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cheenapri · 8 months ago

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Transactional [Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader]

Day one

Summary: Illumi had decided to spoil you for once, little did you know how much it would cost you in the end.

Word count: 7.6k

Notes: yandere, kidnapping, gender neutral reader, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics, mentions of past abuse, Illumi is kind of an asshole but when is he not, reader is not having a good time

Day two + three Day four + five

Shit.

Why didn’t you figure this out sooner?

You had deluded yourself into believing that maybe he felt bad, that he had actually changed for the better, for your wellbeing, that he actually wanted to treat you for once just to make you happy.

Of course not.

There’s always a catch. It was chiefly for his benefit under the guise of strengthening the involuntary relationship you had with him.

“Fate brought you to me. And thus, it is my duty to protect you.” he explained over and over during his many lectures, trying to drill it into you.

He had only given the illusion of change.

You held your breath, his body looming over you with one hand interlaced with your own and the other straddling your hip to keep you still. He left bite marks on your neck, too rough and inexperienced to be interpreted as anything affectionate, though what he intended, blood quick to seep out of the wounds. He had slowly lapped it up, taking far too long for it to be seen as any sort of foreplay. A part of you wondered if he changed his mind and decided to cannibalize you instead.

He didn’t really care how strange his actions were, though. He had you right where he wanted you — where you should’ve been long ago. He moved like he was following a script; his long, black hair draped down as he went in for more “love bites”. His face was expressionless as always, cementing just how empty this relationship was. How did he develop such a twisted sense of love?

You question why he even bothered preparing you for this, though you appreciated it for once, as he took the time to organize a five day vacation with you – or rather order the butlers to organize it. What was the point? Everything was lifeless and awkward, just like back at the estate. Was this the only sense of normality he was willing to give you?

Your mind recalls when it was first announced to you, it was through your appointed butler, Shiori. Shiori was around the same age as you, chosen deliberately to increase your chances of opening up to her. He gave her the task, having her inquire about your likes and dislikes, favorite hobbies, movies, fashion taste and more just so he could surprise you with it later. You assumed he’s either too awkward or doesn’t care enough to learn about your interests directly from your own mouth.

Sitting at a white desk in your prison of a master bedroom, you assembled a DIY house kit. It was a little greenhouse, the tediousness of it giving you something to do while you tried to maintain your sanity. The room was windowless, the walls soundproof, and there was only one door, a titanium maximum security door that could only be opened with his permission. A security camera with a speaker loomed above you, seemingly always pointing directly at you.

You try not to think about how many times he’s watched you through that camera.

The distant sound of one of the security gates opening catches your ears. Someone’s coming.

You set the tweezers down, heart quickening as you continue listening. It doesn’t take long for the door to be unlocked, the multiple clicks ringing throughout the silent room. Audible footsteps could be heard, causing you to relax a little as that was your indication it wasn’t him. You turn as Shiori emerges, swiftly locking the door behind her and standing with her white gloved fingers interlaced neatly in front of her. She smiles at you and you return a half hearted one.

“Good evening, Master (Name).” she bows her head with formality, her short brown and blonde hair briefly falling over her face. She straightens up again and quickly fixes her hair. “The Master has a message for you. You are to freshen up and dress yourself, you will be escorted outside shortly.”

Your interest immediately piqued. You had only been outside of this room once since you got here – when you attempted your first escape. It was during a time when you had a different assigned butler named Junpei. Junpei had fallen for you in their short time taking care of you, bonding with you in ways no other butler would ever be able to. They were genuine, they actually cared about you and your well-being rather than what their employer had tasked them with. There were no cameras in the room at the time so the two of you made plans to escape whenever they visited under the guise of wanting to keep you company. Unfortunately for you, your captor had already planned for something like this, though he didn’t think anyone had the gall to actually up and do it. Both your and Junpei’s heart dropped to your feet when you saw him standing menacingly outside the first security gate. He was silent, but his bloodthirsty aura spoke for him. You soon found out what it sounds like to physically rip someone apart with bare hands. You actually thought you'd die that night as you found yourself unable to breathe or even think amidst his extreme, malicious aura, eyes widening further when he questions if you truly loved Junpei. You never want to see him like that ever again.

You were let off with a broken ankle and no one spoke of the incident again.

Shiori could see your confusion mixed with awe. “That is all I can tell you, Master (Name). It would be best for you to begin preparing yourself now.”

You slowly stood up, looking at your project for a moment as you pondered what he may have been planning. This was strange. He definitely wasn’t rewarding you for good behavior. You’ve already tried that route of buttering him up in hopes he’d let his guard down; he, in fact, did not and you were punished for dishonesty. How would he know what true love was anyway?

You make your way to the large, luxury bathroom, turning on the warm water and letting the shower run for a bit. You hear Shiori’s footsteps through the door, assuming she’s going through your wardrobe and picking your outfit at his request. You hate him.

You slowly stepped into the tub, the warm water embracing you like a comforting hug. Hot showers restored a bit of your sanity. You liked to stand there and allow the water to splash onto you, imagining you were anywhere but in this hellhole. Shiori, however, encourages you to pick up your speed, well aware of your tendency to reminisce in the shower for far too long. You sigh, stepping out of the tub and finishing your routine. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror, not wanting to see what months of stress had done to your features. You threw on a fluffy robe before leaving the bathroom. There was an outfit sprawled out on the bed, one you knew he really liked on you though he’s never admitted it, only staring longer than he should.

“Is this some kind of special event?” You ask sarcastically.

It’s a rhetorical question, but Shiori humors you regardless.

“The Master is in a good mood today.” she smiles gently, her voice somewhat monotone.

She reminded you of him in a way. Why did she even choose to work here? You stare at the outfit for a moment, reluctant to even touch it. Shiori notices your uneasiness, fully understanding your anxiety but feigning ignorance nonetheless. “Is something the matter, Master (Name)?”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Your anxiety continues to build. Everything in your strange, unstable relationship with him has been purely transactional. Want dessert? Speak kindly to him. Want a new video game to play? Butter him up but be careful not to overdo it, there’s only so much dishonesty he could allow. Want the privilege of having a full belly for the next three days? Behave. Do everything he says without question, regardless if you have to swallow your pride. So despite all of this, why was he suddenly treating you so graciously? Allowing you to leave your prison cell masterfully decorated to resemble a bedroom belonging to a ten million dollar mansion?

Shiori chuckles a bit. You’re aware of how disingenuous it sounds, but you don’t comment on it. “You shouldn’t worry yourself, Master (Name). The Master has been planning this for a while now, I’m sure you will enjoy yourself.”

Great, now you’re worried Shiori has said too much. You’re no stranger to how strict the Zoldyck family is with their servants, how strict he must be with Shiori. You think of what happened to Junpei again, of the desperate pleas that fell upon deaf ears as he continued to mutilate them, how his expression seemed more uncanny than usual.

Shivering at the thought of it, you drop the topic, not wanting to continue to allow her to dig her own grave but grateful for the hints. You remove your robe, ignoring Shiori’s presence as you’ve changed in front of her countless times, and put on the outfit along with your assigned shoes.

Shiori confirms that you’re ready before the two of you move to stand in front of the large security door. To say you were apprehensive was an understatement. Perhaps this was your chance to finally escape? No, that would be stupid. Obviously he’d already accounted for that, most likely had medical professionals on standby in case he needed to break your ankle again. Maybe he’d break both of them this time or even saw your legs off. You wouldn’t put it past him.

The multiple clicks of the locks could be heard again before the door was pulled open, multiple butlers on the other side. Shiori steps out and you’re hesitant to follow, not wanting to give away how eager and ready to bolt you were. Not like you could anyway, not with five highly skilled butlers watching your every move.

Not a word was spoken as they escorted you through the two security gates, your eyes stinging when sunlight poured over you.

You’re outside.

You’re actually outside.

You would scream and cry if the situation was different, falling to your knees and feeling the grass on your hands in your frenzied state.

You look around, taking a mental note of every little thing. You could see the Zoldyck’s mansion in the distance, far away from your separate living structure. Good.

“Eyes forward, (Name).”

The sudden order breaks you out of your thoughts, your head whips forward while your eyes move to look at the source of the voice. It was a taller, older lady with pink, pigtail type hair. She must’ve been serving the Zoldycks for a long time. She’s silent, giving you a stern look before turning forward again. You fight the urge to look around, to run even, as you’re led through the forest that surrounds the estate.

“Where are we going?” you couldn’t help but ask. Your voice is somewhat soft and timid, but it’s clear they all heard you.

“It’s just up ahead, Master (Name).” Shiori answers, her hands now folded behind her.

You’re taking in as much information as you can without actually looking around, taking note of the distance between the Butler’s Quarters and your prison cell. Approximately one hundred fifty seven steps, you’ve been counting. An additional two hundred seventy four steps from the Butler’s Quarters to the front gate. Would you even remember this information?

One of the butlers effortlessly pushes open the giant front gate, the feat reminding you just how weak you truly are. Those gates weigh four tons and the bigger gates above it are many times heavier.

You can’t even begin to describe what you were feeling. A part of you fully believed he had come to his senses and was releasing you like some wild animal, throwing you off of the property and leaving you to fend for yourself. Surely it would be better than going back to that room.

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. Instead of throwing you out and shutting the gate behind them, the butlers led you to a black Mercedes truck sitting in wait.

Your head hurts. You feel like you’re going to throw up. Typical reaction when you know he’s near. You could just die right now. You knew you were bound to see him again, but that doesn’t repress the dread it fills you with.

He’s staring at you through the tinted windows, you can’t see him — you just know it. You don’t want to see him, you haven't had enough time to mentally prepare; you’ll never have enough time to mentally prepare. Shiori steps ahead of you, opening the passage to hell as the Devil himself sits patiently, his black, empty eyes gazing upon you.

You nearly vomit.

You swallow hard, holding your breath in an attempt to mellow out your facial features as you climb into the backseat. You didn’t acknowledge him yet, slowly buckling your seatbelt and staring at Shiori with widened eyes as she shuts the door, sealing you inside with that monster.

It’s suffocating.

Overwhelming.

You forgot to breathe.

Sucking in sharp breaths, you shut your eyes tightly. The silence is deafening. He’s waiting on you. For once.

“H-hello… Illumi.” saying his name was the equivalent of swallowing a cup of hydrochloric acid. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, pains your throat, your stomach, everything.

Illumi hums in approval. “Hm. I’m thankful you hadn’t forgotten your manners, (Name). I thought I’d have to discipline you sooner than I anticipated.” you hear him shift, surely turning to fully face you. “I won’t need to, right?” his monotone voice does your ears a disservice despite its smoothness.

“No.” you quickly wipe your eyes, knowing how much he hates seeing your tears.

You finally force yourself to look up at him, his piercing, cat-like eyes filling you with the unwavering desire to do something drastic. Maybe throw yourself out of the car when it’s moving and hope it runs you over, killing you in the process.

You look away just as quickly, tightly gripping your pants to quell the need to gouge your eyes out. At least you wouldn’t have to look at him then. He shifts again, facing forward but not looking away from you. “I’ll assume you’re overwhelmed. You’ve missed me so much you don’t know how to convey it.”

“I didn’t miss you. I actually had hoped you died and I’d never have to see you again.” is what you would say if you were fond of getting the life strangled out of you. Instead, you stay silent, staring at your hands intertwined on your lap.

“What have you been getting up to?”

Shouldn’t he already know? Shiori is his human security camera plus the actual security camera he has in your enclosure. What are you even supposed to say to this? You’ve been rotting in bed and crying your eyes out because you can’t leave? You had thought of creative ways to end your own life? He’d have you restrained to your bed for all eternity if you mentioned that last one.

“Nothing of interest.” is all you say.

“Tell me. I want to hear it.”

Bastard’s trying to force conversation.

“I’m working on that greenhouse project Shiori had given me-”

“I had given you.” he corrects. Silence falls over the two of you as the car finally begins to drive off.

Illumi was always out on missions or some other job, how were you supposed to know it was a gift from him? You wouldn’t have touched it otherwise, preferring to rot in bed than encourage him in the slightest. You’re actually thankful for his extended time spent away doing fuck all, not seeing yourself surviving if you had to physically endure him day and night constantly. Hell, you were barely keeping your composure just sitting next to him and you’d only seen him for two minutes.

“Thank you.” not knowing what else to say, you simply thank him, hoping he’d be satisfied with just that and leave you alone.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’ve been doing?”

Of course he doesn’t.

“Killing people?” you state the obvious, hoping he wouldn’t interpret that as you trying to be smart. Assassinating people is his job, it only makes sense to assume that’s what he’s been doing. You wish he’d kill you and get it over with.

“Naturally. Take a better guess.” what the hell does he want from you? You don’t know anything significant about him to be able to give a good guess. You’re clearly stunted, your lack of a response giving it away. He narrows his eyes slightly, reaching out which causes you to flinch. He retracts his hand momentarily upon seeing your reaction before going in again slowly, softly cupping your chin and guiding your head to look at him. “Do you assume I don’t think about you?”

What? He must be fucking with you.

Illumi brings forth his other hand just as slowly, now gently cupping your face with both. You were always shocked by how smooth and soft his hands were. They’re cold though.

“Answer me.”

His owlish eyes were staring directly into your soul, almost hypnotizing you. You shift your head and look away. If you were as bold as you used to be, you would’ve swung on him by now, turning his gentle hands cupping your face into violent claws gripping your throat. It took many lessons for you to learn that you simply could not fight him.

He backs down and lets go of you when you fail to answer, pulling his hands into his lap again. He was aware of your fear, he found twisted comfort in it, believing it would keep you glued to his side. You glance in his general direction but not at his face. He was wearing that purple outfit again and his long, black hair was as silky as ever.

“Aren’t you curious as to where we’re going?”

He sure was talkative today; Shiori did mention he was in a good mood. He’s usually very blank, even around you, his supposed partner. It forced you to learn to read his emotions using his micro expressions, tone, silent indicators, and of course aura. Aura was mainly reserved for more intense emotions, ones you should avoid inducing at all costs.

You were always on edge whenever you were around him, and this unusual shift in attitude didn’t help.

“So where are we going?” you finally ask.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Motherfucker.

You don’t respond, looking away from him in favor of staring out of the window. You were seated awkwardly, not fully allowing yourself to relax, not that you could in the presence of Illumi. You could almost drown him out completely if it weren’t for his uncanny staring, something you still couldn’t get used to. He barely blinks; it reminds you of some sort of Creepypasta.

“Talk to me.”

It was an order.

“I don’t know what to say to you.” your voice was quiet. You’re really not in the mood to speak right now, especially not to him. This wouldn’t do, however, as Illumi was determined — something that proves to never end well for you.

“You can talk about anything you want.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“(Name),” it was a warning, a hint of irritation laced his otherwise monotone voice. “Do you really not have anything to talk about… or do you just not want to?”

You didn’t want to clearly, but you also didn’t want to taste his wrath.

“Could you tell me about your day?” you chose to interview him instead, hoping that if you got him to talk in length, you wouldn’t have to. He brings his hand up to his chin as if he was thinking, his eyes never leaving you. You felt like he was robbing you of your life energy just by looking at you.

“My day?” he repeated the question, falling silent for a few moments before speaking once more. “If I told you, that would ruin the surprise.”

You reply with a mere “oh” before looking out of the window once again.

“(Name).”

He’s never been this persistent for your attention before. All the times he’s returned home and “spent time” with you mainly consisted of the two of you sitting in silence while he watched you do nothing; an occasional short and awkward conversation. It felt more like he was being forced to interact with you rather than wanting to on his own volition, despite him being the one keeping you there.

“I’m sorry, Illumi.”

You only said his name when you were trying to soothe him, hoping to avoid consequence. He knew that, but he wouldn’t admit that it indeed worked. The slight drooping of his shoulders betrayed him every time, however.

He doesn’t accept nor reject your insincere apology, choosing to silently savor your calling of his name. You will never understand him.

“I answered you, now it’s your turn to talk. Tell me about your home life.”

This question immediately raised flags. He’s never asked you something like this, let alone allow you to cry about it. You look at him, eyes slightly widen for a brief moment. Was he only bringing this up to bait you into talking? “Don’t you already know everything about me?”

He indeed did. He made it known to you that he’d stalked you for five months before making his move, talking about it as if he was stating what he had for lunch. He had no sense of morality, no awareness as to how his extreme actions affected others. He’s insane.

You’ve noticed a slight change in his stare. You’re pissing him off.

“I want you to tell me.”

“Uh,” you quickly scrambled for things to say, “I had my own house and car as well as a really good high paying job.” you used “had” for a reason. You were positive that all your assets were repossessed when search parties couldn’t find you and weeks were flying by without a single clue regarding your whereabouts. Illumi keeps staring, quietly pressing you to continue.

“I had a really sweet dog.” you used “had” again. You don’t recall all the details of that night, only that you had gotten a rude shock when you woke up to a strange man in your bedroom. Surely you would have woken up sooner if you heard something happen, but you didn’t. You decided to ask what you were always afraid to ask before, taking advantage of this moment to finally get closure. “Are… are they okay? My dog?”

Your hesitation was obvious. Nothing good ever happened whenever you brought up members of what he refers to as “your past life.” you were positive he intended for you to talk about things you did alone rather than actual people or living beings you connected with. They didn’t exist anymore, according to him. They don’t matter. Don’t talk about them.

“Your dog is dead.”

You’d been preparing for this moment for months now, but the bluntness of his answer still hit you like a truck. “H-huh?”

“Your dog is dead.” he repeated again with no sense of remorse. ”I didn’t want to risk it alerting you to my presence, so I killed it.”

Something felt off that night, your dog was more anxious than usual, pacing back and forth and staring out certain windows. They even refused to go outside when you tried to let them out, their tail tucked between their legs and fur standing on edge. You should’ve known. You should’ve taken them and ran.

It was even worse that you also ignored all those strange people you had met that week. They all had a gold piercing sticking out of some part of their head, almost like a needle. Their words were slurred and their movements puppet-like as they asked you unsettling questions. “Do you have a romantic interest?” as well as “Do you have any exes?” and “Do you live alone?”

That should’ve been your sign to get the hell out of there.

Illumi tilts his head and watches you attempt to bottle your emotions. Your hands gripping the fabric of your pants tightly as you bit your lip, your heart was hurting. You’d already mourned for your dear pet, assuming that killer had taken their life when he broke into your house, but still having slight hope that he had spared them.

Why had he even bothered to answer your question let alone allow you to ask it?

He doesn’t initiate anymore conversation for the rest of the car ride, thankfully, allowing you to simmer in your emotions. That doesn’t mean he averts his attention from you, though.

The car finally pulls into a parking lot belonging to a grand, luxurious hotel. You’re as confused as you are shocked. The parking lot is empty aside from several black Mercedes trucks holding Zoldyck butlers and presumably cars belonging to the hotel’s employees. It’s a normal working day and this is a well known, upscale hotel, so why was it so empty?

Illumi looks away from you for the first time since you’ve entered the car, pulling the door’s handle and exiting the vehicle. You didn’t move, you’re too afraid to, you didn’t want to make the wrong move.

Shiori approaches your side of the truck, but Illumi steps in front of her, opening the door for you and holding out his hand. You slowly unbuckled your seatbelt and attempted to slide past him, he only grabbed you and placed you back into the car before extending his hand again, silently commanding you to take it. He took note of your blatant disobedience, but said nothing, deciding against giving you a much desired punishment. He took what he considered to be a softer approach, giving you a chance to correct your mistakes.

Feeling as though he’s one inconvenience away from breaking you, you hesitantly take his hand. His grip was firm, his assistance useless. He ignored your attempt at pulling your hand free the second your foot touched the ground, choosing to let go only after both feet were firmly planted.

Illumi doesn’t explain the situation as he begins walking with you in tow, Shiori and some other butlers trailing behind the both of you. Butlers were all over the place actually, standing guard as if this was a maximum security prison rather than a hotel. You feel like they’re all watching you, fully expecting you to try something in vain. You don’t blame them, if you had super speed, you would’ve run off by now.

The hotel was completely vacant of people, aside from more butlers and concerned hotel employees. As you enter the lobby, your eyes lingered on the receptionist, praying they had seen your missing person’s report months earlier; if it had even been reported as such. They only look down, guilt seemingly spread across their face. Were they threatened or perhaps even paid off to stay silent?

Who knows.

The silence was louder than the shuffling of the butlers’ footsteps or the tune of the faint jazz music coming from the ballroom. A butler approaches Illumi and informs him that all preparations were ready, earning them a nod in response. You silently follow as the both of you are led away, the uneasiness on your face evident to anyone who dared to look at it.

