cooks himself a good meal or two he imagines you’d like. So despite falling back into his usual routine, it’s more exciting this time around because he has you.
Over the days, weeks, leading up to the day he’d see you again, you were good about answering his calls and his texts. You’d send him pictures of yourself, or with your friends and he’d do the same. Sometimes, you’d send him the nastiest nudes and he wouldn’t know how to act, spending some hours late at night having phone sex with you, yearning for every inch of you. Everything made it easier to cope with the distance; every conversation feeling like the first. 
But as time got closer to the day you’d come down to visit him, you’d gotten busier. He didn’t think much of it, knowing you were always so cooped up at the restaurant or shelter. It did make him sad, especially when it’d be hours on end and he’d barely hear from you, or when you’d tell him you were too tired to talk for long. Still, Yeosang didn’t think anything was wrong. He couldn’t think anything was wrong because there wasn’t any telling sign that could point to a particular problem besides you being tired. He trusted you, though. He remained patient. Now that he thinks about it, maybe he shouldn’t have, maybe he should’ve pressed a little harder to keep your attention. Yeosang wishes he can rewind time— rewind time to when things felt perfect, when things felt so good and so new. So fresh. So beautiful. Especially when the day comes that he gets to see you again. Or so, he thought.
He wakes up to a rather early ‘goodmorning’ text from you, but that’s all there is to it. He sends a quick ‘can’t wait to see you’ in response before scrambling to get up and get ready for work. Despite being a few minutes late, he’s still happily walking around the office. He greets a few people goodmorning, which is a bit out of character for him, but he smiles it off anyway. Grabs his usual cup of coffee while running into a few of the new interns and carries on with his day.
“Is she coming?!” Jongho pops up at Yeosang’s desk while he’s deep into his pile of work, trying to get it all knocked out of the way so he can stroll up out of here sooner than later.
“Mhm! She should be on the way.”
“Dude, fuck work? Get outta here and get ready to see your girl.” Yeosang shakes his head and laughs. “You should’ve called in sick.”
“Yeah, cause they’d definitely let me do that after taking a whole month off.” Yeosang sighs. “All good, I’m almost done here anyway.”
“What’re you gonna do tonight?”
“Take her out for dinner, maybe catch a movie at the theater?”
“Cute. How long is she gonna stay for?”
“A week?”
“Then you’ll go back to see her a few weeks after?” Yeosang nods. “Damn. What about later on in the future? Have you guys discussed that far?” 
“No. But, we will. We’ll figure it out.”
“Let’s plan dinner with her tomorrow or something. Definitely before she leaves.” Yeo nods.
“Yeah, I’ll let her know. She said she really wants to meet you guys.”
“Never seen you this sappy before. Shit is crazy.” Jongho teases before Yeo playfully throws punches his way that he blocks.
Once Yeosang finishes up with work, he waves to his friends and hurries out of the building to make it to the flower shop before it closes.  He grabs a fresh, colorful bouquet, bringing it to his nose before smiling contently— imagining that pretty smile of yours, hearing that cute giggle of yours ringing in the air. 
It had been too long, and Yeosang couldn’t wait to have you back in his arms.
He checks his watch and realizes he’ll be running a few minutes late if he doesn’t hurry and book it to the meeting spot you two had agreed on earlier in the week. He quickly sends you a text to let you know he’s on his way to the spot and shoves his phone into his pocket without giving it a second look. Yeosang picked a spot that wasn’t entirely far from work and right next to a restaurant he made reservations for tonight. At the end of the bridge that joins two streets together, he’d hopefully find you there.
❊ FLASHBACK
“Did you get the link I just sent you?” Yeosang asks on the phone, and you pull up the address to the restaurant he forwarded.
“Mhm! I should go here?”
“Tell the taxi to drop you off across the street, there’s a passenger drop-off area. The restaurant is on the other side of the bridge. I’ll be there.”
“Okay.
“I’m sorry I can’t pick you up at the station, love.” He says defeatedly. “I’m just getting out of work at that time.”
“That’s okay, I can make my way around like a big girl.” You laugh. 
“Can’t wait to kiss you and hold you again.”
“I can’t wait either.”
❊ END
He gets there and he’s half-relieved you haven’t arrived yet, or else he would’ve felt terrible for making you wait. He brushes himself off a bit, holding the bouquet close to his chest while he waits; scanning the surroundings for any sign of you. Everytime he catches sight of a taxi dropping off passengers across the street, he holds his breath; both nervous and excited to see your face after weeks of seeing you solely over the phone. But, nothing.
He looks down at his watch and realizes 15 minutes have passed, and they have been the longest 15 minutes he’s known to ever endure. He’s slightly worried as to why you haven’t arrived yet, dumbing it down to the fact that maybe your train was late. Or, that there was a ton of traffic on the way over [since it is rush hour time]. He waits. And he waits. 