The butler soon stops in front of a particular door far at the end of a long hallway. The space felt liminal, you’d almost think you’d gotten sucked into a different reality if the two people next to you weren’t present. The butler bows slightly before leaving you and Illumi alone. He looked at you, like he was trying to read your expression, before twisting the door’s handle and revealing the room’s interior.

He must’ve paid a fortune. The room was large, decorated with luscious furniture you couldn’t even begin to think about affording. There was a king size bed in the middle of the room, a flatscreen TV almost as wide as the bed propped on the wall in front of it, a glass sliding door leading to a balcony on the far right, and a lounge chair in the corner to say the least.

You awkwardly step into the room, hugging yourself as you attempt to make sense of the situation; taking note of the clicking of the door’s lock.

“Well, here we are.”

His lack of enthusiasm spoiled the mood. Not that the mood was bright anyway.

“So… what’s the point of this?” your voice was a bit low and shy. He didn’t like it, he’d have to chip away at that. He had bigger things to be upset over, however, as you appear, or choose to pretend, to not understand what’s going on. His intentions should’ve been obvious by now. He doesn’t respond right away, causing you to ask yet another ignorant question. “Are we attending some kind of special event?”

“No.” his answer was short, intentionally vague to encourage you to figure it out yourself. Illumi casually moves about the room while you continue to stand in the same spot, presumably checking for himself to make sure that everything was in place. You were on edge, that much was apparent as he stopped a few feet in front of you. “Do you like the room?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I will be back.”

You feel a slight wind as he walks past you, a little too close considering the amount of space around you. You immediately relax once he’s gone, taking a few deep breaths as you cautiously inspect the room. The thought of trying the handle to see if he’d locked it behind him doesn’t even cross your mind, the odds were against you and you knew that. Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try the balcony door, however.

It was locked, just as you’d guessed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed and resting your head in your hands, you think in vain of a possible escape. Maybe when he leaves you alone again, you could use something to break the glass then use the bed sheets to craft a makeshift rope? The problem with that is the bedsheets wouldn’t serve you as you were several stories off the ground. Your plan didn’t even account for what you’d do if you even reached the ground as you were sure Zoldyck butlers surrounded the premises.

You decided it was best to just roll with it, see where this was going. Maybe you could exploit him as he does seem to be more lenient with you.

The door clicks and it opens, Illumi standing in the doorway looking in at you, noticing how much more relaxed you appeared to be in his absence. He motions for you to follow and you do so without fuss.

Following him down the long hallway felt surreal, you couldn’t hear anything aside from your own footsteps as his were completely silent; traits of an elite assassin. You watch as his long, black hair swayed behind him, almost glaring as you study his robotic movements. He doesn’t feel real.

The two of you entered the hotel’s restaurant, it was just as desolate of other patrons as the rest of the place. You were led to a lone, two person table placed next to the glass wall, the table’s decorations stood out amongst the others as its setting included rose petals and candles.

Corny. You don’t like this.

You take your seat, now being forced to fully face him for who knows how long. You turn your head to the right, looking out of the window. Your breath hitches as you notice people in the far distance. People. Actual people clueless as to what’s happening to you right now. You give Illumi a side stare, his blank yet judgemental one challenging yours.

“Where is everyone?” you couldn’t help but ask despite knowing it was a question he did not want to hear.

“They aren’t important.”

Why should they matter? They’d only interfere and distract you from what’s important: him. You should only be focused on him and his efforts to please you.

“So what exactly is this?”

Your inability, or unwillingness, to comprehend the situation was beginning to annoy him. Wasn’t it clear? Did the dim lighting and candles not give it away? The rose petals on the table? The romantic — or what he deemed to be romantic — atmosphere?

“It’s a romantic dinner.”

He didn’t offer any further details, upset he had to state that it was a date rather than let his efforts speak for him. You were sitting across from him, the two of you were almost completely alone. This was a date.

“All of a sudden, though? You never let me leave that room before.”

“Why does it matter?” his tone was still flat.

Illumi couldn’t believe you’d question his acts of kindness. He was doing it because he wanted to treat you for once, deciding to take you somewhere appropriate and fitting to your taste.

“I’m just trying to understand you.” you state, holding your hands together on the table as a self soothing mechanism.

“You don’t need to understand me.” his voice hinted at the tiniest bit of annoyance. He had no need to explain his actions, he had his reasons and that’s all you needed to know. “Just enjoy the dinner.”

You say nothing as you turn your attention to the only other people present in the room: the butlers standing at the exits and the chefs working in the kitchen. None of them looked at you, their attention focused on anything but.

“Don’t stare at them. The butlers are simply here to protect you.” his monotone voice made his last sentence sound oddly intimidating.

You fight the urge to question if it was him they would be protecting you from in the case that you anger him.

“It feels like the rapture has happened and we’re the only ones left.” you pick up one of the rose petals, inspecting it as an excuse to avoid his gaze.

“That would be ideal.”

“Is something bad going to happen to me?” your forward question caused his thin eyebrows to raise slightly.

“Not if you behave. I just want you to enjoy this date.” his tone was a bit softer now, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t, or forced to be, close to him. He didn’t like your anxiousness, worried it would ruin his meticulous yet futile plans to make amends with you.

You were still on edge as the butlers served a lavish meal to the both of you, your facial features failing to soften as you inspected the food. He was fully aware of just how much damage he’d done to you and he wasn’t going to justify his behavior, only wanting to make you feel better.

It was hard for him to stay silent, however, as you were continuing to look around and stare at the butlers.

“Is the sight of them bothering you?” the sound of his voice catching your attention. “I could have them move out of view if that would ease your nerves.”

He doesn’t get it. Maybe he pretends not to, choosing to ignore your uncomfortableness with him in favor of deluding himself.

“It’s not that, it’s just…”

Your words couldn’t come out, you didn’t know what to say. Ask him to get rid of all the unnecessary escorts and open the hotel to the public again as this felt more like a standoff than a romantic dinner? You hated the silence between you, not that you wanted to speak to Illumi, you wanted to hear the chatter of other diners over the classy jazz music, the clinking of utensils as they enjoyed their meal.

“Oh?” he slowly tilted his head, his uncanny expression observing your every move and sound. It’s as if he was daring you to ruin it all with some sort of stupid comment; it’d give him a reason to drag you back to the estate and lock you away for good.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” you manage to finally say. It just wasn’t worth it.

He continues staring, features unmoving as you assume he’s thinking of various ways to brutally murder you. He only straightens himself.

“I see.”

You’re internally thankful he dropped it, your shoulders drooping in relief as you watch him continue to eat unnaturally fast, a strange habit of his. When was the last time he’s blinked? You can’t stand him.

Illumi obviously didn’t believe that you had nothing to share. He knew you well enough to guess that whatever you were about to say would’ve angered him, so you kept quiet in order to avoid problems. Good, you were learning.

Silence fell over the two of you, increasing the tension in the air. He’d already finished eating, choosing to gaze at you rather than anything else. He was making you lose your appetite, but you somehow managed to finish your meal.

“Would you like dessert?” Illumi inquired, barely giving you enough time to chew and swallow your last bite before asking.

“No thanks.” you don’t explain why. The truth was that you didn’t want to sit in front of him any longer, you were tired of his eyes boring into you.

“Are you sure?” he tilted his head again, pressuring you for a different answer.

“I’m sure.”

You wouldn’t budge, much to his dismay. You had unknowingly foiled his plans to spoon feed you a strawberry sundae.

“Very well.” he doesn’t push any further, only slowly nodding. “Did you enjoy the food?”

“Yummy.”

Illumi didn’t immediately react to your childish response, only straightening himself after a few moments. He had made sure this dinner would be perfect, planning everything to the last detail, and you’ve shown your gratitude by looking at everything other than him and rating his endeavor with a one word answer.

He remained still for a few more moments before deciding to ignore your strange behavior once again. He stood up from his seat, looking away from you for the first time since he’s sat down.

“Let’s go.”

You follow him as commanded, taking clear note of his slight annoyance. He led you to the hotel’s theater, the sound of your footsteps slightly echoing in the large, spacious room. He picks two spots in the center and takes a seat, you follow suit.

Choosing to stay silent, you don’t ask any questions about what movie the two of you were seeing, only staring forward as the lights turn off and the showing begins. Illumi had carefully selected this movie for you. It was lighthearted and fun, chosen specifically to improve your mood. The date wasn’t meeting his expectations, as you weren’t quite throwing yourself at him, but he was determined to change that.

You tried your best to ignore his constant glancing in your direction for the entirety of the film. It was as if he was looking for something, for reassurance to soothe his ever growing concerns. He didn’t like your indifference, he didn’t like that he couldn’t tell how you were feeling in detail about his attempts at courtship.

The movie was good, you liked it. Illumi was already staring at you by the time you faced him, the credits rolling on the screen. It was subtle but he still looked upset, the image of you leaning away from him as if you were trying to put as much space as possible between the two of you was still fresh in his mind.

He would break that physical barrier, desensitize you to his presence.

As you silently walk back to the suite, Illumi suddenly grabs your hand. Your heart jumps into your throat, fully expecting him to crush it as punishment for upsetting him. He stops walking and stares at you when you impulsively try to pull away, not saying a word as he gives you a second to collect yourself.

You were ruining his passionate act of love. He knew he wasn’t the most expressive, as he was raised to mask his emotions, but his straightforwardness made up for that. You should be happy. This is an act of love. He had done his research — asking his father — and knew what he needed to do in order to please you. He won’t let you spoil it.

Eventually you somewhat simmer down, still tense in his firm hold. He continues walking, slower this time. He wasn’t even holding your hand correctly as yours was balled into a fist. He didn’t care though, as long as he was holding it.

The night hadn’t gone his way but he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve, optimistic that tomorrow would be better. Illumi would not put up with failure.

You were in for a ride.

You reach and enter the suite once again, Illumi locking the door behind him. He lets out a sigh and begins to settle down, having no issue kicking his shoes off and changing clothes right in front of you. You, however, move to sit stationary on the lounge chair, staring at the ground to avoid any awkward interactions with your naked “husband”.

You had no desirable reaction to anything he did, which he found disheartening. You finally look up when he’s fully clothed, watching as he sits on the edge of the bed. He decided to risk it, to ask about your experience. He figured a blunt and bold answer would be significantly better than overthinking and assuming the worst. “Did you enjoy anything I did today?”

Truth be told, you did. You just didn’t like him. Had anyone more deserving taken the time to do this for you, you’d throw yourself all over them.

“It was the typical Illumi experience.”

You regretted saying that before it even left your mouth. “The typical Illumi experience” was not a compliment, it was a brutal insult disguised with subtlety. You had just compared his month’s worth of intensive planning and preparing to a regular day being around him back at Kukuroo Mountain.

Something you didn’t like flashed in his eyes, your fingers nervously grip your pants yet again. What you’d just said was so dismissive, condescending, everything he didn’t want to hear. He turns away from you, looking out of the glass balcony door as he takes several slow and deep breaths. He was collecting himself.

He reasoned in his mind, internally arguing that this was his chance to dissect your feelings and see how he could improve. He turns toward you, expression unreadable. “Elaborate.”

“Am I allowed to express myself?” you ask, your question was legitimately innocent. However, you were saying all the wrong things at the wrong time.

“You were always allowed to express yourself, you just seem to have a habit of doing it disrespectfully.”

“I’m sorry.” you lower your gaze, apology insincere.

You don’t know why he’s changed. You can tell that he’s being softer with you. If you said something like that a few months ago, you’d be unable to speak for the next two weeks.

“Do you harbor resentment towards me?”

That was a rhetorical question. He didn’t want an answer; an answer other than a loud, confident “no” anyways.

You stay silent, continuing to stare at the ground. He didn’t acknowledge that your silence was your way of saying yes.

“Are we going back tomorrow?” you ask, changing the subject in order to lessen the heavy atmosphere.

“Back to Kukuroo Mountain?”

“Yes.”

“No.” Illumi doesn’t provide further details. This trip won’t end unless it’s on a good note. “You should get changed.”

He stands up and rummages through the wardrobe, pulling out a silk pajama set. You slowly stand and retrieve it, making your way to the bathroom to change. He assumes you’re just being shy. You eventually come out, having put your dirty clothes into the hamper, before making your way to the lounge chair once again. The lights have been dimmed in your absence.

He was sitting up in bed, halfway under the blankets, staring at you expectantly. You didn’t want to come to terms with the reality that you had to sleep in the same bed as him; that fact wasn’t lost on him. It was obvious you were avoiding having to deal with the inevitable conclusion of the night by seeking comfort on the lounge chair. He wouldn’t allow you that comfort. “Come to bed.” his tone was flat, it was an order.

“I’m not tired yet-”

“Come to bed.” he wasn’t hearing your excuses, only repeating himself while patting the empty space next to him. You look at him with a saddened expression, silently pleading to be let off the hook; the issue is that he’s let you off the hook multiple times today already and he wasn’t planning on letting you rob him of this. “Do as I say.”

Sensing the impatience in his tone, you reluctantly head over to your side of the bed and slide under the blanket, making sure to curl up as close to the edge and as far from Illumi as possible. You face away from him, silently making it clear you weren’t interested in anything other than sleep. He doesn’t comment on this, choosing to stay silent as he thinks to himself. He wanted to hold you, but he knew not to push too far. At least not so soon.

He sighs, continuing to sit up in bed as he watches your sleeping figure. Tomorrow will be a better day, he’ll make sure of it.

#yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #hxh x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere scenarios

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luvt0kki · 9 months ago

Text

INTERLUDE | OPENING SEQUENCE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

This scene that locked me up The sequence that's like forever Stay for me, stay for me, stay for me I can't get used to it, used to it, used to it

🎧: Opening Sequence - TXT

previous | INTERLUDE | next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader (san x reader)

w.c : 10k ( im sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , bittersweet, angst, MC's background is inspired by Black Widow's background with the Red Room, reader is called sweet heart/baby, hints of abuse/manipulation, mc’s past, mention of their training days, injuries, scars, loss of virginity, first time, very very very longgggggg chapter I’m sorry

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : surprise? SPECIAL CHAPTER!!!! I hope you guys like this one. I didn’t initially plan to write this but after posting chapter 005 I wanted to write something different or something else and this came about. I hope you guys like. Thank you for being so patient with me 🥺💗

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

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#tokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut #Choi San smut

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hoonieyun · 11 days ago

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collecting tears - heeseung

jar of tears that were shed for heeseung

lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, situationship, unrequited love

warnings: kissing, suggestive, profanity, mentions of a dead parent, overall 18+

summary: your relationship with heeseung, if you could even call it that, has lasted for almost 3 years. 3 years you were at his beck and call and you were finally done. having convinced yourself that you didn't want to continue what you had with him even if you didn't necessarily believe that. to him it was casual but to you it meant everything.

We were goin' right, then you took a left Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess Guess I'll waste another year on wonderin' if If that was casual, then I'm an idiot sabrina carpenter - sharpest tool word count: 1401

Had it been any other person, you wouldn’t have stayed for so long, but something about Lee Heeseung just pulled you in.

Three years of wasted time and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you were slowly chipping away at the hard exterior of Heeseung you were always met with, “You know I’m just not ready for something serious right now.” whenever you would bring up how you’d wish he would hold you as his girlfriend and not the girl that was just filling the empty space in his bed.

“Hey, are you still up, love?” the text reads as your phone shines in your face. The clock says 2AM but to you it was time to crawl into his bed and to Heeseung it was time to call for someone to take up the empty space between his arms when he sleeps. You don’t even give yourself the time to try and convince yourself that you shouldn’t go before you’re behind the wheel of your car, pulling into Heeseung’s parking lot. The walk from your car to his apartment felt long, your heart drumming inside of your chest and with every step you took it pounded louder and louder as you arrived at his door. The pounding of your heart suddenly silences as you knock on the door and it almost instantly swings open; revealing a casual but handsome looking Heeseung.

He was standing in his doorway, sweatpants hanging loose around his waist and his toned body being hugged by the black compression shirt he wore. A sight you saw quite often, his usual attire when you would come over and although simple, it definitely had an effect on you. Your mind instantly clearing of any worries or hesitation when you seem.

“Hey…” Heeseung says and that simple three letter word held so much weight.

It wasn’t just “Hey” it was:

“I’m glad you’re finally here.” or…

“I’ve been waiting for you.” and…

“I need you in my arms right now.”

but it was never:

“Be mine.” or “I’m yours.”

Heeseung takes your hand in his, guiding you to his bedroom but not before connecting your lips, mindlessly moving against one another as you kick his door closed and turn the lock. Navigating your way to his room with no worry because the two of you had memorized the path to his bedroom and you could get there with your eyes. Much like now, eyes closed as your lips connected.

Past the dining room where his leftover takeout sat, cold.

Through the hallway with several picture frames hung on the wall of his loved ones, none of which featured you.

And into the doorframe of his bedroom, landing on his plush bed as you pull away from him to catch your breath. Heeseung’s eyes are dark and low as he watches you, your chest slowly rising as you recall all of the other times you were in this situation.

When Heeseung took you to his older brother’s birthday, ending the night in his bed.

When Heeseung took you to the theme park because you said you’d never been before, ending the night in his bed.

When Heeseung asked you to temporarily move in while you were still looking for a new place to live after college, ending every night in his bed until you found a place.

Right now, after you spent the whole day thinking of Heeseung, ending the night in his bed.

Heeseung sets his hand over your neck, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek as he tries to read what you were thinking of through your eyes, “What’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” he asks. It was moments like this when he would speak to you in that way that just soothed your heart, he just had this way of speaking to you and telling you exactly what you needed… but not what you wanted.

You just shook your head in response and continued where you left off. Spending the night rolling around in his bed, sharing tender and notso tender moments, and making you forget all of the times you wished you hadn’t come over.

The sun rises in the east, the morning light shining through Heeseung’s bedroom window as your eyes flutter open, the soreness in your legs and back and marks on your neck serving as a reminder of the events of last night. You stretch the events of the night before away as you flip over to the middle of the bed, realizing that Heeseung’s presence was absent.

Finding your way to his dining room as you see he’s cooking something in the kitchen. The dull air in his apartment almost suffocates you as you approach him, his head slightly turning in your direction when he senses your presence. “Hey, I’m almost done with breakfast. Hope you’re cool with-” Heeseung begins but you interrupt him, knowing what he was already cooking up, “ramyeon?” you say, the two of you chuckling together as you finish his sentence for him.

“Am I that predictable?” he says with a laugh. “Mmm just a bit.” you say teasingly but you were only half joking. Knowing that you knew how the day after usually goes, you wake up in his bed alone, you find him making the two of you breakfast, and before the clock strikes noon you’re on your way back home with the weight of last night and every other night before that stacked onto your shoulders.

An endless cycle that has been going on for the last 3 years that you just couldn’t break.

“Y/N? You hungry?” Heeseung asks and you blink away your thoughts when you realize he’s calling out to you, already sitting at his dining table with two bowls and two sets of chopsticks laid next to him. Steam floating above the boiling pot of ramyeon.

“What are we?” you abruptly ask Heeseung, shutting his eyes with a sigh as he tries to gather his thoughts for a conversation he doesn’t necessarily want to have. “Really? This again, Y/N?” Heeseung asks, clearly annoyed by your question. “Why can’t you ever just leave it? Let us have what we have without putting a label on things?” Heeseung continues, each word creating a crack in your already brokenheart.

“And what exactly is that Heeseung? Hmm? What do we have?” you ask, emphasizing the word have like you were testing him because to you, you had something more than Heeseung would admit. He scoffs at your remark, not having an answer but he deflects, turning it back onto you. “See, this is why I can’t commit to you. You want so much out of me and I told you that I just wanted something casual!” Heeseung says, his voice getting louder when yours was barely above a whisper.

“So is that what this is… casual?” you ask and although he doesn’t give you a verbal response, his actions were enough as he averts his eyes away from your gaze, not wanting to make eye contact with you. “Right…” you say, retreating to his bedroom to grab the small amount of things you brought, planning to leave and not turn back.

“Where are you going?” Heeseung says, getting up from his seat at the dining table, the pot of ramyeon getting colder the longer this goes on. “Anywhere else but here.” you say, brushing past him as he tries to block you from leaving.

“None. NONE! Of this was ever casual and you know that.” you say as you stare blankly at his front door. Afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying but you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you slipped your shoes on. “We’ve met each other’s parents. I went to your brother’s birthday party, you bought my mom a birthday cake, I to- took you to my dad’s gravestone…” you say, your voice breaking at the last part of your sentence.

“If that was casual, then I’m an idiot.” you say, tears falling from your eyes as you hurriedly leave his apartment, leaving him stunned as he stood staring at his front door left ajar.

A choice you had to make even if you didn’t want to.

Telling yourself that you couldn’t keep doing this with Heeseung even if you never stopped wanting him.

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

#collecting tears #en-diaries #enhypen #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #enha #enhypen au #enhypen heeseung #enha heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen angst #enha x reader #enha imagines

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kiachiako · 2 years ago

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stars, moons, & other celestial bodies | j.jh

pairing | jaehyun x female!reader

synopsis | With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

content | brother!taeyong, retro-themed au, angst, fluff, coming of age, language warning, suggestive, mentions and consumption of alcohol/drugs

wc | 26.7k

song | delicate — taylor swift

a/n | for @hyuckmov and @rrxnjun, who kept me sane while writing this monster :D

...

The first week of summer before your freshman year of university is defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner; break has been this way since as long as you could remember. It's a familiar itinerary, one that plays back routinely every school break.

You’ve grown up without even realizing, your teenage days spent juggling academic work and getting into stupid situations with Mark and Chaewon trickling down to a close. This conclusion really hit you during an epiphany on a sweltering night after high school graduation.

It occurred in the midst of humid sepia air, the three of you still in your graduation caps and gowns as your bodies lay splayed across the asphalt leading down to your street. With the absence of cars coming down the wide road, it was perfectly rational to lay side by side in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The ground was simply the best place to ponder your thoughts and get lost in swirling memories now that university lay too close on the horizon; the sheer size of the sky seemed to mock your trio as you watched the clouds roll on by in their mismatched shapes and harrowing wisps.

A cigar — one comically too big for his face — hung between Mark’s fingers as he pushed his body to flop over your arm, the thing no doubt “borrowed” from the bottom of his father’s office drawer.

“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to see you bitches again,” he had sighed in pretend relief, blowing a tunnel of smoke into the side of your face as you pushed his warm skin off of yours. Chaewon snorted from beside you.

“Please, as if you’ll last a day without us at uni,” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling a face at Mark’s teasing words. “I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve saved your life over this past month alone.”

“Yeah?” Mark grinned, supporting his upper body with his forearms as he turned to look at her over your relaxed figure. “Enlighten me.” She subsequently raised her eyebrows at him.

“Might I remind you of the time you got stuck at the drive-through cinema at 2am because you had locked yourself out of your car? And guess whose asses had to haul yours back home two hours away,” Chaewon pointed an accusing finger at Mark, her tone joking as she glared at said boy. He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion, stopping him. “And. Let’s not forget last week,” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to recall which out of all the dumb decisions he had made was about to be relived, “when Kang Yujin pushed up on you during that one house party, you got a hard on from just that, and we had to cover for you-”

Mark shot up abruptly, leaning over you to slap a hand over Chaewon’s mouth before rushing to defend himself.

“But she was so hot, Chae, you wouldn’t understand,” he whined at her, frowning at you to do something and sympathize with him. It was expected by now, the regular petty and half-assed arguments making your friendship that much stronger.

As they continued bickering back and forth, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift away back into the clouds, the setting sun soaking them with a blazing, burnt umber. You would be going to college soon, and that meant no Mark, no Chaewon, and no parents to keep you sane. It was strange to imagine not spending every waking moment with your two best friends, and even stranger to think that going to different schools would mean no more daily drama fill-ins and midnight convenience store runs.

But after all, you had done it once, and you hoped you could do it again.

When your older brother Taeyong left for university a few years ago, it had practically shattered you. Sure, you found him incredibly annoying at times (still do) and had a constant vendetta against the man, but when the moment came to hug him goodbye, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. He had shown you the ins and outs of adolescence and given you the attention you craved when your parents couldn’t. He taught you how to take care of yourself, how to look in the mirror and recognize your worth, how to know your own limits, and how to realize that high school boys weren’t shit. He was always the first to get to the hospital when you had gotten hurt at school, and most important of all, he was with you throughout the highs and lows growing up.

If Taeyong leaving home had taught you anything, it was that time moves too fast — and it’ll only move faster as you get older. You know that your life is about to enter Round 2, and this time without anyone to hold your hand as you enter an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

But it’s not over just yet.

Your best friends would never let that happen, and you recognize this now as your golden trio sits in your town’s local record shop, with ceiling fans whirring above you as the cool storefront protects you from the blazing summer heat.

It’s after-hours but the sun still burns bright into the late afternoon. You recline in the cashier chair as Chaewon flips the 'open' sign closed and makes her way back to you and Mark, the latter sitting against the wall with a variety of bottles surrounding him on the checkered floor.

He’s in an odd position, and you just know his mother would flip if she saw him with this much alcohol on a wednesday afternoon (at least it’s not a Sunday after mass, but she definitely doesn’t need to know that he’s been there, done that already). Mark tests out new concoctions every week, using the record store as his work space; the owner’s never in town and barely any customers come in to buy records these days, so there’s no one to stop him. Chaewon raises her eyebrows as she eyes the newest addition to his special menu.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” you say as he swirls the amber liquid around in a clean whisky bottle. Mark whistles at his creation, impressed, before holding it up to you and shaking it tauntingly. It smells slightly floral, the sharp flavors of absinthe and cognac making your nose scrunch.

“You’re just mad that your mixes don’t hit as hard as mine, baby.” With another swirl, he lifts the drink up to his mouth to taste. “And because you so nicely asked,” Mark smirks at you, “it’s Peychaud’s Bitters, cognac, syrup, and anise, and I give you my permission to borrow the recipe to impress your future uni friends. You’re welcome.” You shove Mark’s shoulder with your palm as he laughs at your baffled expression, body shaking with amusement while he sips away at his newest pride.

It’s only when Chaewon reaches over to steal the bottle away from him that your phone starts ringing, startling all three of you as the name of your older brother flashes across the screen. Mark looks at you inquisitively, but you just shrug in response and press the receive button.

“Tae?” you inquire, surprised at the sudden call. “Everything okay?”

He hums at the end of the line.

“More than okay. Guess whose plans just changed and is actually coming home today for break,” he reveals right away, and you know he’s smiling by the way his tone of voice is lilted in true Taeyong fashion.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, eyes widening. Taeyong’s back? “Today, right now? For the entire summer? You’re actually lying- wait wait I’m coming home right now. Wait. Wait for me.”

“‘Wait wait wait,’ I’m not going anywhere sis,” he grins as he mocks you, noises of shuffling sounding out over your phone speaker. “Mom’s gonna pick me up from the airport in 30, I think. See you then?”

“Lee Taeyong! How could you not tell me,” you frown into the receiver, “I need at least three business days to prepare before seeing your face.”

“Oh, shut up would you. I have literal voicemail receipts of you crying about how much you miss me,” Taeyong retorts, topping your sarcasm.

You sigh, rubbing your temple when you realize that Taeyong’s never gonna let your sad-drunk voicemails go. “Fine, but you better spend every single day with me.”

Taeyong protests jokingly before giving in, promising you that he’ll make up for the time you’ve missed together. With a little, love you, and more of his usual unsolicited comments, the two of you say your quick goodbyes and you turn back to your waiting friends.

“Damn, Taeyong’s really back?” Mark looks at you in awe, his eyes shining with admiration. “He never stays for long, that’s crazy. You gotta let me come over at least once,” he pleads, hands grabbing yours. You know that your best friend looks up to your brother a ton, so you nod at him. “Sick, imma finally be able to talk music with him.”

“Wait, if Taeyong’s coming home for the entire summer,” Chaewon pauses, a knowing smile growing on her face as you groan, knowing exactly what she’s about to say next, “that means a certain Jeong Jaehyun will probably be following him back as well. And likely other kids in their year too from SNU… holy shit, the parties are gonna be literally insane this summer.” She throws her head back in elation as the realization strikes the three of you at once.

“You’re so right,” Mark covers his mouth to hide the smug grin taking over his face. He makes a heart with his hands as he observes you. “I can’t believe that I forgot Miss Y/N over here had the biggest crush on Jaehyun in high school.” You hit him on the chest in response as he absolutely loses it over your misfortune.

“Lovergirl,” he sing-songs, adding fuel to the fire while you shove your face into your palms. Your cheeks warm on their own when your mind flash-backs to your second year of high school, your insufferable crush on your brother’s best friend surfacing memories that you had buried after they both had graduated two years ago.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble into your hands, “all you two do is make me suffer.”

Chaewon grins at you before pulling your figure into a tight hug, tugging Mark in too by his shirt to join your little group.

“It’s out of love,” she giggles before kissing your cheek with an exaggerated muah. Turning slowly towards Mark, he lets out a, “nope nope nope,” before scrambling away from Chaewon’s outstretched arms.

Smiling at their antics, you collect your few belongings and tuck some new records under your arm before heading out of the shop. Saluting your friends goodbye and opening the front door, you cringe at the wave of heat that seeps into the cool space.

“Say hi to Taeyong for me, Y/N! We’ll lock up for today,” Chaewon calls out from behind the counter, sending you an air kiss when you step out into your town’s center square.

The streets buzz with life as you make the quick walk back to your house. With a brilliant sunset soaking the streets in tangerine tones and a line of quaint shops’ wind chimes fluttering beside you, you can’t bring yourself to care about the heat. The alleys you stroll down are comfy, lined with the latest pastel DeLoreans and colorful paper garlands tied along their telephone lines. It’s a complete memory lane, and your comfy suburb — filled with traditional gaewa roofs and terracotta neutrals, clay-red stained roads and gated hanoks — hold a familiarity that no other could replace. It’s the more cramped side of town, and you might envy Taeyong’s thrilling city life that you see through his social media, but nothing will ever beat home.

Your lace camisole sticks to your skin with fervor as you finally get to your own address, letting out a sigh of relief when cool shade encompasses you in the juniper-tinted light of the mudroom. Setting your brand-new records onto the kitchen floor, their faded titles peeking over thin paper sheaths, you make yourself comfortable on the floor as you hum to yourself. The house is quiet.

You put one of the new records into your player before your gaze drifts over to a stack of pictures on the tabletop, filtered evenly between stray letters and tacky postcards that your older brother has always had a knack for.

In addition to texting and calling home every month, Taeyong made it a habit a few years ago to send you the little magazine cut-outs and mini posters that he sees on his escapades, trinkets that remind him of you. Your little kitchen-counter-collection has thinned out in the past months as your brother got increasingly busier with school and his modeling jobs, barely coming home for a few days before rushing back for castings and elite functions. Nonetheless, a little orange package addressed to you would appear at your doorstep with each change of the seasons, tinged with your brother’s cologne and topped with his messy handwriting.

Just as you place the needle on a shiny black record with Missy Elliot’s face plastered across its front, you hear the front door creak open before noises of rolling luggage and playful shouting fill the house's interior.

“Mom, I’m not ten anymore,” you hear Taeyong whine in the higher-pitched voice he reserves solely for family, the telltale sign of his embarrassment, “I can carry my backpack myself. Promise.”

You can imagine the scene before you even see it: your brother looking away to the window as he tries to fight the smile creeping on his face, your mother on her tip-toes as she musses with her son’s hair even though he’s a head taller, and of course, your father leaning against the door with a content grin as his watches his wife’s face light up with happiness that the family is together again.

When you hear their footsteps near your seated figure on the kitchen floor, you feel your brother’s presence before you even see him.

Taeyong stops a few paces away from you, dropping his bag carelessly on the ground before standing with his arms outstretched and eyebrows raised. With his messy hair and airport clothes still hanging off his shoulders, your brother looks like a favorite uncle at holiday dinners when he hasn’t seen his favorite niece and nephew all year.

“Aren’t you gonna come say hi to your best friend before you abandon me for your vinyls again,” he teases before crossing the threshold in three steps and embracing you fully. “It’s been a while, hmm rockstar?”

You hum at the familiar term of endearment, sinking into his figure as your brother rocks you back and forth. You look up at him, his face looking more mature and sharp than when you saw him last.

“You gotta catch me up on that crazy life of yours, yeah? We have all summer.”

Nodding contently, you follow your brother and parents into the dining room for dinner before settling back into the feeling of having four people at home again. Just like the old days, before Taeyong left, where your worries were limited and you allowed yourself to be childish.

…

If anything makes you glad you’re alive, it’s being able to wake up at 2pm in the afternoon on a Thursday and feeling you just gained ten years. It’s truly a blessing, and if you were a bit more religious, you’d be thanking God right now for no school and black-out curtains.

Quickly getting ready, you give one last glance at yourself in the mirror before rushing downstairs to see if anyone’s home still. To your surprise, you catch Taeyong right as he’s opening the door to the basement.

“So she’s alive,” he calls out with an approving nod, surprised that you actually managed to wake up before the sun sets once again. You roll your eyes as you pull cereal in front of you on the kitchen table. The two of you are back to your old ways in a matter of hours, making fun of each other at every chance you get.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to enjoy life, Tae,” you shrug, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He simply tsks at you before walking over to affectionately ruffle your hair, drawing a complaint from you about messing it up.

“Anyway, some of my old friends are coming over today to catch up. We’re probably gonna be downstairs for a while so just let them in the front when they come,” your brother relays, moving back towards the basement when you throw up an okay sign. He gives you a knowing look. “You’re always welcome to join, you know. They all love you.”

You crinkle your nose at the idea. Sure, you’re pretty familiar with most of Taeyong’s high school friends, but you really aren’t too keen on the idea of spending your afternoon with a bunch of older boys when you could be hanging out with Mark and Chaewon.

“I’m okay. You guys have fun, though.”

Resuming your attention on your food, you open the front door a couple times over the next hour for said boys. Their features chiseled, styles changed, and voices a bit deeper, they’re all caught by surprise when you open the door for them (Yuta’s inability to recognise you at all really takes the cake). You suppose that a lot can change in two years.

After the seventh ring of the doorbell, you sigh in exasperation before making your way to the front once again. You grumble under your breath before opening the door, the bitter expression wiping right off your face when you see the two figures in front of you.

“Johnny!”

“Y/N,” the familiar boy exclaims, his towering stature enveloping you in a warm hug before pulling back and examining your growth. “Look who’s all pretty and grown! You look so much like Taeyong now that it’s scary,” he beams at you while turning your face side to side with his hands, and you can’t help but return it. If anyone was as much of an older brother figure as your real one was, it would be Johnny.

“Hey,” a voice sounds out besides him after a few moments of Johnny’s compliments, startling you, and your eyes finally flick over to the subject of your teenage years’ daydreams. Your heart floods with a jittery feeling when he reaches out to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”

Jeong Jaehyun hasn’t changed a bit since you last saw him at your brother’s graduation.

His hair is a bit longer now, dark brown curls shimmering gold in the sunlight and his ears now adorned with more silver studs and rings. But the sun-kissed freckles dusting his nose, the deep-set dimples, the starry eyes — they’re exactly the same as you remember.

He’s still breathtaking.

Johnny bursts your little moment as he grabs your arm to lead you back into your house, pulling both you and Jaehyun along with him to the basement entrance.

Even though you’re painfully aware of your fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on your wrist, it’s true that these boys practically watched you grow up. Even when you look at a certain brown-eyed boy, your whole world feels like it's stopping. Even when your stupid childhood crush on your brother’s best friend was supposed to be gone by now. You know them, and they know you.

After Johnny and Jaehyun disappear down the stairs with a small goodbye and the invitation to join them once again, you head back up to your own room, collapsing onto your bed and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across your ceiling.

You remember your brother and Jaehyun setting them up for you many years ago, their young figures using your bed as leverage to stick them on when you were still too short to reach. You had handed each star carefully to the boys, making sure the adhesive side was up before telling them where to place each one. They waited patiently for you to give them every star until the whole box was empty, the three of you high fiving before you had thanked them enthusiastically. Taeyong had simply pinched your cheek and said, “anything for my baby sister,” before pulling Jaehyun away to play another video game in the living room.

Taeyong was a kind older brother, never complaining when your mother told him to bring you with him and his friends on their little adventures. Occasionally he found you annoying, but his friends never minded your presence, so he couldn’t find a reason to either. You were integrated into their daily outings, the boys taking turns talking and playing games with you as the days progressed.

You think your liking to Jaehyun started then: when your young mind easily confused admiration with puppy love. Your brother’s friends were the nicest boys you had met, certainly nicer than the boys in your class at school. Jaehyun specifically always made sure you were comfortable, making silly faces at you when your eyes met across the room and remembering to bring you snacks from across the street when he got some for his best friend. He was perfect in your eyes.

When you started hanging out more with your own friends as you got older, things never really changed regarding your feelings for the boy. Your secret crush was still as prominent as ever, eyes following his mess of hair whenever he passed you in the hallway at school; it didn’t help that his name was passed around no matter what year you were. Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that, you were definitely not the only girl whose heartbeat stopped whenever he looked their way. He was polite, confident, and undeniably charming, your school’s beloved basketball team captain and a favorite of teachers: the kind of boy everyone wanted to be out of envy, but couldn’t. He was truly untouchable. Your classmates would stare at you in awe when he waved at you through the classroom entrance, telling you how lucky you were that your brother and his group were so cool and how you had guys like Jaehyun over all the time.

But it wasn’t like it was any different at home, where he would smile at you just the same as you worked on your homework in the kitchen before retreating back into the basement with Taeyong.

Even though fifteen year-old you thought your feelings were pretty damn strong at that time, the age gap felt a bit too gaping where kids two years older felt worlds away. By seventeen, they were already off driving and taking weekend trips, your brother’s license making leeway for nights when he and his friends wouldn’t return until sunrise. It felt a little bit like you had been left behind, and yeah, it sucked, but you decided right then and there that you could have fun without them. Taeyong’s friends weren’t necessarily yours in the first place, and you came to the realization that it might have been strange for you to be so close with them at an older age anyway.

If you were sad about not seeing Jaehyun in particular too much anymore, you tried not to show it. Your best friends — Mark and Chaewon — had always known, teasing you relentlessly when the older boy was around, but the idea of him was only a lingering thought at the back of your mind when he graduated. Your ears still perked up hearing his name in passing, but you had your own problems to consume your thoughts and started getting into a new genre of trouble with your friends; the idea of Jaehyun was supposed to be dead and buried six feet under.

So then why was he plaguing your mind like this after years of successfully not thinking about him?

You groan and throw an arm over your face.

Shit.

…

“My little film-maker,” a voice pops up from above you, the grinning face of your brother accompanying it as he surprises you into oblivion. You make a face up at him and offer a reluctant little wave before returning back to your camcorder, zooming in on Chaewon beside you.

You’re on the asphalt outside your house again. The air’s cooler today, a gray sheet of clouds blocking any of the sun’s rays from reaching your golden trio. With your head on Mark’s legs, he strums his guitar gently as Chaewon hums along to the familiar tunes. Her hands are busy on their own, one arm out while her other uses markers to draw a garden into her skin with washed-out blues and oranges.

You turn the camera around to point at Taeyong, the said boy poking his tongue out before plopping down beside Mark.

“I feel like I always find you guys on the ground,” he mutters, observing the way Mark strums his instrument with care and experience. Your friend looks a little intimidated with the proximity of Taeyong leaning towards him, but he plays on nevertheless.

You shrug. “It’s more comfortable.”

“And we’re a little closer to Hell down here,” Chaewon adds on with a grin, pausing from her flesh-art to look up at Taeyong. “We’ll all be heading there soon anyway.”

“Smart girl,” he laughs out, throwing his head back to stare into the sky. He stays there for a good moment before jumping back up onto his feet and twirling a shiny set of car keys around his fingers. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit,” your brother fakes a trail of tears down his cheek with his fist. “Don’t miss her too much.”

“Never,” Mark smirks at you, reaching out to pat your arm affectionately when you let out an offended, Oscar worthy sob at his words.

“Don’t have more fun with him than you do with us, babe,” she calls out as Taeyong drags you off. You salute her back before she turns back to her painting.

Stumbling behind your brother to catch up with his long strides, your eyebrows raise when you catch sight of his infamous red Cadillac parked down the winding road. You grip on tighter to your camcorder before jogging up to the passenger side, ready to swing your legs over the side of the convertible.

“Not so fast,” Taeyong calls out, amused, as he strolls up casually to the driver's side. “We’re picking up some of the guys and Johnny already called shotgun yesterday. Take it up with him, rockstar.”