15 minutes turns into 30, and Yeosang finds himself sitting on a bench when it nears 45 minutes. The little light of hope he once had was quickly diminishing; his heart breaking, crumbling to pieces. Those sharp edges cutting into him deep, making him feel sick to his stomach as he sets the bouquet down on the floor when it reaches the hour mark. You weren’t here. You weren’t ever going to be here.
Even though he continues to wait, pulling his phone in and out of his pocket to check if he somehow missed you, missed a call, a text. It’s then that he realizes the text never even went through, that your number was no longer a blue bubble, but green. He feels his hands trembling, lips releasing a shaky breath he had been holding onto; the only thing he’s had left in him. Because he loved you, and he still does, even though tonight showed that maybe, you didn’t feel the same. And what hurts the most for Yeosang is that he’s not sure if you ever did because clearly, you were never his.
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❊ taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs // — (part two here)
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luveline · 1 year ago
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hope my boyfriend's okay request.
hi!!! can I request hurt comfort or angst with spencer reid? maybe reader is just an ordinary girl, not that smart, not that pretty, or even a college drop out (like reader from honeybody) so she is kinda insecure when spencer being kind to her or even ask her on a date?
tysm♡
"Do you want to play?" Spencer asks. 
You're flushed before you open your mouth, startled by his sudden appearance and the new haircut he sports, curls locked back behind his neck. "Sorry, I just wanted to sit down." 
"No, I'm just asking if you want to play," he says, shaking the little briefcase he holds between his fingers to emphasise the rattle of the chess pieces inside. 
You've stolen his chess table again at the park. It's how you met, how you continue to meet —you want somewhere to put your book as you read and Spencer hardly ever makes you move, he just sort of sits with you until someone is in need of an opponent. 
"I don't know how. I don't have the smarts." 
Spencer sits down opposite you, placing the briefcase against the white and black chequered tiles. "Playing chess isn't about being smart. Being good at chess takes learned skill, though. It's like learning a language. Most people can say hello and goodbye if they try, but fluency comes with practice." He smiles at you like you're lovely and pretty and someone worth explaining this too, when you're worrying It's filtering out of your head like water through a sieve. Draining, draining, gone. 
"I don't even think I could remember hello and goodbye," you say. Your attempt to smile back at him is pitiful. 
His smile ebbs. "You're sure you don't want to play? I'd go easy for you." 
You curl the cover of your paperback in your hands, deliberating. Chess is one of those games that seems never-ending. It's full of manoeuvres and techniques, openings, closings, all these learned combinations, strategy like nothing you've ever been able to comprehend. You've never wanted to learn because you know you won't be good, even if you try. 
"Okay," you say quietly. "I really won't be any good." 
Spencer shrugs and begins to retrieve the small wooden chess pieces. "I usually win anyways."
"Have you ever, um, competed? Like the grandmaster things?" 
"No, but I had a friend I competed against for a long time. We played a lot of games. He was better at winning, despite my advantage." Spencer arranges your pieces with care. "Do you need me to teach you the opening moves?" 
He explains slowly. When you need help, he gives it, and he doesn't lord it over your head. It's a little shameful seeing the difference in your intellectual capabilities displayed so clearly, and the longer the game goes on the worse you feel, even though Spencer lets you win. 
"You'll get better every game," he says, returning taken pieces to the board.  
"You want to play again?" you ask. "Come on, Spencer, that can't have been fun for you." 
"Why wouldn't it be?" 
"Because I'm a useless opponent? And I don't really have anything else going for me, either, so it must be boring." It's an awkward thing to say, self-deprecating and stilted considering you and Spencer aren't more than acquaintances. You regret it as soon as you've said it but the frustration of the situation sticks around. "I don't understand why you waste your time with me." 
"It's not wasted if it's with you." Spencer looks genuinely confused, shapely eyebrows pinching. "Is that what you really think? I like spending time with you, I don't need you to be a chess expert to find you interesting." 
"But there's nothing interesting,," you insist. 
"Of course there is…" He straightens a chess piece, gaze split between you and the board. "You don't have to say something from a journal for it to be worth saying. You know, I've had a thousand conversations this year, some of them with professors or academic experts, but," —he puts his hand, now finished with the chess pieces, over his elbow, meeting your eyes shamelessly— "the one I replay the most is from a few weeks ago, when you told me why you like to read in the park." 
"That was just small talk," you say weakly, though it hadn't felt small to you, and now you know it wasn't small for him either. 
"Then I guess I love small talk," Spencer says. "Do you want to play again? I'll teach you some good opening moves if you tell me more about you. Deal?" 
You nod hurriedly, and fail to hide a beaming smile. "Teach me the best one." 
"That's what I meant," he says. 
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