You splutter indignantly before crossing to the backseat with a huff, sinking into the car’s tan, leather seats and crossing your arms. “Not fair, Tae,” you complain at him before he starts the engine, starting off in the direction of an area you’ve never been before. “Where are we even going?”

He doesn’t answer.

Soon enough, three more bodies crowd into your brother’s car after dropping by Jungwoo’s condo, the boy squishing into the back with you as Jaehyun of all people slides into the seat on the other side of you. They offer smiles and quick greetings to you before the car takes off once again.

His proximity hits you far harder than Jungwoo’s, and you know exactly why. You keep your head tilted away from him as you try to focus on Johnny in the front seat, who’s passionately retelling an encounter he had at the supermarket this morning. It’s incredibly hard when Jaehyun moves and his thigh touches yours, fifteen year-old you coming back to life within you and screaming all sorts of insane things at your brain. You can physically feel his warmth radiating off his skin.

“—so we both reach out at the same time, and luckily, I snatch the crate right before her hands do. But,” Johnny pauses to look through the rearview mirror for dramatic effect, his shades glinting as the Cadillac speeds through dusty roads. “You won’t believe who those hands belonged to.”

He stills with the skill of an A-list actor, reaching up to pluck the sunnies off his face and stare right into Jaehyun’s eyes through the silver glass.

“Lim Saemi.”

Everybody has a different reaction to the name-drop, with Jungwoo and Taeyong’s gasp and your muffled noise ringing out as your eyes widen in the slightest. You try to glance at Jaehyun subtly, and his face doesn’t flicker a bit from its usual stoic expression, but you can feel him tense up next to you before relaxing a few seconds later. He appears seemingly unphased, and if you had not been watching carefully from out of the corner of your eye you would have fallen for it.

You know better, though.

“Oh? Is she back home for the summer too?” Jaehyun throws out casually, tucking his chin in his hand as he looks out through the wind.

“Wait Jae… you didn’t know? I thought if anyone would know first, it would be you,” Jungwoo leans back, surprised at this new development. “Even I knew, and everyone knows I don’t catch onto shit.”

“It’s whatever,” Jaehyun mumbles, deflecting the weird looks he receives. He ends the conversation with two words, and the car falls into silence with the only noises being those from tires against gravel. You glance at him before staring straight forward through the dash.

You know Lim Saemi.

Who doesn’t, in all honesty. Saemi is Saemi, and you’d be the weird one if you hadn’t heard her name at least once throughout your school years. She was like straight out of a Dior catalog. With as much impact as your older brother and his posse had left, she was everything all the girls in your year wanted to be: too pretty to be unnecessarily shallow, too smart to use her looks irrationally.

You remember Lim Saemi.

She’s two years older, like Taeyong and Jaehyun and Johnny. She was the girl who was occasionally over at your house during parties when your brother would force you upstairs, her bleached hair and delicate features drawing in everyone immediately. You remember watching from the top of the stairwell as her figure still captured attention in the darkness of winter’s pitch black nights. From your outside point of view, it was like she was the center of a spindling web that stretched throughout the bottom floor of your house; people just couldn’t help but be lured to her.

You wanted to be Lim Saemi.

Just for one day. You needed to know what it felt like to be the center of a certain boy’s affections, even though she attracted every other person’s along the way as well. She was a different type of suburban it-girl, one that everyone was sure would get snatched up into the celebrity world sooner or later with the way she carried herself.

You knew that Jaehyun and Saemi had always been “just friends” — or at least that was what they told everyone — but you could tell he had liked her throughout their high school years. How could you not, especially when you looked at him the same way he looked at her. Back then, it was more curiosity about their complicated relationship than hate fueled jealousy for you. You still couldn’t help but imagine him treating you with the affection he did with her; even as a teenager, you understood why. And ironically, as you sit in the backseat of your brother’s car with the very boy right beside you, the bubbling feeling of envy is uncomfortable in your gut.

Shaking your head out of your retrospective thoughts, you look around in confusion when the convertible starts to slow on a thinning road, towering evergreens blocking the sky from view.

Leading the car through another winding path, it emerges on the other side within acres of grassy fields and wildflower paths that circles a grandiose, central estate home. Marble blocks stretch across its stone ledges like ivy — an intimidating facade if you’ve ever seen one. Taeyong looks at you through the rearview mirror. His eyes crease in pride when he sees the wonder in yours, enraptured by the sight before you.

“Remember when Johnny said that he’d always wanted to go to a local car show?” your brother starts, grinning at his friend beside him. “Well, yours truly saw an ad at the record shop yesterday for one just outside of town. Someone compliment me, I feel like I just made all of our afternoons a thousand times better.”

“This is actually insane, Yong,” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes widening at the unfamiliar setting.

Retro cars of all brands and models are parked across an acre, their shiny coats glinting in the sun as masses of people linger near and talk amongst themselves. The white pillars of whoever’s home is hosting the car show serves as a gathering place for lovers to mingle, precariously held champagne flutes an ironic contrast to the grit and dirt of the event itself.

Johnny lets out a low whistle before resting his weight on the center console and lowering his sunglasses, observing the scene.

“This is exactly my type of place. Old, rich people and hot girls.”

“Oh my god, Johnny,” you laugh out, not at all surprised that those words came from his mouth.

You tear your gaze away from the outside view to look at Jaehyun after hearing his embarrassed groan at Johnny’s words. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. With his piercing gaze on your face, you look away, flustered, playing it off with a small cough.

Taeyong parks his timeless Cadillac besides others of the same nature before leaving to roam around with Johnny and Jungwoo, buzzing with excitement. It’s no surprise that they make their way over to the group of girls huddled around a vintage truck model first, their giggles ringing out across the field as they throw sly glances to the boys headed their way. You catch sight of your brother leaning towards one in particular before deciding you’ve seen enough and turning to explore by yourself.

Thrilled to be left to your own devices, you follow your own little path off to the side towards a pastel-colored Corvette that had caught your eye earlier. Circling it for a few minutes and capturing it slowly through the lens of your camcorder, you smile happily to yourself while replaying the footage in the shade of a lonely willow tree. The cool breeze brings tangs of clementines and vanilla — from where, you don’t know — as well as the unmistakable scent of petrol and cigarettes as it picks up pieces of your hair before rustling the leaves of the willow.

“Can I see?” a familiar voice startles you. You look up to see Jaehyun’s lean figure making his way over to your crouched one, gesturing to your open camera with his head tilted. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he adds, the corners of his lips quirking up. Mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, you shake yourself out of your momentary funk and nod, thrilled at his interest.

“The colors show up really well with this lighting, especially ‘cuz I just changed my saturation settings,” you mumble, stopping yourself when you realize he probably doesn’t care that much. Tucking your knees to your chest, you wait nervously as you hand the device to him.

You think your heartbeat just about stops when he replies with a “that’s so cool” under his breath.

Jaehyun holds the camera carefully to his chest before sitting down beside you, leaning against the tree trunk before flipping through your gallery. He takes his time watching every little video clip and picture, giving you a little noise of approval every few clicks.

You’re caught off guard when he sighs and puts the camcorder back in your lap, turning to you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen grace his features.

“Y/N, you seriously might be better at this shit than the literal mixed media majors at my uni,” he deadpans. Taken aback, you can’t stop the rosy warmth that creeps up your cheeks. “I’m being so for real right now. Don’t ever stop.”

You pause.

“Do you know how reassuring that is to hear, especially from you?” you say with sincerity, holding eye contact with him.

“Hmm? Really, me?”

“Yeah. It feels like I’m doing something right, like I’m not wasting my time on a fruitless hobby.” Confessing one of your biggest fears to someone who’s familiar to you but not, close to you but not — now that’s probably one of the craziest things you’ve done this week, and you do a whole lot of crazy things in a week.

Jaehyun’s expression changes with your words. He doesn’t reply for a while, just seeming to take in the world around him with only his eyes. Looking from the drooping branches of the willow to its dirt-ingrained roots, his face is cast downwards with a faint, melancholic smile.

Now the mood is ruined, you think to yourself, bitter. Why do I always do this?

Before you can change the subject and move on from your awkward burt-out, he clears his throat.

“You know, I admire you a lot Y/N. You and Taeyong,” he starts, the slim chain around his neck glittering in the afternoon sun when he turns back to you. “Both of you have always been unafraid to pursue the arts, even though I know how your strict parents are about future careers and all that. I wish I had the courage to just… do what I like instead of being a pushover with my dad. Maybe I would be doing music with your brother instead of barely living day by day in pre-med.”

His usual confident eyes are tinged with regret and a little vulnerability as he ruffles his hair in the wind. You tilt your head at him, trying to come up with comforting words when you aren’t so sure if you’re qualified to give him advice in the first place.

“Well… I admire you a lot, Jaehyun. You’ve always been that one person who consistently looks like they have their life in check, someone who’s able to put their all in everything that they do. It’s really a quality to be proud of,” you say to him honestly. “I think you’ll do well wherever you end up. So don’t worry too much, okay?”

The boy stares at you like no one’s ever said that to him, and no one has; even if this might be a passing comment for you, it’s something that he feels relief to finally hear.

“Thanks.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it, but you can hear the gratefulness in his voice nevertheless. You both look away for a few seconds when a brilliant yellow bird flutters past the two of you, settling on the ground in front to peck at a white speck in the soil. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking at the animal.

And with that, Jaehyun shakes his head a bit before resuming back to his relaxed demeanor. He lets out a breath of air and runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Sorry for getting so deep all of a sudden,” he apologies, sheepishly rubbing his neck as you let out a little laugh.

“No, it’s nice to hear that the Valentine Boy has troubles too,” you tease lightly, recalling the God-like aura he used to carry 24/7 when you were younger and the nick-name that followed him around as a result. Jaehyun visibly cringes at your words, no doubt getting high school flashbacks.

“Not that,” he replies, embarrassed. “Anyway, I feel like I haven’t gotten the chance yet to ask you how you’ve been these past few years.” You glance up at him in surprise. He sounds strangely sincere for someone you weren’t that close with out of your brother’s friends, and the confusion must show on your face because he finds it in himself to clarify. “Oh come on, Y/N. I feel like we’ve known each other since forever but I’ve missed a crucial part of your growing up. You’re like a whole different person now.”

“I’d hope so,” you lament, fiddling with your camcorder. “I’ve gone through too much shit to be the same as sixteen-year old me.” Jaehyun laughs out loud at your answer, knowing exactly how you feel as someone who was once a fresh, high school graduate.

“Yeah? Well it seems like just yesterday when you were complaining about being bored after school from not having enough homework—” he stumbles over his words when you push his body with a light shove, the boy barely able to get breaths in with how much he’s laughing at your past cluelessness of how hard high school would really be.

“None of you guys warned me about the horror of calculus, so that is not my fault Jaehyun,” you pout, shaking your head at him.

“So it’s my fault?” he smiles, questioning your statement.

“Yes.” A lie.

“And I’m the reason why you almost failed second semester math?”

“Yes.” Another lie. Wait. “What— how do you even know about that?” You demand, incredulous. Jaehyun just raises his eyebrows and hides his growing grin behind his hand. “Fucking Lee Taeyong.”

He looks overjoyed at your seething, playfully poking out his bottom lip in a mock-frown before getting up and dusting off his pants. Offering a hand to you, Jaehyun uses his strength to pull you to your feet; you’re hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm as your hands linger for a millisecond before he pulls away.

I’m so screwed, you think to yourself, blinking at the sky with fervor. Shaking your head, you tuck your hand to your side and try not to think of his skin on yours.

“They’re finally done flirting,” he notes with a hum, making an acute observation as you both spy the three other boys heading back to the car, their reluctant forms obvious when you see one girl hold up her hands in a ‘call me’ sign.

Smirking, you skip ahead of Jaehyun before turning back and waving your wallet at him.

“25000 won that we’ll see one of those girls walk out of Tae’s room tomorrow morning,” you chant as Jaehyun jogs to catch up with you. Chuckling, he pushes your wallet away.

“Nah, that man doesn’t give a fuck about the time of day. 25000 that she’s gonna be at your house in twenty,” he counters, snorting when you gag at the thought.

You can’t help but light up at his content face; this feels like this is the first time you’ve ever had a real, honest to goodness, conversation with him as a young adult.

And you’re in trouble, because you think you like it more than you should.

…

“I did it,” Chaewon confesses over the phone, the sound of a knife against a chopping board from her end revealing her current position.

“What,” you inquire, “you finally passed your license test?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Never.” You flash a wicked grin at the sheet music in your hands, shuffling through the never-ending leaflets.

When Taeyong had said he’d pay you to organize his papers, you clearly weren’t thinking straight enough to be saying yes to this hell. He’s been out for an hour already and not even a third of the pile is sorted through. You slump forward on the couch and shake out your tired hands, groaning when your knuckle hits the coffee table with a painful thump.

“For your information, I don’t need to drive. Hot girls take public transportation,” she retorts with a humph.

“Can’t argue with you there, passenger princess.”

“Oh please, I can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice.”

You laugh, a “you know me, Chae” accompanying the sound ringing out through your empty house. Gathering Taeyong’s work into your arms and dumping the rest on the table, you slide onto the carpeted ground with a sigh. Your bones are overly sore from sitting for too long and the couches seams have made painful, little white imprints on your thighs. With a click of your tongue, you inwardly curse your brother for offering such good deals to a minimum wage paid, about-to-be uni kid, or else you wouldn't be spending a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on whatever this is.

“So,” you prompt, “what did you do this time.”

“Ha,” Chaewon starts.

“I’m scared.”

“Ran into Jaehyun today.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to hang up now,” you sing, slipping the phone between your shoulder and ear, the warm device tucked neatly in the crevice of your neck before you hear the sound of your doorbell ringing out.

“Wait—”

“Hold on for a sec, Chae. Someone’s at the door.”

You will yourself to get up from the carpet before making your way over to the front of the house, preparing yourself for a blast of hot summer air to hit you. The silver knob twists under your hand as you swing the door open slowly, expecting the mailman or a delivery on your front porch. Certainly not—

“—Hey.”

Your eyes flick up in surprise.

“Oh shit,” Chaewon whispers over the phone. “That’s not who I think it is, right?”

It’s been a week since you last saw Jaehyun face to face, and your conflicted inner thoughts have been battling in your conscience for the entirety of it. Well, this isn’t great.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you manage to sound out, mentally chastising yourself for sounding so nervous.

“And that’s my cue to hang up now,” the voice at the other end of your call snickers, the long beep of it ending blaring into your ear.

Your arm drops to your side, phone in hand, as you stare pointedly at Chaewon’s contact info lighting up the screen, her eyes mocking you through her profile picture. Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow as he looks between your phone and your face, seemingly questioning if you’re currently busy through his eyes alone.

“Umm…” your gaze flits around in flusteration, looking just about anywhere but him. “Taeyong’s not home right now, if that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asks, relaxed as he leans his body against the doorframe.

“He’s picking up stuff from Johnny’s across town, so like,” you glance up at the clock, “an hour? I could uh… call you when he gets back if you want.”

Jaehyun simply pokes his tongue into his cheek in contemplation before tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just stay.” With a small smile, he adds on, “if you're okay with that, of course.”

You peer past him to see his shiny black Mustang sitting in front of your house, before returning to your original position and shrugging at the foyer. Losing your shyness momentarily as you let out a puff of air, you follow Jaehyun in before deciding to answer.

“My company is a blessing in itself, isn’t it,” you think out loud, displaying a cheeky smile when Jaehyun turns around to playfully scoff at you.

“Now that’s a sure thing, Y/N.”

The boy seats himself on one of the kitchen barstools and places his chin in his hand, leaning over the counter to stare at you as you busy yourself with the fridge.

In all honesty, you weren’t prepared to see him again. He’s already been occupying your mind a little too much for your liking during this past week, the idea of his return to your life teetering you on the edge of insanity. You didn’t know high school crushes hit that hard two years later, and it certainly doesn’t help that his golden skin and constellation of tawny freckles have made an almost daily appearance in the Lee household — just like the old times.

“I think we still have that special glass-bottled lemonade from the farmer’s market last weekend, unless,” you pause, sifting through the multitude of items in the ice box. “Yup. Nevermind. Taeyong finished all of them.”

Jaehyun snorts, already familiar with his best friend’s midnight tendencies of clearing out the fridge whenever, wherever.

“We also have water? And um… milk. And Vodka.”

“This sounds like Yuta’s fridge, and that thought alone is like, genuinely terrifying,” Jaehyun observes from behind you. You shake your head, recalling the first time you saw the said boy’s freezer stash of condiments and liquor at a house party a few years ago. Only condiments and liquor.

“Oh! And cold noodles,” you hold up the container with a little shake. “I remember you liking my mom’s version of them,” you mumble quietly, willing yourself to turn around when the cold air from the fridge starts to sting your eyes.

Jaehyun observes you curiously, a question at the tip of his tongue. You remember?

He stops himself from blurting it out when you seat yourself across from him and push the container towards his direction.

“You practically live here anyway. Help yourself,” you say a bit louder, embarrassed about the fact that you remember such a miniscule detail about him.

You squint at the countertop — which you honestly wish would swallow you whole — as Jaehyun moves around you to pour himself a glass of water. His muscles strain against his loose t-shirt as he moves around your kitchen with familiarity, and you turn away with wide eyes when you realize you’ve spaced out while staring at his back.

It’s a situation that younger you would have never imagined; you had simply never been left in a room with him alone. Your brother and his other friends were always there, a subtle reminder of the distance between you two and the fact that he was probably still worlds away.

But you’re an adult now, and it’d be a lie if you said that you don’t want Jaehyun to notice you in that way.

Feelings are too complicated to think about sober. You grimace to yourself, pressing two fingers against your temple as you lean your cheek against the cool, hard marble of the countertop.

“Y/N?” you lift your head up at your name, flinching back in surprise when Jaehyun’s face appears at the edge of your vision, his figure buzzing with excitement as he gapes at you. “This is yours, right?”

Your eyes drift to the black canisters in his palm. My film.

“Oh yeah— wait. I forgot to develop those ones,” you make your way over and take the undeveloped film rolls into your hands, the boy observing you with wide eyes.

“That’s sick. Do you develop them yourself?”

“Hm? Nah, I bring them to the camera store downtown. Left them in the fridge to preserve for a while so they should be good to go now.”

It’s only when you look up from the canisters that you spy his expression, the pure giddiness painted on his features catching you off guard. Jaehyun’s body language tells you that he is unnervingly thrilled about his new discovery.

“You were never into this kind of stuff when Taeyong and I were still here in high school,” he brings up slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue before following you when you head towards the stairs. “If I had known…” he trails off, pursing his lips to the side so that his notorious dimples show.

You peer at him over your nose bridge curiously. If he had known, he would've what?

Jaehyun pokes his tongue into his cheek and furrows his brows, thinking about the times when he was over at your house after school and you would be nowhere to be seen. Is the dark room where you were, or were you out taking pictures at the rink and shooting short films with your friends? Maybe at the park with your old camcorder and skateboard? The fact that he never knew about so many of your hobbies is almost troubling considering how long he’s known you, and it makes him shift in place. He supposes he never really took the time to know his best friend’s little sister, but looking at you as you stare back, you’re so much more than that.

Had you always shared so much in common?

“Well, imma go upstairs and watch a movie,” you resume your climb before pointing upward. “You can come up until Tae comes home, if you want?”

The boy glances at the door momentarily, contemplating how Taeyong would react if he found him in his sister’s room. Would he kill me? Maybe.

He shrugs. Fuck it, I could totally beat him in a fight, Jaehyun reasons, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know how he reached that conclusion, but he thinks he’s joking. Mostly.

“The real question is, what’re we watching? If it’s some romcom shit I’m leaving,” Jaehyun raises a challenging brow with his smirk as he follows you nonetheless, hand following yours dangerously close on the wooden handrail.

“Not my problem you’ve got no taste.”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, pushing his body into view as you push open your bedroom door, “I might actually die if I see DiCaprio’s face one more time, and you can’t tell me it’s not you that has all of his movies in the living room cabinet, ‘cause they’re definitely not your brother’s.”

“That seems a bit of a personal issue between you and him, Jaehyun,” you let out a laugh with your words. Turning around to flick on the light switch, you’re met with his face closer than it was before. “What.”

“What?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart. You think this face isn’t DiCaprio level?”

Your face heats up without your consent, flustered at the sudden proximity and the fact that you most definitely think Jaehyun’s better than all of your favorite actors combined. You would never admit that to him for the life of you, though.

You swallow before pushing him lightly, making your way into the center of your bedroom.

“Admit it,” he sings, not giving up as he relentlessly parks himself in front of you with his legs set further apart so that he can look at you at eye level. “I bet even Ji Chang-wook’s got nothing on me.”

“Woah woah woah,” you gasp in offense, throwing a hand up to your chest. “Now that’s crossing the line, buddy. Ji Chang-wook’s got something on everybody.”

“I bet,” Jaehyun drawls out sarcastically, eyes flipping to the ceiling ludicrously slow. He seems to glitch for a few seconds, mouth open but no words coming out. “Especially with the way his face is plastered… on… your ceiling? You fall asleep to that?”

Your eyes widen when you have the sudden realization that Jeong Jaehyun is in your room, in your personal space, looking at your things. And that most certainly includes the poster of Ji Chang-wook next to the plastic stars above your bed, glassy, plastic-y eyes staring down at your ruffley bed sheets and everything. In your defense, it was the result of a lost dare — but he doesn’t know that. Wow, you think to yourself, regretting all of your life decisions, I’m just so good at first impressions.

“Yes,” you give up somewhat dejectedly, offering him a (hopefully) confident smile before pulling a projector from under your bed and setting it up on your bedside table.

Jaehyun just shrugs and seats himself on your bed, muttering a little “cute” that you miss before observing as you give the machine a few good slaps so it’ll turn on. Settling against the wall, he lets his eyes flutter over your decor and multitude of things plastered across every inch of your space. If anything, the way your room’s changed since the last time he was in it gives him an outlook into your life that he wouldn't have known otherwise.

From the blockbuster movie ads on your door to the unfiltered sunlight reflecting off your mirror, the shoelaces tied around your closet door to the origami threaded around your ceiling fan, he feels like he’s falling. Maybe, just maybe, he even finds a bit of himself in the painted shoe boxes shoved under your desk and your circular record shelf. Even the stars he and Taeyong stuck on years ago are still there too. He recognizes bits and pieces here and there, but thrown together in one place, a cohesive picture forms in front of him. It’s suffocating — in a good way — as if he’s been thrown into the unknown and is hit with a new side of you at full force; everything, everywhere, all at once.

“Ha!” you exclaim, holding out a fist for Jaehyun to bump when your projector flickers on. With a bright grin, you flop onto the bed beside him and wait for the whirring of the projector to start with a hollow click.

The beginning few seconds of the film you’ve chosen roll onto your makeshift movie screen, a white sheet hanging by its threads from your vanity, as the bright images light up your figures with a burning white.

Jaehyun figures out what you’ve done just as a familiar face blurs into view, the moving calligraphy of The Great Gatsby scrawled across your bedroom wall while you poke out your tongue at him, high off of the mere fact that you’ve gotten your way. You hear him let out a defeated sigh from beside you, his knee hitting yours as he settles into your comforter nevertheless.

“Sharp as hell, aren’t you. I should’ve known DiCaprio would show up in my sight sooner or later.”

…

Summer tastes like melted sugar crystals in cherry garcia — or rather, summer tastes like Mark Lee’s Strawberry-Rouge Extravaganza, the latest, state-of-the-art item on his Record Shop menu. When you ask why the random French is thrown in there, he defends himself adamantly, claiming that his three years of secondary French language classes have practically made him a local.

“It’s like a metaphor for saying, ‘I love you,’” Mark claims with sass, even though you don’t make the connection (“That’s not what a metaphor is…?” you mumble quizzically under your breath). He ignores the weird look you throw at him and goes back to his mixing on the counter of the cashier station. “And it feels like a warm hug, because what better to express that than sparkly, drunk goodness.”

“Wow,” Chaewon deadpans, not even looking up from her nails that she’s painting right next to him. The mix of nail polish and liquor makes you scrunch your nose as you organize the main display, a rotating shelf that headlines Blondie. “You should be a poet. You have such a way with words.”

“I don’t need your negativity in my life, girly.” You almost choke on air when you hear a sharp snap of Chae’s gum in retaliation, her icy glare making Mark wilt under her gaze.

Their intense, non-verbal argument is saved by the dinging of a customer opening the door to the shop. You whip around to greet them only for your words to die right in your throat. Two silhouettes step in, their tall stature and familiar features blocking the sun from shining through the entranceway.

“…Jaehyun, Jungwoo! How are you guys?” Mark offers when he sees you fall silent.

The two greet happily right back, sliding past you to pat him on the back and exchange handshakes. Jaehyun lingers by your side for a little, holding his fist out for you to tap like you did just the other day in your room.

“We knew we’d find you guys in here,” Jungwoo laments, looking around the shelves before his eyes land on Mark’s… setup. You have to admit, this one looks a bit more pleasant than his past drink recipes, and you can tell that Jungwoo agrees wholeheartedly. His hand lingers on a bottle of sparkling vanilla wine as Mark slices red fruit ardently with a plastic, cafeteria knife. A paper cup holds the rest of his special ingredients: rock candy on wooden sticks, shattered candy hearts, and star-shaped ice cubes. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it looked delicious, like something you would order at a beach-side bar.

Jungwoo seems to find the situation amusing, a trio of barely-adults passing slow, withering days in their own little makeshift paradise. Leaning against the countertop like he’s on the cover of Parisian Vogue, he nicks his baseball cap up a bit higher to look into the three of yours’ eyes better.

“Johnny’s throwing a party.”

That’s all anyone needs to say before Chaewon’s attention is snagged, her eyes gaining an undeniable gleam.

“We’re going,” she speaks for everyone in the room, especially looking you square in the eyes as if saying, you’re not escaping this time, young lady.

“Mhm,” Jaehyun confirms, a hand rubbing at his pulse as he swings an arm over Jungwoo’s shoulders. “A fancy mixer, kinda, the day after tomorrow. We’ll have all the booze, so the only thing you need to bring is yourself.”

“And,” the latter chimes in, “it’s at Johnny’s countryside estate, so y’all can do whatever illegal shit you kids get yourself into without worrying about anything.”

Chaewon lets out a small scoff at his words, mumbling a “we still do here it anyway” under her breath and throwing a knowing look at the alcohol in front of Mark that’s very blatantly in every passerby’s sight.

As Jungwoo relays more information about the plans to them at the front of the shop, Jaehyun turns to follow your path as you diligently place records back in their places in the depths of the store.

“Do you wear silver or gold?”

You jump at his appearance out of nowhere, glancing at him with a certain hesitation at his question. Your confusion as to how this topic appeared so suddenly is painted blatantly across your face as you close the last turntable with a click.

“Why?” You pause. “But both. Depends on my mood.”

“Because this is yours now.”

He reaches into his jeans’ front pocket, pulling out something in his fist before reaching for your hand and dropping a small, plastic ring in the middle of it.

It’s neon orange and ugly as hell, like something you would find stuck to gum on the underbelly of a school desk. But hey, who are you to complain when Jaehyun looks so pleased at himself as he looks between your face and the ring, trying to gauge your reaction to his surprise gift. And, you’re definitely not complaining when it’s a gift from Jaehyun himself.

“Thank you…? Also,” you squint, picking up the ring to slide onto your pointer finger, “this isn’t silver or gold.” He shrugs half heartedly.

“Sucks to suck.”

You kick the tip of his Converse as he laughs with his whole body, the boy’s deep voice filling the small space.

“It’s from the coin toy machine outside,” he explains. With a broad grin, he pulls his other hand from out of his pocket and waves it in your face. The whole rainbow has found its home on his fingers, all silly swirls and squiggles of nylon with glued on googly-eyes half falling off.

It’s the pure childish elation you share which makes you unknowingly sink deeper and deeper into the ocean that is Jeong Jaehyun, and you would have felt the metaphorical gasps of air your lungs so desperately need if not for the momentary distractions he provides.

You suppose all of this is your own doing anyway.

…

It feels as though Autumn has made a reverse pit-stop in the middle of summer.

If not obvious by the way the seasonal trees are drooping with a sudden dewy chill, it’s the sudden absence of people in general that serves as a telltale sign. There’s almost no cars on the road, fewer students out and about, and less frequent public transportation.

The last one in particular really speaks to Jaehyun.

Scrunching his nose at the crisp air, he exits the hole-in-the-wall café he usually frequents when he’s bored, the biting coldness of a mid-August day unfamiliar to him. The boy spent almost the entire day inside; switching between staring at the weather app on his computer and deleting emails from his overflowing inbox for two hours wasn’t the way he thought he’d spend the afternoon, but alas, waiting that long at the crumbling bus stop wasn’t ideal either. He much prefers being warm, caffeinated, and pretending to read a scientific journal than freezing his ass off on a metal bench.

Anyone would think the same, Jaehyun shrugs to himself… at least until he starts nearing said bench.

Jaehyun stops mid-step when he spots something strange, side-eyeing the undeniably familiar blob crouching at the bus stop approaching on the right.

Why? Well, it's swathed in an oversized hoodie, has a keychain-ful backpack hanging low on its shoulders, and is suspiciously Y/N-shaped.

And if that doesn’t tell him anything, well, the way your eyes go comically wide when you turn to the right and coincidentally meet gazes with Jeong Jaehyun of all people definitely does. It’s the way he’s standing there like a runway model with his hood over his head, dimples on full show as he raises his eyebrows at you and his expensive-looking leather bag hanging off of one shoulder that almost causes you to fall over. Luckily, you pull yourself together before something embarrassing happens, like losing your balance and crashing into the road (not that it’s happened before, of course…). You’re well aware that you tend to get distracted easily, and you’re definitely in trouble because that man is one hell of a distraction.

Getting up quickly and dusting the invisible dust off your legs, you offer him an embarrassed wave as he approaches you.

“How long have you been sitting there? It’s fucking cold outside,” Jaehyun calls out, concerned, glancing down at your skirt and the way you hide your hands in your hoodie sleeves. Sidling up next to you, he bounces on the balls of his feet a little before stuffing his own hands in his pockets.

“It’s okay,” you smile down at the way your shoes match next to his on the sidewalk, “I’m used to the bipolar weather. Plus, it’s not that cold when you’ve got these!” Tucking your lip between your teeth, you rustle around in your sweater-paws before popping out your hands proudly in front of you. Nestled in your palms are old hand warmers, their heat fading but worth their purpose nonetheless.

“Only you would have hand warmers in stock during the middle of summer, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile threatening to take over his face makes his eyes crinkle up in amusement.

“Mhm,” you say, distracted as you see the bus pull up to the sidewalk from down the road, “I’ve got a whole box in my backpack. Who knows, maybe an ice storm will hit one day and I’ll be the only one with hands while everyone else’s freeze off.”

He pauses in place, speechless at your comment. You simply shrug at him, as if saying that’s the way life goes, before nodding to the bus driver and climbing up the vehicle’s steps. “Don’t worry, I’d share mine with you.”

Jaehyun lets out a breath in disbelief.

Your attitude is truly refreshing, and he can’t even begin to describe what a breath of clean air it is to talk to you everyday; he’s used to girls coming up to him with hidden intent, their eyes tinged with lust as they disguise their interest with false pretenses and flowery words. Flattery is what it began with, but after years of receiving nothing from their end while he found himself aimlessly hoping for someone genuine and it was disappointing that he couldn’t find even one. He’d wish they would just treat him normally and act like themselves, a person not afraid to be genuine with him and let their inner child show.

It’s as he observes the way you hum as you climb up and give a playful salute to the driver that he realizes you’re the perfect balance of both, the maturity in you shining admirably at the times when it is needed while never acting like something you’re not.

Jaehyun blinks at your figure before tugging on your arm to move around you, swiping his bus pass twice before you can even register what’s happened. He lets a smug grin take over his face before pulling you to the back of the bus and plopping down beside you.

“Thank you for paying for me,” you tilt your head at him, tucking your card back into your pocket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, though.”

You give him a grateful smile before remembering something that you had meant to show him, pulling out the walkman you found in your grandmother’s cellar yesterday from your backpack, a dusty old thing that still works perfectly fine. Looping its built-in headphones around your neck, you tilt the player towards him before offering him the small device. Turning it around in his hands, he gapes in undeniable awe as he taps the plastic cover with intrigue.

You knew he’d like it.

“I haven’t seen one of these in so long. Whose grave did you raid to get this, the hell?”

“Found it yesterday in my grandparent's cellar, and before Taeyong got his hands on it. I thought that you’d find it interesting so I was planning on showing you later this week, but hey, look who I happened to run into today.”

He simply shakes his head before bringing the machine up to his eyes and popping open its cover, a finger coming up to trace the dust out of the inside of it.

“Do you have a cassette to put in it or…?” he begins, looking up at you. You shake your head. “We can go to the vintage shop downtown later to get you some, if you want.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, Y/N. You’ve always got the coolest things to play around with, and we can go shove this in Yong’s face too. He’s gonna be so jealous.”

“You just wanna annoy my brother,” you snort, nudging his arm.

“You’ve got me there.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender before poking his tongue inside his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Or… I could make you a personalized mixtape?” Your jaw drops comically, no words coming out of your mouth as you just stare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“So, so serious.”

“If you did, I would actually lose my mind,” you finally close your mouth in amazement. “You’d probably be my favorite person ever.”

“Well, then that would be well worth it. I’ll work on it when I’m back in the studio at uni,” Jaehyun smiles genuinely, handing you your walkman back before swinging his leather bag back onto his shoulder as the bus pulls to a halt. With a parting pat on your shoulder, he mouths a goodbye before descending the aisle.

“This is my stop. See you at the party, Y/N.”

…

When you had received the call on a quiet Saturday afternoon from Mark that he and Chaewon would be leaving earlier to help set up for Johnny’s weekend party — the one that Jungwoo and Jaehyun had only told you about just a few days prior — the possibility of not having a ride to bring you hadn’t even struck yet. You were too busy thanking your friends that they had granted you two more hours for an afternoon nap, and an extra 60 minutes to get ready; a truly ideal day in your opinion.

It’s only when you’ve given yourself a final look in the mirror, admiring the new dress that you’ve donned at the last minute, do you hear the undeniable honk of a car outside. Brushing aside the curtains and trying to get your eyes to focus in the dark, you make a noise of panic when you spy Jaehyun’s car outside your house.

What’s he doing here?

You'd spent far more time with Jaehyun in the past few days than you have in your entire lifetime, running small errands with him when Taeyong's not there and browsing through retro stores in nearby towns for old cassettes. With every hour more spent together, it felt like you were getting closer to knowing his feelings, and that in itself excited you to no end. He'd end every drive together with a knowing look and some sort of physical touch, and each goodbye left you in anticipation for the next time you'd see him.

Sprinting down the stairs and grabbing your shoes as fast as you can, you rush out into the street where the Mustang’s tinted windows prevent any passerby from making out any faces from the outside.

As you approach the driver’s side, the window rolls down to reveal the owner of the car.

“Hey,” Jaehyun grins at you, his pupils dilated and the faint smell of smoke lingering on his breath.

It feels like forever since you’ve seen him, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. You can feel your head fog up when you fully take in his appearance; with his hair slicked back and his button-up undone to reveal sharp collarbones and a dangling, silver cross, he looks godly as the moonlight basks him in a paper-white glow.

“Chaewon and Mark had to stay later to help set up more and Taeyong’s been pregaming since six, so he sent me to pick you up. You can get in the back.”

You hum in understanding before climbing into the backseat, tucking your hands under your thighs before looking up at the front of the car.

Your heart drops.

“Hi,” the girl in the shotgun seat lilts, her bleached hair falling into wavy ringlets against Jaehyun’s leather seats. “Y/N, right? I remember you! You’re Yongie’s baby sis.”

You itch to fill the silence that follows, even though you assume she would have no trouble clearing it with her well-known, extroverted dynamic. There’s an unnamed tension in the car between the two people in the front seat, and it’s so intense that you could cut it with a knife.

You take shallow breaths, not sure what to make of your position. I’m sitting in a car with my crush and his former situationship— holy. How did we get to this point? She’s literally—

“—Lim Sae-mi,” you attempt to give her a genuine smile, flashing your teeth in what you pray isn’t an awkward expression.

Saemi simply twinkles in the rear view mirror, her delicately painted lips stretching up before she twists around to observe you.

“You do remember me! Look at how pretty you are too,” she exclaims, reaching back to pat down a strand of your hair, her voice laced with sticky sweetness. “You could be a model, just like Yongie. And your hair is so healthy, I’m jealous. Isn’t her hair so so nice, Jae?”

Jaehyun snaps to attention at the mention of his name, seeming to be in some sort of haze with the way he looks like he’s holding his breath for as long as humanly possible.

“Yeah.” You find yourself wilting in the slightest at his monotone voice. Looking out the window as he starts driving towards the outskirts of town, you try not to let yourself be too disappointed at the way he loses such distinctive qualities when around the girl sitting next to him.

Jaehyun freezes up when Saemi turns to him all doe-eyed, flashbacks flitting through his mind of the days when he’d anticipate the moments he’d see her again when they were younger. Strangely enough, the effect that she used to have on him — palpitating heart, nervous ticks, rosy cheeks, uncanny attraction — seems to have dissipated. Now, highschool-Jaehyun seems so far away, and their memories even further.

What’s changed?

“Um,” you start as you watch suburban lights zoom by less and less frequently, your brain working just as fast to eliminate some of the weird, awkward tension happening in the car. You don’t really know enough to make conclusions, but something must have happened in the past for them to react to each other like this. “How’s SNU? Do you guys run into each other often on campus?”

Jaehyun chuckles lowly, a tinge of uncertainty lining his tone as he waits for Saemi to answer your question.

“Right, you’re going to uni next year right? Hmm… we don’t really see each other on campus at all, now that I think about it,” she simpers, frowning at the road in front of her before brightening up in less than a second. “But that's because Jae’s so busy, preparing to be a future doctor and all. He was always the smartest one out of all of us.”

You watch as he falls silent, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

“Hey, we should catch up sometime Jae,” she adds on with a tone like she doesn’t really mean it before turning her gaze to him, tacking on a noise of agreement with herself as if she's already decided that they will.

She knows they won’t.

You watch their eyes meet briefly before Jaehyun breaks it to turn the steering wheel left onto a never-ending stretch of a lone, empty road.

Saemi’s a hard person to figure out. You know that she’s charming when she wants to be and firm when she needs to be, but you also know from Taeyong that she has a personality she can flip on and off like a switch; it’s almost as if mind games with the people around her are amusing, and it’s up to the other person to figure out what her true intentions are. It’s understandable why so many people find her alluring.

Glancing up at the back of her head once more, you observe as she leans back with a faint frown before swallowing something in her hand that looks like a bottled shot. She looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat every few minutes, and you’re not sure if she’s more put off by the alcohol or by Jaehyun. Your guess would be the latter, even if her voice makes it seem like she’s the most confident person in the world.

You don’t even attempt to start another conversation, instead opting to roll down the window so that you can watch empty land flash by, an occasional plant breaking the smooth ground. The car picks up speed on its own with no other vehicle in sight, the only light coming from the rising crescent moon and a solo gas station situated further down the road.

The three of you perk up as you approach the oil refill and the only other car at the station, a big pick-up with dressed-up figures leaning out of its windows and sitting around the back cargo bed. You assume they’re heading to the same place you are with the way they all shout at each other as they pass a dark bottle back and forth. A boy gets out of the driver’s seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s car and lean through Saemi’s side of the window, shades pushed up into his hair and beads and cuban links dangling out of his shirt. You don’t recognize him, but you’re not surprised when Johnny knows just about every young person in the world.

“Jaehyun, man! And Saemi, damn, I haven’t seen you guys in a while. Headed to Johnny’s?” he exclaims with a loud voice and wide smile, reaching in to pat a long-lost friend on the shoulder. Just like that, the extroverted Jaehyun and Saemi are back, conversing with him as if their awkward energy and off demeanors didn’t just dictate the ride over.

The guy notices you in the back when your eyes meet accidentally, both of you taken aback.

“And who might this be?” He smirks at you, gaze never leaving yours as he directs the question to the other two in the car. You smile back just to be friendly, but with the way he’s staring at you, you’re not sure if that’s the right way to go about things.

“Lee Taeyong’s sister,” Jaehyun speaks up, glimpsing back at you with an unreadable look. A look of recognition flashes over the stranger’s face as his mouth opens in surprise.

“So this is the sister. Shit, is that why I’ve never seen her around?”

“Yeah.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice, expression faltering before he raises his eyebrows with a smile. “And that’s why she’s off limits, man. I know that look all too well.”

You look at your brother’s friend in question, leaning forward, but Jaehyun doesn’t even glance at you. Both of you know that Taeyong isn’t really the overly protective type, so why would he say that? Maybe he knows that this guy is bad news, so he’s warning me. You nod to yourself, satisfied with your quick thinking. That sounds about right.

You’re about to offer a comment yourself, but you’re stopped by a—

“Lim Saemi! No fucking way, is that really you?” another shrill voice calls from across the expanse of the gas station, a former classmate stalking across the black cement in teetering heels as she waves dramatically at the girl in front of you. “It is you! I can’t believe we ran into you like this, you gotta join the party truck now!”

Saemi seems to recognize her, waving dramatically out the window to her friend. In a matter of seconds, the girl has pulled her out of Jaehyun’s car as she laughs at her friend’s antics of tugging on her wrist to string her along, drunk. Saemi throws you and Jaehyun a look that seems to say everything and nothing at the same time; if you were to interpret it in your own language, it would spell out: So sorry I’m ditching you guys! I love both of you to pieces but I’d honestly rather drink bleach than get back in that car. Hope you understand. Muah.

And with that, you watch Saemi switch cars in a matter of moments. The boy follows them back to their chaotic ride to Johnny’s after waving goodbye at Jaehyun, who’s watching them without any emotion bleeding through his stoic face. You can’t even begin to guess what's going through his mind as his eyes flick back to his dashboard, spaced out.

You pause.

“...and then there were two.”

Biting your bottom lip when you realize you mumbled that out loud, and you’ve genuinely never wanted to be six feet under more because the man hasn’t even said a word since she left you two.

Jaehyun freezes at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were in the car. Letting out an airy laugh after a moment, your shoulders relax when you sense that his weird, Saemi-caused demeanor has faded with her sudden absence.

“Wanna move to the front? It’s lonely up here.” You perk up at his belated response, excitedly getting out of the back to slide into the shotgun seat at his invitation. The man next to you seems to visibly relax, stomach releasing and shoulders drooping with less tension as he starts the car and turns back onto the stretch of empty road.

The silence doesn’t bother you this time when Saemi’s absent; it’s pleasant and full, as if both of you needed this momentary break from nonstop life to collect yourself. Staring at the dust picking up along the wheels while the needle on the speedometer rises up and up, you find the scene before you therapeutic in unexplainable ways.

Jaehyun feels the same, his eyes spacey as one hand rests languidly on the steering wheel with ingrained muscle memory. The vehicle coasts past blank acres and rolling hills, the burning moon engaging in hide-and-seek as it appears and disappears behind their peaks. He doesn’t even feel the need to turn up the stereo as he usually does when your audible, light breaths are sufficient enough. It’s comforting in ways he didn’t know he needed.

You recognize how close you are to Johnny’s estate when you see the road before you thin into dirt and pebbles, a grandiose silver gate barely visible in the far distance. Behind the gate is the unmistakable gleam of polished stone, no doubt the road that leads up to the party and an onslaught of cars. If you concentrate hard enough, your mind can even conjure up the deep bass of the music that the host prefers at his mixers, their heavy resonance flowing through the thick soil to the bottom of Jaehyun’s car and all the way up to the soles of your feet.

You’re just about to point your strange observance out when Jaehyun makes a sudden swerve, pulling off to an edge of mangled weeds and tree roots, the car rolling to a shuttering stop just before a barren field of dead plants. Your body lurches forward a bit with the movement, the boy apologizing profusely when he sees you adjust your seatbelt with confusion written all over your expression.

“Fuck, sorry sorry sorry,” he mumbles, moving his hand in front of you as if you could fall out of your seat at any minute. “I just… the stars are stunning right now, we gotta stop for a sec. You don’t mind if we…”

He trails off, distracted, as he pulls the car door open hastily, rushing out to take in the night sky in its full glory. It’s as if he doesn’t move fast enough, the stars will pull a disappearing stunt on him.

It’s endearing to see Jaehyun like this, a smile subconsciously finding its way onto your face when you spot him bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. His eyes are completely enamored with the sight above him, neck craned up at an odd angle to see everything; from the way his fingers dig into his palms in excitement to the cold flush on his cheeks from the biting evening chill, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when encountering such a beautiful product of mother nature.

The thought of Johnny’s party evaporates from both of your minds as you find yourself mirroring Jaehyun’s position.

After a few minutes of stillness, he looks at you with the very stars from the sky in his eyes.

“Can we stay here for a bit?”

He beams at your “of course” before hoisting himself onto the cool hood of his Mustang and offering a hand out for you to grab. Pulling you up onto the spot beside him with a huff, he pulls your wrist to shift your body closer to his before smiling contently to himself.

You try not to let your mind spiral at his warm touch, instead focusing your attention on the blanket of constellations that greet you from the inky stretch of night sky. The cold metal of the hood cools your burning skin as your legs stretch out in front of you, skin ghastly as your arms support your weight from behind you.

When he hears your faint intake of breath, Jaehyun allows his eyes to leave the pretty view above him to the pretty view beside him for a few seconds, letting them linger on your side profile as you stare up in awe. They fall from the slope of your nose to the open curve of your lips, circling around your neck and raking over the ornate gems decorating your skin. You’re breathtaking in 1001 ways, and it’s such a pressing realization that he blinks away in shock when your gaze suddenly meets his.

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to get away for a bit. All of my best ideas come to me at night, I think. There’s just something about darkness and non-artificial light which is curiously inspiring.”

You nod, leaning back on the windshield and resting your head against its glass. Nighttime lets you think in the abstract, where the shadows don’t take shape and remind you to think in a direct and methodical way.

“I get that,” you empathize. “After Taeyong left, I used to climb onto my roof after dark and just sit there alone for hours. I wouldn’t know how much time had passed until I got back into my room, and to be honest, that was my favorite time of the day. It took my mind off things, even if it was only for a few hours.”

“You know, Yong and I used to do that when we were younger. You were too little to remember I think, but we’d go up after your parents fell asleep and throw basketballs down the side of your house to see how far they would bounce up… we probably hit your window too a few times. Only a few.”

“That was you?” you jut, incredulous.

“Oh, so she does remember,” Jaehyun laughs under his breath, playfully avoiding eye contact when you scoff at your brother and his' antics. “Anyway, I wanna go up there again someday.”

“Our roof? I’ll bring you.”

Jaehyun turns to face you.

“Promise? I’m counting on it, Lee.”

You don’t hide your bashful smile this time, looking away when the boy flashes his dimples at you. Your insides flood with warmth as you secretly bring the back of your hand up to feel your cheek, scared of its betrayal of your feelings.

Jaehyun sighs, content, after a few moments, his neck lolling at the joint to stargaze once again. He feels entirely relaxed at this moment; there’s nothing that Mother Nature can’t fix.

“History revolved around looking at the stars and just talking, you know? I wish I could stay here forever and never grow up.”

You tilt your head curiously.

“Why, you don’t like being an adult?”

“Not that,” he shakes his head. “It’s more of, I pretend to be collected and mature and all-knowing, but the feeling of having no control over life magnifies as I get older. My head and heart haven’t grown up fast enough to catch up.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t ever have to pretend. It’s… it’s okay to not know what you’re doing or what the future looks like, and it’s okay to let yourself go at times too. Being an adult doesn’t mean always knowing the right things to do or figuring out every little detail right now,” your words stumble a bit as they spill out, but he seems to catch onto every word perfectly. “I’m scared too, so it’s kinda ironic that I’m giving you this advice when I can’t follow it myself.”

“We can trade words of wisdom,” Jaehyun offers more lightheartedly. “It’s so much easier to give advice to other people than to yourself.” You can’t think of a better way to phrase it than that.

“And I think simply moving forward with what you can muster is the best we can do,” you add on. Jaehyun just stares at you as you talk, chin in his palm as he takes in your advice with sincerity. “Things will just come and go naturally as we go on.”

“You’re right. Time tells, Y/N. And frankly, you’re so much more mature than me.”

“Me?” You frown, surprised at the fact that he thinks you are. “That’s so strange to hear, because I feel like I’ll never be independent in the way that you and Tae are. Even though we’re not that far apart in age, I’ve always thought you guys were from a different galaxy, like fear wasn’t a word in your dictionary and maturity has always just come naturally.”

“It’s all in the way we carry ourselves, but maturity itself doesn’t come from this,” Jaehyun waves his hand around to outline your body in an imaginary circle, “but from this.” You watch as he taps a purposeful finger against your temple. “And you have more of it than anyone my age. You have a mind that people would die for, and I think that’s something to be very proud of.”

The wind whistles soundly as the two of you take in the world with new perspectives, sitting up a little straighter and legs just barely touching as he moves closer without even noticing. You don’t say anything for a while, and you don’t need to. He recognizes how you need a few minutes to let his words soak in, and that’s what makes you so you. Jaehyun knows you won’t just take his words on a whim and forget them ten minutes later; you’re the kind of person that internalizes everything he says with genuine feeling and gratefulness, and that quality is what makes you, in his opinion, celestial.

“You always know just what to say,” you finally whisper, and he almost doesn’t catch it.

You receive no reply except for the most adoring look in his eyes as he smiles fondly at you. The breeze blows wisps of your hair around your face, and Jaehyun can’t help it when he reaches out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. His fingers linger — longingly, if you dare say — before he makes himself pull away.

You’re scared to let yourself believe that you might have a chance this time; everything floods back and hits your heart at full power, and you think that your newfound connection you’ve found with the boy over this summer has trumped all of your past memories. Your feelings are fragile, and the way he looks at you is terrifying. He makes your heart race violently; your feelings from when you were fifteen don’t even compare.

“It’s too chilly for a summer month,” he speaks up suddenly, rubbing his arms and trying to lighten the mood. You shake your mind out of its storm of complicated emotions before offering a small smile back.

“Always speaking the truth, aren’t you?” You tease, playing with the hem of your short dress. Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement before a boyish grin stretches across his face.

“Yeah, which is why Leonardo DiCaprio is not—”

“—UH,” You stop him mid sentence, shushing him. “Let’s not finish that sentence.”

“—peak acting which is why—”

“La la la lala,” you sing, covering your ears with your hands childishly and squinting so that you don’t have to see Jaehyun raising an eyebrow at you, amused. “I can’t hear youu.”

“I take back the part about you being more mature than me.” Only one boy is capable of making your moods flip like this, and he’s sitting right next to you as your laughs ring out in tandem through the night.

Eventually, after a few more back-and-forths under the dark sky, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to teach you some astronomical terms. You doubt you’ll remember them, but he promises he’ll make it easy for you to hold in your mental library.

“You need to be prepared,” he stresses, “if you’re gonna come with me next time.”

“Next time… stargazing?”

“Yup,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Let’s see… there’s a triangle of importance in my opinion. The true triune, holy grail of astronomy.”

You watch him sink into his element, musing upon the milky way above.

“Stars,” he air-traces the Orion constellation slowly. “Moons,” he continues, moving his arm in front of you to point at the claw of the silver crescent moon. Jaehyun lets his hand fall, the tip of his finger grazing your skin in the slightest as it hovers in front of your heart. “And celestial bodies.”

…

You mentally prepare yourself to get an earful from Chaewon as the drive up to Johnny’s resumes…

…two hours late.

In your defense, it wasn’t completely your fault. Jaehyun says you can blame it on him when she throws her fit at you being late — and boy, do you know she will — but you also know that when you recount what happened to cause your tardiness, she’ll excuse it. Partially. Maybe even throw in a sushi dinner and smoke sesh, then all of your sins would be forgiven in her book.

You try to distract yourself from Jaehyun’s sweet actions just a few minutes earlier by thinking about where you might find Chaewon and Mark when you get there; maybe the drink-stocked kitchen, where Mark will surely be… or outside, where people like Chaewon usually go with their ziploc bags and scratched-up lighters.

Where would Jaehyun go?

You groan inwardly when you catch your brain drifting to the idea of the man next to you once again, said man driving with a dopey expression on his face as Johnny’s estate comes into full view. You can’t tell if it’s because of a well-needed down-time with the stars (and time with you, if you dare to think optimistically) or because it looks like there’s strobe lights flashing out of every window of the ground floor—

“—holy shit, they really went all out,” Jaehyun gapes, hands slacking on the steering wheel as you both take in the scene before you. “Johnny’s fucking insane. Maybe even like, should-be-checked-into-a-facility insane.”

Your eyes widen as the building unfurls itself before you, a mansion so grand that it’s comparable to Gatsby’s in every way. It’s got a certain vintage charm to it, something you assume Johnny’s parents built in homage to their roots with veiny, marbled stairs and towering Roman columns. The chaos that’s happening in and around the home itself, however, is a different story. You can see the drunk bodies already as they move around to invisible music, and waves of people climb spiral staircases up to the upper levels as they fumble drinks around. Silhouettes of the party-goers are littered across the vast, arched windows, stone trims decorating their sills with impeccable detail; the estate is truly a needle that shines brilliantly in a haystack of country homes, the nearest house being a whole 20 minute drive away. You’d been to his countryside home only once with Taeyong when you were younger, but seeing it in all its glory during the nighttime is a whole different experience.

“Nah,” you grin when he puts the car into park behind a train of assorted automobiles that cover the driveway. “He's that special kind of chaebol-insane. I propose not eating the rich, because what would the world be without Johnny Suh.”

Jaehyun simply chuckles lightly before getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door before helping you out. You’d be lying if you said that the butterflies in your stomach didn’t just seize at his actions.

But nothing good lasts forever.

Just as soon as the butterflies come, they die off when you notice the immediate, uncanny switch in Jaehyun’s disposition.

You’re not sure if it’s the deafening bass-boosted music flooding into the air or the multitude of bodies in front of the house alone as the two of you approach the open door, but he seems to be pushed into a different element the closer you get. You recognize it as the one that you’d only heard of in high school, the one who frequented house parties on school nights with your brother, the one who shone in a room full of people, the infamous heartbreaker Jaehyun.

You can see the shift in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate slowly as they gain that undeniable gleam. You can feel his muscles lose a tension you didn’t even know was there, especially when he swings his arm around your shoulders casually, letting his hand rest against your collarbone. You can hear the calls of his wicked name already from both females and males alike, their shouts pulling him away from you as multiple people are drawn to him right away.

You recognize a few of them, hometown names that make their presence known as they clap Jaehyun on the back and reach out for intoxicated hugs. It’s also now that you realize the sheer amount that the boy you practically grew up with — the very one who spent his school day afternoons playing in your living room — changes when with other people. His popularity was never a mystery to you, but seeing it in person like this… he acts like he’s finally at home. A true socialite who flourishes when surrounded by people.

And you would never hold that against anyone, except until—

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

Ah.

His voice rings out flippant and unfamiliar, arm slipping from your shoulders like deadweight, and his fingers don’t linger on your skin longingly this time. Without looking back, he’s swept away by a myriad of high school friends as they drag him off to only God knows where. They hand him drinks and jostle around with each other between heated bodies, his silver rings glinting under the lights as he throws his head back for a bitter shot.

You watch as their forms retreat into the depths of the party until the shadows swallow him up and your eyes can’t follow him anymore.

Left to hover awkwardly by yourself at the door of Johnny’s house with no drink in hand and a bewildered twist in your expression, suddenly, all the moments that have led up to now feel like a fever dream. Everything just happened so fast. One minute he’s next to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen again. Hard. And the next moment he’s gone with the wind, like a figment of a dream flickering in and out of consciousness. Sure, you hadn’t expected to spend the whole night with him, but you thought that after your many little talks he would want to stay with you a little longer than three seconds.

At least he promised to find you later, but you’re still left feeling unsure about where you stand with him in contrast to the bubbling feeling of affection you had felt earlier in the night. The way he acts is giving you emotional whiplash.

I have to find Chaewon and Mark, you think to yourself suddenly, trying to shake your head of Jaehyun-related thoughts. The way he’s plagued your thoughts far too many times these past few months terrifies you, and it feels like you’ve lost your mind for real this time. You’re charged with a new determination to not think about the boy until he comes back to you himself. It’s not worth ruining your night over maybe’s.

Weaving through sweaty figures and waving instinctually at the people who happen to recognize you, you find yourself in a sort of trance as you strain to catch a glimpse of one of your friends. The bass-boosted music fills your ears with a heavy buzz as you make your way through what feels like hundreds of people.

A cold hand abruptly reaches out to grasp your wrist when you approach the closed off kitchen, causing you to cautiously glance back at its owner with your other arm ready to push them off.

“Babe, what are you doing here all alone?”

You jump slightly before giving him a childish slap on his arm as a grinning Mark reaches out to embrace you, and the strong smell of twisted tea pungent on his breath. His hand comes up to tuck your head into his neck familiarly, an old habit from when you were young that tends to come out in his drunk endeavors.

“You scared me,” you mumble into his shirt, voice muffled by the fabric. “I was trying to find you, but there’s literally thirty million people in this damn house.”

Feigning hurt, Mark pulls away to put a hand to his heart. “You can’t recognize me from a house away?” His sarcasm makes you squint at him, your hand reaching out to tug him along with you.

“No, Mark. I actually can’t recognize you from a house away,” you bite back, mumbling an extra, “surprisingly too, because I could probably hear your loud-ass laugh from another country if I really wanted to.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Never. Come find Chaewon with me?”

“I-” Mark sighs, giving in to your pleading eyes. What can he say, he has a self-destructive soft spot for his best friend. “Fine. But only if you get her to play one of the drinking games with me, ‘cause you never want to,” he tsks. You offer him an innocent smile before turning towards the back balcony. Gripping Mark’s arm tightly as the two of you make your way through clusters of people, you glance back every so often to make sure he’s still with you. You don’t want to be left alone again.

Again. Like Jaehyun just did when he said he wanted to spend time with me…

He seems to sense your uneasiness when you pause for a moment to look down, the fluorescent lights that lead to the back glass doors making your eyes sting as your fingers tighten their grip on his wrist.

“Hey hey hey,” the boy pauses to move in front of you with worry creasing his brows. “You good?”

You blink away from him, mumbling an unsure “yeah,” before clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy for a sec.”

Mark puts his hands on your shoulders carefully, eyes scanning the way your face looks more apprehensive than usual and your head isn’t held just as high as the Y/N he knows would. He’s had almost his entire life to study your moods and the rises and falls of your expressions, and he knows that something heavy is bothering you to the point where you’re letting him see it bleed through your normal, carefree facade. It’s something serious, and he also knows you’re not gonna tell him until you’re ready.

So for now, he simply smooths down any invisible tensions in your arms and straightens your posture for you like he would in your younger school days, gentle and nimble fingers adjusting the straps of your dress like a parent figure would.

“I like this number on you. You should wear it more often.”

“Thank you,” you smile gratefully at him, forcing your feet to move forward once again. It's not unusual for Mark to compliment you, but it feels particularly comforting tonight after so much of your confidence in yourself has been built up and torn down in a matter of hours.

You don’t let your gaze take in anyone except a potential Chaewon as the two of you finally make it outside, scared of potentially seeing someone you don’t want to see. Out of the corner of your eye, Mark gestures animatedly to the lit up garden, far fewer people mingling in its flowering, winding paths than inside.

“Oh! Chaewon’s right there,” he pushes you lightly in her direction, a poised figure leaning, relaxed, on one of the ivy-slinked marble balconies. “I’m not gonna go far, but I’ll get some drinks from the kitchen for us and be right back, okay? I won’t leave you guys for long.” You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong, but whoever or whatever’s bothering you should feel ashamed for making you apologize for nothing,” he chastises immediately, indignant towards the fact he has an inkling of who’s made you feel this way. It pains him to see his best friend hurt silently.

You nod before he gives you one last pat and nudges you in the direction of Chaewon. She turns on her heel just as Mark leaves, face lighting up when she spots your form heading in her direction.

“Took you long enough!” She calls out over with a hand reaching out for you, her other occupied by a flute of some mysterious fizzy liquid. “I’ve been waiting so that we can try the colorful shots in Johnny’s fridge together. I know you secretly like those.”

You snap yourself out of your thoughts before managing a grateful smile as she pulls you into a side hug. “Sorry, the uh… drive took longer than anticipated,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Who’d you come with again? I feel so bad that we couldn’t pick you up, but the setup literally took the living energy out of me.”

You bite your lip nervously, eyes flicking to the night sky in reassurance.

“I came with— I came with Jaehyun,” you spit out quietly, already predicting her reaction in your head.

“Damn, for real? I told your brother to call one of your other friends, but this is so much better. Did you guys get time to talk or what?” Chaewon lifts her drink to her lips as she waits with wide eyes, anticipating an answer that you know you can’t give her. If anyone has always rooted for the possibility of him liking you back, it’s her.

“I don’t know,” you finally whisper, giving up as you tug your fingers through your hair. “It’s just… he’s a confusing person. Like yeah, we talked, but I can’t figure him out at all. He goes back and forth from being the closest I’ve ever felt to a boy to an almost distant stranger in a matter of seconds.”

Your friend’s face falls at your words, clearly noting how much you’re beginning to get stressed out over him. It kills her to see anything but a smile on your face, and the fact that it’s because of someone who you’ve pined over for so long is detrimental to watch.

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, probably.” Your voice cracks slightly in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real chance with him to begin with, so try not to expect much.” Chaewon’s bitter smile reflects her inner confliction as she reaches out to take your hand in hers.

“Stop, don’t think like that,” she mutters.

“But don’t worry, there’s still,” you whisper, putting your pointer finger and thumb up to approximate the size of the tiny moon in the sky above you, “a little hope. There’s always been.”

You nod to yourself, almost like a subtle reassurance. You’ve always had faith and confidence in your own feelings, and a little hope has never killed you. If anything, it’s brought you closer to Jaehyun than you’ve ever been, and getting to know him in ways that you were never able to has been a silver lining in itself. Just maybe… deep down, not in the way you know you wish you had.

“I love how you’re always been so sure of what you want,” Chaewon confesses. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “But tonight’s about having fun, okay? No use wasting time on a boy that can’t get his own shit straight.”

With a giggle, she pulls you towards the house once again. “I want to see you get wasted. His name is not allowed as far as I’m concerned.”

“Jaehyun’s name…?”

“Who?”

You shake your head with a smile as she feigns confusion with an innocent expression. I don’t deserve my friends, you think to yourself, heart warming at how much they try to make you feel better.

“Come on, Y/N. Look around at all the people,” she laughs out in the tone of a true socialite as she tugs you towards where most of the partygoers are congregated, littered across every corner with their short dresses and sweaty skin. Noticing that your mouth is still tinged with a hint of apprehensiveness, she stops in her tracks and turns to you. “You’re telling me that you’re gonna let him do this to you? This night is for us, not waiting for a stupid boy that’s had the chance of a decade to love on you, pretty girl.”

She fiddles with your dress and smoothing down its invisible wrinkles as you nod along with her, mind willing itself to focus on yourself and your friends instead of—

Right. He doesn’t exist right now.

“And you look so good right now that anyone would be stupid not to feel lucky for having your attention,” she affirms, shiny hair tumbling under fluorescent lights as she beams at you. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her, the comfort of her mere presence and consoling words making your heart burn.

“Love you, Chae. I think we should just date instead,” you mumble into her shoulder, her signature, bright laughter ringing out at your words.

Her eyes brighten even more when she spots Mark appearing back behind you with entire bottles of liquor in his hands.

“Where the hell did you get those, my god,” she ooh and aah’s at him as your face lights up at the appearance of the boy.

“Johnny’s hidden stash in one of the guest bedrooms. He thinks he’s slick,” he snorts, putting a finger up in a shushing motion when Chaewon gasps dramatically. When you giggle at your best friend’s antics, he turns to look at you with a hint of worry on his face.

You seem to have cheered up a bit since he left you to get drinks, but he also knows how good at hiding your true feelings you are. From poker faces to fake laughs, you’ve got it all under your belt. He just wishes you would just let go sometimes, but it’s understandable when he thinks about you as a person. It’s simply in your nature to be selfless, and ever since the two of you were young, you’ve never been one to bother anyone with your own worries. No wonder he’s worried as you crinkle your eyes in elation at him, a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

Glancing at Chaewon, she nods at him discreetly, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes. You’re okay now.

Letting out a short breath of relief, Mark loops his arm with yours before pulling you into the lion’s den of a party haven.

“Let’s get fucked up, hmm?”

…

You don’t know how much time has passed as you trudge through the garden with your heels in one hand, Chaewon’s fingers laced with yours in the other.

You’re sure it’s been at least three hours since you arrived. No, two. Maybe four?

To be honest, time isn’t even a concept in your book as you swing your arm with your friend’s, a drunken-dopey smile on your face as you relish the feeling of the dirt and grass against your bare skin.

Maybe you would’ve known when Mark had handed you the first shot, eyes flicking absentmindedly to the mounted clock in Johnny’s spacious living room — but you hadn’t cared enough then to figure out the numbers and read the time properly. In fact, you don’t think you were even thinking about anything except getting a bit of alcohol in your system. Forgetting was the first thing on your mind.

And boy, did everything spiral from there.

You recall vague bits here and there, from getting too close with familiar faces to being handed funky glasses with sparkly liquids. It was all a blur of overdue laughter and shots after shots, and you have to admit, completely letting loose for the first time in a while felt numbing in the most beautiful way.

You remember Mark drunkenly laying his head down in your lap at one point, tapping the hard liquor in your solo cup and mumbling a happy, “water fountain?” up at you. You weren’t seeing double just yet, but you certainly weren’t thinking straight enough either to comprehend his words fully. So, with absolutely no hesitation and a tipsy giggle, you poured the rest of the contents in your cup into his open mouth as carefully as you could (read: not careful at all). He had sat up with a cheeky smile, wiping the surprisingly dark, bloodred liquid from his bottom lip before it dribbled down and stained his skin.

Everything after that moment felt muggy, like a heavy blanket was wrapped around your head and knotted twice around your neck. You suppose that the alcohol added up at some point, pushing you past the point of clarity.

And suddenly now, you’re here. In the grass with Chaewon, doing only God knows what in a freezing night chill with your short dress and absence of a cozy summer jacket. You don’t even know how you got outside in the first place.

The cold air is good for you, however, as you can feel the blurriness start to fade away bit by bit. You’re not stumbling around as much anymore, but your grip on your friend’s hand is as tight as ever as you make your way through pretty flower bushes and onto a stone path.

“Oh no, someone dropped their phone,” Chaewon laments with exaggerated sadness — no doubt the alcohol talking — before leaning down to pick up the shiny device. Dusting it off with her fingers, she traces a frowny face into its glass, causing it to suddenly turn on.

“Jesus,” you squint into its blinding screen, mentally cursing the person who had the brightness turned all the way up and causing tiny white dots to appear in your vision. “What time is it?”

“You have eyes, look yourself,” Chaewon turns her head towards you dramatically, words slightly slurred as she throws you an unimpressed look. “But it’s 2:43 am. I can’t believe we’re still conscious.”

You groan, rubbing lightly at your eye before she’s talking again, swaying slightly as she speaks. Letting your gaze wander, you let yourself linger on the few people either passed out on messy lawn chairs or calling their friends for late night rides. Some are standing around like you and Chae, heads hanging down and clearly not in their best condition. There’s people with their arms thrown over the shoulders of their friends too, providing obvious support for their less coherent counterparts.

A couple half hidden behind the edge of the balcony catches your eye, your muggy mind inwardly gushing at how cute they are. You want a relationship like that. Their figures are hidden by the shadows of the house, but you can still see how the boy holds her forearm with care as he leans against the stones with her, head tilted impossibly close to the girl’s to display his full attention on whatever she’s telling him through her hushed whispers.

“—it’s okay ‘cause we’re sleeping over at Johnny’s tonight anyway. And, he has like a thousand guest bedrooms so we can choose any one of them—”

The couple lean into the wall more, the light repositioning as they shift their bodies closer, obviously very comfortable with each other. The girl moves further into the light, shiny hair catching onto the glow as she turns in place. He chases her movements, following her into the beam of the balcony lights as their faces are lit up under the sudden absence of shade.

You breathe out.

No way.

“—and I’ve always wanted to stay at Johnny’s and experience that rich kid life, you know? I wonder what it’s like to—”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You think that your heartbeat physically stops as you take in the scene before you. Like a thin arrow slicing right through the flesh and tissue of your heart, and it’s violently humbling. Bruising, even.

Stop.

There’s Saemi. And there’s Jeong Jaehyun too in all his glory, looking at her with the stars glittering in his eyes as she tilts her head up towards him.

Your mind goes blank.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

That was what, four hours ago?

Ha.

You sober up immediately, like your head has just just been ruthlessly plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Like God himself is telling you to face the fucking music and come back down to reality. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can even hear your soul shattering, its pieces clattering down and settling at the bottom of your stomach because you actually feel like you might throw up.

I should’ve known, is the phrase that repeats like a mantra in your head, manically getting louder and louder as you blink in pain. Your eyes refuse to leave them for some reason, watching the way his hand comes up to rest on the junction between her neck and shoulder with a delicate touch.

A bitter taste floods your mouth. You feel like you’re playing a one-sided game of push and pull, and it’s worn you out; it’s not disappointment, or even jealousy that fills your body, but fatigue. It’s tiring to let yourself hope, and then get let down time after time and you feel stupid. Disgusted at yourself, even, for attempting to appeal to a boy who had never given you the time of day in the past even though everyone was aware of how blatantly obvious your crush on him was.

You’ve always prided yourself on how true to your own character you are, but in this moment, you feel like a child watching real adults in the real world. Two years' age difference isn’t much in retrospect, but at this moment, Lim Saemi seems like a whole generation above you. Her maturity shines through every part of her — from her gait to the way she dresses to the way she leans into Jaehyun — and you can’t help but let your worst insecurity get to you as they get impossibly closer.

It hurts, because he’s not even mine.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You don’t answer.

And when the soft plush of his lips come down to place a gentle kiss against her forehead, you decide that you’ve seen enough.

…

Your mouth feels like paper, your head feels like it’s about to split open, and you feel like shit.

Blearily blinking one eye open and then immediately shutting it after getting a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling, you groan out loud before stuffing your face into your arm.

Somehow, the little bit of willpower left in you forces your body to get off of the bed you’re on, stumble through the darkness (you think you accidentally trip over a stray body on the ground too), and feel your way to the hallway. Your brain has completely shut off, but you’re also fucking parched and nothing will get in the way of you and water right now.

Your feet miraculously lead you to the empty expanse of Johnny’s kitchen, little sunlight reaching its pristine tiles at such an early hour. Glancing at the red clock numbers on the oven, you blanch when it displays a mocking 6:04am. You’re lucky that your hangovers don’t hit too hard. Pouring yourself a glass of water, you can finally swallow and lean back against the counter in relief as you take a deep breath.

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when everything hits you.

You almost choke on your water as your mind pulls last night from the depths of its sleepiness, from the drinking to the unwanted feelings to the sensation of blacking out. You remember it all.

Taeyong taking a body shot in front of you (scarred). Johnny making out with one of your close school friends in front of you (scarred x2). Mark handing you drink after drink. Chaewon leading you into the garden for fresh air. And… and seeing the boy you like with a girl you thought he had nothing to do with anymore.

Like a floodgate of torturous memories, your mind automatically replays every little interaction without warning as you throw your head back against a cabinet in regret. It’s as if you have no control over what you get reminded of and what you don’t, because of course, the first thing that flashes before you is the feeling you felt when you saw Jeong Jaehyun in the courtyard.

His arm wrapped around the shoulder of Saemi’s as your best friend desperately vied for your attention, the girl finally following your line of sight to eventually see the scene you were watching in chilling silence. And Chaewon had noticed it all, from the way he smiled down at her to the very moment he looked up in your direction.

“Y/N…” she had whispered, the pity clear in her tone. You’d turned your head away quickly, not wanting her to see the tears gathering on your lash-line, but she couldn’t help but notice the way you reached up to wipe them away. Your body had gone into autodrive, quickly moving to the side to get away from the two as fast as you could. Chaewon reached out for you before turning back to glare at Jaehyun, surprised to see him already staring right at you.

He seemed unfairly distraught and guilty in her eyes, his gaze conflicted as his hands fell from Saemi’s face in a flash and hovered in the air in shock. A few seconds later and he snapped out of it, leaving her standing alone and rushing over in your direction, seemingly trying to reach you before you got lost in the mass of people inside the mansion.

As he passed Chaewon’s lingering form, her hand flew out to latch onto his shoulder.

Shaking her head at him — as if saying, you lost your chance ages ago — it was then that she truly felt awful about the inner turmoil her best friend was constantly subjected to when liking a boy like that.

Wincing, you press a cheek to the cold marble countertop of the kitchen as all of your thoughts flitter through your consciousness at once. You wish the dull throbbing in your head would stop, and even thinking about it makes you shift uncomfortably in place, itching to just get outside and clear your mind with fresh air.

Fuck it, you decide, no one’s awake anyway. I need to get away, even if it's only for a few moments.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you finish your water before heading out. There’s an unusual smell of artificial roses as you move through the hallways and descend the grand staircase; it’s eerie to walk in a silent house, all of the hallways dark and stoic. Johnny’s mansion looks like a mini natural disaster with the way decorations and bottles are strewn across its marble floors, almost like savages making use of a castle. It’s like a presentation of physical evidence of what took place last night.

Finally making it outside into the crisp morning air, you relish in the chirping of the songbirds and empty expanse of a dew-tipped garden. Taking a deep breath, you shiver slightly before heading down a small hill behind the garden. You recall there being a lake behind the property that Taeyong and Johnny used to bring you to when you were younger, one with a small dock that retreated far enough into the water that you could be alone without having the urge to constantly look towards the house again.

You don’t expect anyone to be awake — or even outside — this early, but it comes as a surprise when you almost trip over a figure sitting on the bottom-most stone step. Putting a hand to your heart, your eyes widen as they turn to look up at you.

“Oh… hi. I didn’t expect anyone would be awake this early.”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “So I’m going down to the dock…”

“Ah. I see… um. You- you wouldn’t mind if I joined you, right?”

…

Life is funny sometimes.

As you swing your legs gently above the light waves, you can’t help but think about the irony of the situation you’re in. You bite your lip before turning to the person next to you, their knees pulled up to their chest as they stare out into the water.

“Saemi…”

The girl turns to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she reaches out for your hand.

Lim Saemi takes your fingers between hers before letting out a deep sigh, the talkative persona she normally holds, gone, as she looks between each of your eyes. The hesitance between the two of you is awkward in a way. You’ve never had a full conversation with her and you’ve always assumed things about her based off of others’ recountings, but she couldn’t be more different now.

The little imaginary devil on your shoulder shakes her pitchfork at you, as if saying, “you should be hating her, remember?”

You look down to hide your slight frown.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” she starts, voice tentative and slow as she purses her lips in contemplation. You still. Nodding your head, you let her move closer to you on the wooden planks of the dock before she makes eye contact with you again.

“You know, sometimes it scares me how alike you and Taeyong look. It’s like staring into a mirror image, and I feel like I see memories in you that I associate with your brother.”

You cock your head at her words. “...we’re pretty similar people too, I think,” you whisper back, an automatic smile reaching your face as your mind finds its own way to him.

“I think so too,” she grins. “Actually, Taeyong and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s always speaked of you so fondly that I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting you. I would see glimpses of you here and there, and he would constantly mention his baby sister and how much he worried about her. He was the best older brother, and anyone could see it.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Yet he treats his friends the very same way, with the same adoration and care. It doesn’t matter how much Taeyong will grow in the future with his escalating popularity and growing talent in music, he’ll always have the kindest soul in my eyes. I’m genuinely so thankful for him, Y/N.”

To hear someone speak about your brother like that triggers an emotion in you that you didn’t even know you had, gaze curious as you wait for her to continue.

“I don’t really know how to start this conversation to be honest, but- I bet you know how hard high school is.” You nod, grimacing at all of the particular more negative memories you have. “You’re balancing on that fine line between feeling too adult to be in school and feeling too childish to live your own life yet, and I, for one, most definitely didn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change in my social and academic surroundings. I think I changed physically a lot then, too. My face, my body, everything. I started morphing into someone that I couldn’t recognize in the mirror, and I came to the realization that boys liked me first for my appearance, not my personality. And… and you know what I regret the most? I learned how to use my body as a weapon.”

“I learned how to change the way I talk, how to talk to boys so that I could get them to do what I want, and suddenly, everything changed even faster. People flocked to me, which is what I had always secretly wanted, but the person that they wanted wasn’t me. I had flown a bit too close to the sun and now I was stuck with this facade that I couldn’t get rid of. It was never just ‘Saemi,’ I was always simply the object of their desires, something to be acquired. And I had brought it upon myself.”

Recalling the Saemi you knew and recognized in high school, you have a bit more of an understanding of her now. She held up a front in order to protect herself, and as a result, she lost touch with her own self. Your heart hurts for her as you hesitate to reach out and offer comfort.

“Your brother was the first one who understood me right away. We met in detention during our second to last year, and he saw right through me in the first ten minutes. Sat me down in the teacher’s empty chair and told me that I was a bitch for breaking one of his friend’s hearts.” She closes her eyes as she recalls that very afternoon. “Taeyong gave it to me plain and straight that day: I shouldn’t have promised false love to so many boys if I wasn’t planning to give it in the first place. Your brother may have been a player too, but the boundaries he always set with his girls made him a thousand times better than I was.”

You place your hand on hers, Saemi giving you a grateful smile in return.

“I thought hard about myself and my decisions after that, and I decided that if I wanted to enjoy the last years of my secondary schooling, I needed to take back control of my own actions. After I apologized to his friend, he offered me genuine friendship in the weeks following, one without the jealousy and lust that I was always caught up in before. I had always been surrounded with so much toxicity, and he was able to pull me out of it so easily that I finally felt seen for the first time.”

She pauses, glancing at you briefly before staring up at the sky.

“That was also… the first time I met Jaehyun.”

You shift, staring down at your shoe laces as they sway lightly with the wind.

Ah, you smile sadly to yourself. We’ve gotten to this part of the story.

“Your brother brought me along with him one day to one of his parties, and I had truly never been enamored with a boy that quickly before.”

You can tell that Saemi’s choosing her words carefully with you, and they hit a lot harder when you relate to what she’s saying. You’re certainly no stranger to his charm.

“We started talking that night and Jaehyun had somehow broken down all of the walls I had carefully built up within the first month of knowing each other. It was new for me. My personal mantra had always followed the lines of, ‘if they like what they see and feel, I might as well use it to my advantage.’ But it was different with him. I didn’t want us to be a one time thing, and I certainly did not want him to think of me as something who couldn’t do that kind of serious relationship shit. I wanted him to like me so badly without thinking about if I had genuine feelings towards him in the first place.”

She takes another deep breath, as if she’s collecting her thoughts, before leaning forward with an airy laugh and sadness clear in her eyes.

“Have you ever mistaken love for dependency, Y/N?”

Have you?

You think back to all the people you’ve liked throughout your teenage years, ranging from hallway crushes to… well- Jaehyun. Your pupils dart to the water as you think about the idea of depending on a person. Do I depend on the people I like, or do I know when to distance myself?

You shake your head.

“Jaehyun and I… we jumped into everything too quickly. It wasn’t even a right person, wrong time situation; we simply weren’t ready. We tried putting our all into this lone spark that we felt without stepping back and really looking at our relationship.” She stops to observe the rising sun above the lake, its golden reflection casting a healthy glow on her skin. Saemi’s beautiful like this, her feelings bare and raw before you as she lays out her emotions so vulnerably.

“I guess I never really loved Jaehyun in the way he loved me. He was looking for something tender and real, and younger me was not in the capacity to give that to him. I tried to convince myself every single fucking day that I liked him in that way, but even I knew deep down that my I would never convince myself. I still had this lingering, detrimental mentality of seeing boys as something I could win over, and my fascination with him intertwined with that in ugly ways.”

Saemi’s face falls a little before she takes both of your hands in hers, eyes sincere as she peers at you.

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because… I saw you,” she whispers carefully, watching your reaction. “Last night. When Jaehyun and I were together in the garden… I saw you watching before you walked away.”

Your heart drops as you look down at her hands holding yours so carefully, her pretty fingers encompassing your wrist as you unwillingly recall the worst emotions you had felt in a while.

She saw.

You only manage to get out a small, “oh,” before she squeezes your hand reassuringly.

“Hey hey hey, look at me,” she leans down slightly to put herself at eye level with you. The edges of her lips quirk up in the slightest, her hair falling elegantly against her face as the wind picks it up and puts it back down again. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Why? Because all those years ago, Jaehyun misunderstood, and I misunderstood, and it was all of these assumptions and forced feelings that drove our relationship to its grave. We were shit at communicating with each other properly, and that eventually hurt both of us too deeply to heal the right way.”

You nod at her hesitantly, taking in what she’s saying with a newfound understanding. Saemi sighs before smiling again at you.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people in the past,” she says, forlorn, her eyes crinkled as she sniffs in the cold of the morning. “And I never got the chance to apologize to them properly. But last night, I finally worked up the confidence to revisit our high school days with Jaehyun.” She stops, leaning back onto the dock with her hands behind her. Her eyes close as she soaks in the morning sun, and you can’t help but mirror the position as your heart warms for her. “We finally got our much needed closure last night, and I was feeling a bit down afterwards so he was simply comforting me. And I won’t weigh you down with all the nitty gritty details, but we were able to see our ending all the way through without letting our emotions get in the way.”

You can’t help but reach out and hug the girl, your arms wrapping comfortably around her shoulders to express your awe and gratitude. With a little noise of surprise, Saemi pauses for a few seconds before embracing you back. Everything makes more sense now, and you can’t help but feel a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions so easily.

“I’m so grateful that you shared all that with me,” you mumble into her shirt, her chuckle ringing out into the lake as she rubs your back like an older sister would.

“Of course. If anyone deserved to hear all of this, it would be you.”

“Why?”

Saemi snorts, pulling back from your hug before lifting an eyebrow at you.

“Oh please, Y/N, you should see Jaehyun from everyone else’s eyes. We can all see the way he looks at you.” Your mouth drops open slightly, tilting your head in confusion.

“He looks at me a certain way?”

“God, I have never met two more stupid people in my lifetime,” she groans, bringing her fingers up to her temple. “And I say this lovingly, of course.”

With a fond look on her face, she nudges your shoulder. “But I’m really glad Jaehyun has someone like you.”

You bashfully look down at the water, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks at her words. You were never 100% sure of where you stood with him, but that familiar feeling of hope has started to creep up once again. Could I go through that again, though? That same push and pull?

Seeming to sense your sudden aversion, Saemi loops her arm through yours in one smooth motion and sets your hand in her lap.

“Hey. Promise me you’ll go talk to him?”

You hesitate to reply, mouth dry as you think about everything she’s poured out to you. You think about your own feelings, and you think about the possibility of having something more with Jaehyun. You think about his history with Saemi, and how this issue of communication has ruined your confidence so many times. But what is it all worth if you don’t try?

With a slow nod, you offer her a reassuring smile before dusting off your clothes and standing up. “Promise.”

Saemi grins at you.

“That’s my girl.”

“Jaehyun?” she asks, putting a hand out on his arm as he looks behind her, distressed. She’s never seen him like this, a nervous jitter in his hands as his eyes dart around at the scene behind them.

Turning around, she just manages to catch a glimpse of a girl rushing towards the back of the house, her head downturned but not masking the obvious face of discomfort in her features. Her friend turns around to glare at them before following close after.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, chewing on his lip as he hesitates to run after your escaping form. “I fucked up so bad, Saemi.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he lets out a noise of exasperation as he watches you get farther and farther away.

“What?”

“She’s leaving, Saemi. What do I do, what do I do,” he mumbles under his breath. “I just know she’s gonna think I hurt her on purpose. I always fuck it up somehow.”

“Woah, let’s breathe first,” she holds him steady at the shoulders, grip strong as she turns his body to face hers. “Breathe slowly.”

After a few panicked breaths, he looks back at her and attempts to inhale at a slower pace. A few seconds pass and he’s calmed down already, but a worried crease still flits across his features nonetheless.

“Listen to me, Jaehyun. Don’t leave her in the dark.”

His body loses tension bit by bit as he nods back a little, a heavy look in his eyes.

“We both know how that feels, better than anyone.”

…

Twenty-three missed calls.

That’s how many you’ve accumulated over one day.

You do the math on your bedroom ceiling as you lay splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. Each glow-in-the-dark, plastic star represents a missed call, and they swim across your vision as you point up at them with your hand to count them.

There’s seven from Mark, another seven from Chaewon, four from Taeyong, one from Johnny, and the remaining four? Mentally moving the glowing stars across the solar system of the ceiling, you pick four of the brightest glowing stars before keeping them hidden in a little group at the corner of your eye.

4 missed calls from Jeong Jaehyun, your phone reads from beside you on the mattress, the screen habitually lighting up throughout the day.

Your hand itches to grab it and just call him like you so desperately want to, but you exercise self-restraint as you roll over and stuff your face into your pillow. It’s unfairly hot tonight — the sticky, humid type — and being surrounded by all of your fluffy blankets and pillows does nothing to help your condition, but you don’t want to move out of your room. Letting out a muffled scream into the fabric, you groan to yourself when you realize that all of the problems floating around in your head won’t just magically disappear.

A normal Sunday would have gone like this: waking up mid afternoon with an abnormally large appetite, eating the entire contents of your kitchen to your heart’s content, and then going back to bed. Unfortunately, today was a bit different.

For the entire day, you’ve been busy. Busy thinking.

You had quickly left Johnny’s estate after your talk with Saemi early in the morning, borrowing one of Johnny’s cars from his garage and leaving him a little note that you’d return it soon (to be honest, you doubt that he’ll even notice). You’ve been in your room ever since.

With your eyes trained out the window, your record player ran through entire sets of albums as you lay on your bed in contemplation for the entirety of the afternoon. The fan in your room barely kept you cool as it picked up the fabric of your sundress every few minutes, marking another block of time that had gone by without you getting up and doing something about your position.

You let out a humph before throwing an arm over your eyes and retreating back into deep thought.

I’ve been distancing myself from him the entire day, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do, right? I’m turning into exactly what Saemi warned me not to.

Biting your lip, you turn your body over to stare at your motionless phone. But what should I do?

In a single impulsive movement, you reach out to grab the device before you can change your mind. Your fingers lead you to your contacts before your brain can catch up.

You can’t even fully register what you’ve just done, but Jaehyun’s name flashing across your screen certainly makes it all very much real, your phone waiting for him to pick up on the other side of the line. Your face gets hotter and hotter as the seconds tick on, the beeping of a no-caller reply heightening your nerves.

Finally, with a little click from your hand, he picks up. Your eyes widen. You really didn’t really think this through; now you had to actually talk to him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun sounds out, his voice breathless. “I- are you okay?”

“Yeah.” At least I think I am, you add on to yourself, grimacing. “Um… are you free today?”

“Am- am I free today? Yes! I mean yes, yes I’m free today.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he trips over his words a bit, his nervousness bleeding over your speaker.

“Well then, rooftop at mine at 10?”

“For real?” Jaehyun exclaims, checking the time on his alarm clock. That’s in twenty minutes. “Wait, I’ll be there. I promise.”

And with that, the two of you hang up with a million unspoken words and unfinished sentences. You let out the breath you were holding in, because you genuinely thought you would pass out when you heard Jaehyun’s voice again after finding out all that you did. Throwing yourself against your bed, you let yourself indulge in your feeling of hope again.

“He’ll be here,” you sigh in happiness to yourself. You relax into your pillows before springing up immediately, a look of horror taking over your face. “Oh my god, he’ll be here.”

Rushing around your room with a newfound energy, you make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed (although you technically did just roll out of bed, but he doesn’t have to know that) before unlatching the window of your bedroom and carefully climbing out onto your roof.

It’s well past dusk now, and the sky is abnormally clear with not a single cloud in sight. The moon shines brilliantly in its place as it casts an eerie glow on the panels you’re sitting on, their bumpy texture making it seem like the material is constantly shifting.

You let yourself go for a moment, resting your head in the palms of your heads before staring out at the roofs of your city. They create a complex, urban terrain: a mix of timely balconies and rooftop gardens, orange lanterns and fairy lights alike.

The beeping of a car horn brings you out of your daze. Peering down into the street below you, a familiar, classy black car is visible through all of the telephone lines.

Okay Y/N, deep breaths.

Jaehyun gets out of the front seat, immediately looking up in hopes of catching a glimpse of you before you notice he’s there. However, when his eyes follow the length of your house up, he finds that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous in his life. With cold hands, he lifts himself onto the electrical box beside your house before climbing up onto the slope of the roof, climbing over to you with an uneasy smile on his face.

“Hey.”

You tuck your chin into your arms, leaning forward to look at him curiously. “You could’ve taken the window, you know, but that works too.”

“What’s life without any risks, hm?”

As he settles himself, you can’t help but think that there’s a double lining to his words. “That’s the most Jaehyun-esque thing I’ve ever heard.”

His laugh warms your heart in a way you didn't know it could.

The first few moments are quiet, just two pairs of eyes looking up at the stars before Jaehyun breaks the silence with a small cough.

“We got lucky, there’s no clouds tonight. Pure stars.” You look over in his general direction, his gaze not even directed towards the sky anymore.

He pauses, so you turn and happen to meet eyes at the same time. Both of you open your mouths to talk, prompted by the invisible tension between you.

“Let me just say that—“

“I just wanted to tell you—“ he starts at the same time you do, eyes widening when you both go quiet once again. “You go first.” Giving him a grateful smile, you think a bit about how to express yourself before twisting your body completely so that you’re facing him.

“I just wanted to apologize first,” you start, holding up a hand when Jaehyun starts to protest. “Wait. I really want to tell you this before I get too nervous to.”

“I know everyone was worried when I went kinda off the grid this morning, but I needed some time alone with my thoughts. I shouldn't have ignored you like that, especially when things seemed so off between us. This is really hard to say to your face but,” you glance away from him as he waits patiently for you, “I always feel this rush of different emotions whenever I’m around you. And sometimes it��s confusing, but other times—“ stopping to exhale, you notice Jaehyun’s grin from the corner of your eye.

“Hey, why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious right now,” you whine. He simply puts his hand up to his mouth to hide the elated expression on his face.

“You’re just too cute, that’s all,” he replies adoringly, his eyes creasing behind his hand.

“I can’t take this,” you mutter in embarrassment, stuffing your face into your arm to hide the blush of your cheeks. “See! Stuff like that. You make me experience, like, thirty different emotions at once.”

He simply giggles at you, throwing out a little “my bad,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You nudge him in the arm.

“Sorry sorry, Y/N. Wait, I’ll be serious now.”

Both of you taking deep breaths, you put your hand up to your heart to calm its erratic beating as Jaehyun composes his expression back to normal.

“I really wanted to apologize too.”

You glance at him in surprise as the words leave his mouth, sincere and heavy.

“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, and I recognize how confusing it must have been for you to watch me constantly go back and forth between different personas. Honestly, being back home forced me to face the people here, and suddenly I was thrown into this internal conflict between my high school life and my present self. That’s still no excuse for how many mixed signals I gave you these past few months, but I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”

Reaching out to brush a small leaf off your shoulder, his hand trails down your arm until he’s taken your hand in his. You can tell how much he means it by the way he’s looking at you — like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes. You think that you finally see a replication of how you look at him yourself; after all, it’s being reflected back to you right now.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you can tell, but I really like you,” he whispers, bringing your hand up to his chest. He wants you to feel how much his nerves are racing just as fast as yours.

You think that your heart just about stops. You’ve dreamt of this moment since you were younger, and now that it’s finally coming to life, it’s unreal to think that he feels the same.

“I think you know how I feel,” you reply back quietly, looking down at your hands entwined with his.

“Say it?” he asks with a pleading face, the corners of his lips quirking up when you roll your eyes.

“Jeong Jaehyun, do you really think I believe that you didn’t know that I’ve liked you ever since we were kids?” Shaking his head innocently at your suspicion, he pouts in a manner that’s very unlike him.

“Fine,” you give up, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I like you Jaehyun, I like you so much that you don’t even know how happy I am right now.”

“Oh, I know. Come here,” he scoots over before tapping the side of his shoulder with his finger. Not getting the memo, you tilt your head inquisitively before he reaches over himself and puts your head on his shoulder himself. If your heart was skipping beats before, it’s probably failing to beat at all now.

“I want you to trust me,” he murmurs under his breath, his grip tightening on your hand. “I know I don’t have the best track record right now, but I’ll prove to you how much I like you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You don’t have to prove anything…“ You wholeheartedly believe and trust in his feelings, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, you decide to humor him and raise an eyebrow prompting him to go on.

“Wait, you’ll do anything?” You ask, looking up at the stars to hide your telling grin.

“Anything. Even suffer through another one of those awful DiCaprio movies.”

“Suffer?” you exclaim, your head lifting off of his shoulder with his words.

“Shit- no no not suffer. Who said suffer? You must’ve misheard me, I most definitely said enjoy.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jeong.”

He snorts at your threatening expression, an arm snaking behind you to wrap around your waist protectively.

Turning his head to look down at you, you’re met with his nose almost touching yours. You can see every eyelash, every freckle adorning his skin as neither of you make the motion to move away.

Jaehyun loses his breath at the sight of you so close. He keeps his teasing eyes on yours before taking that extra step forward to bump your noses together. Glancing down at your lips, he steadies himself so that his voice can sound as confident as he envisions it in his head.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Jaehyun.”

With your consent, he pulls you forward by the waist before slotting your lips together carefully. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure at which he’s holding you, or the fact that you’ve waited for this moment for almost your entire youth, but kissing Jaehyun is glorious.

He moves a hand up to cup the back of your neck before pushing forward impossibly closer, tucking your hair behind your ear in one smooth motion as his mouth moves in tandem with yours.

You make a noise of surprise when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving you a little nip before licking over the skin carefully. The passion and lust that seeps through his tongue is made clear as the minutes pass, and your reactions only spur him on.

Th mix of his skin on yours burning its way across your body and the delicacy at which he touches you makes your heart alight for a completely different reason. Threading your fingers through his hair, you're delighted to find that that particular motion makes him shudder under your hands, and kiss you more like his life depends on it.

After a while of marking each other's skin and exchanging sweet nothings between his kisses, you tap his chest to pull apart for air, your breathless mien making him grin smugly.

“I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

…

The rings on your fingers clink with his as you hand him a metal camping cup, its silver surface hot to the touch even at night. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you laugh when you catch his skeptical expression.

“The hell is this…” he asks in borderline horror as the liquid in his cup sloshes around.

“Mark’s gonna love hearing that,” you remark, putting your own cup to your lips as you bring your knees to your chest.

It’s the most comfortable when you’re with Jaehyun like this, sitting on the hood of his car in the dead of the night to stargaze into the early hours of the morning.

It’s been a few weeks since that night on the rooftop, and you’ve never felt more alive. From long drives with Taeyong to mini adventures with Mark, and from jukebox diners with Chaewon and constellation hunting with Jaehyun, you finally feel at home in a place you’re about to leave. University is close on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spend your last free evenings with the people you love the most.

“Is this your recipe?” Jaehyun asks, pulling up your legs so that they rest over his lap. You shake your head with a cheeky smile.

“Stole it,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at the distinct smell.

“And what did Mark’s creative ass come up with this time,” he laments back, taking your cup to compare it with his in confusion.

“Our cups hold the same exact thing, Jaehyun. I didn’t secretly poison your drink if that’s what you’re thinking, and I know you are.” You take back your cup before taking another sip and taking a little piece of paper out of your pocket to read from. “But anyway, it's ‘orange liquor, orange juice, lime juice, maple syrup, sliced jalapeño, and agave blanco sugar in the rim.’ You can steal the recipe too, but don't tell him that I gave it to you. He’d murder me.”

“Mm,” he muses, nuzzling into your neck. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend dead.”

You freeze in mid-air, mind turning the title over and over again in your head. “Girlfriend?”

Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking at you with the most mortified expression on his face. “Fuck, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, did I?”

With a small giggle at his antics, you simply lean against him and pat his arm in consolation. “It’s okay, I don’t need a label to know how you feel about me.” Jaehyun hums contently before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, your delighted shriek ringing out as he pulls you down with him and falls back against the metal roof of the car.

“Can we just stay like this forever?”

You sigh in satisfaction as your body follows the rises and falls of his chest. The stars above seem to blink happily at the two of you as they make their way across the sky, the little, twinkling lights of overpassing planes highlighting their presence.

Intertwining your fingers with his, he gently kisses the side of your face before closing his eyes.

Even if the two of you hadn’t realized it yet, it had always been like this: two childish souls crafting the idea of mature love. Two blooming young adults, with fizzing feelings and cherry picked lips, daring to love one another like the grownups in black and white colored movies.

Your summers are defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner. They’re tinged with the taste of Mark’s special drinks and Chaewon’s sweet words, with Taeyong’s cheery voice ringing out throughout your house and your parents’ weekly sitcom reruns. And most of all, summers are made of Jaehyun’s lavender cologne and the way he holds you close when you need it the most.

“Don’t be surprised if the moon calls you by name, Y/N, because I tell her about you all the time.”

…

<3 you can find their character profiles HERE.

[ for Y/N, mark, chaewon, jaehyun, taeyong, and saemi ]

…

xoxo

2K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 6 months ago

Text

Indecent Proposal (18)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, polyamory, mentions of past partners/affairs, mentions of suicide, mentions of accidents

Indecent Proposal (17.2)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“My show,” Jake grins. He adjusts his glasses and clears his throat. This is the moment he’s been waiting for. He dreamed of becoming a permanent member of their crew. Jake knows this is his only chance to prove his worth.

“Jensen, we don’t have all day!” Bucky grunts. He can’t wait to get back to you, and the babies in your belly.

“Alright!” Jensen grumbles. “Rumlow is damn good at hiding his secrets. There’s not much I found out about him until I dug a little deeper…or a fucking lot deeper.”

“Jake, we are losing our patience here. Did you find something or not!” Steve slams his fist onto the table. “We need to know everything about him!”

“Do you remember a woman called Dolores Donovan?” Jake dips his head to watch Bucky’s reaction. The mobster wrinkles his forehead.

“She was one of our lovers,” Steve helps his husband out. “I think it was three or four years ago. She was a little too clingy and wanted you all for herself.”

“Oh,” Bucky nods. “That one.” He frowns deeply, recalling their last encounter with Dolores. “Didn’t she try to stab you?”

“Yup,” Steve laughs. “She wanted me dead because I was the one keeping you from falling deeply in love with her. I barely made it out alive.”

Bucky deadpans. “Steve don’t be a baby about it. She used a nail file, not a deadly weapon!”

Jake watches the two men bicker about nail files and her past lover. They laugh and joke while he tries to get their attention. “Guys, you wanted answers. Do you still want them, or can I go home?”

“Huh-sure,” Bucky clears his throat. “Go ahead. Tell us more. Why did you mention Dolores? We haven’t heard of her for years. She stabbed Stevie and left town.”

“She didn’t leave town,” Jake points at the manila folder on the desk. “Dolores drove too fast and rammed a tree. She was dead before the ambulance arrived. According to the police report, she rammed the tree on purpose.”

“Suicide?” Steve wonders. “Why? Because Bucky didn’t want to run away with her? We told her from the beginning that our affair would only ever be physical. Back then, we weren’t looking for a permanent third.”

“Well, I can’t tell you about her reasons, only what the police report says,” Jake opens the manila folder to show Steve and Bucky a picture of Dolores, their former lover. “She was a pretty girl. I get that Brock Rumlow was obsessed with her.”

“Rumlow???” Bucky and Steve say in unison. They look at each other and then at Jake. “What has that bastard to do with Dolores? He wasn’t even in town when we had an affair with her. She was just another girl we fucked.”

“He was her ex-fiancé. I told you that I tried to find out more about his past,” Jake huffs as it seems they do not appreciate his hard work. “According to my investigations, Dolores left him and the sleepy little town they lived in to find a new life in the big town.”

“Let me guess,” Steve sighs deeply. “He heard about the accident and came here to find out what happened. Rumlow read the police report and knew something must’ve happened. He decided then, that it was our fault because she couldn’t handle a sex-only relationship.”

“You summed it up,” Jake nods, and points at the next pictures. Pictures of Rumlow and Dolores before she left him. They are both smiling and look happy. “I guess he snooped around and found out that you and his ex-fiancé had an affair. He counted one and one and decided it was your fault she died.”

“If you look at it from his side, he’s not wrong,” Steve sighs deeply. “If anything happened to you or Y/N because of some guy, I’d kill them too.”

“Steve, we told her that we only want to fuck her,” Bucky yells now. He shoves the manila folder off the desk and sneers. “I’m sorry that she couldn’t handle the end of our arrangement, but she could’ve walked away that first night. We didn’t drag her out of the club and into our bed.”

“Buck—”

“It’s true! Woman. Men. They are all over us all the time,” he’s not done. Bucky grits his teeth and snarls. “If they agree to become our plaything, they know what they get themselves into. We never made any promises.”

“We made promises to Y/N,” Steve softly says. Bucky barely loses his composure, but if he does, he’s almost feral.”

“And I intend on keeping every single one, Stevie,” he narrows his eyes. “I hope you want to keep them too.”

“Of course!” Steve hastily says. “I’d never abandon Y/N.”

Bucky pants heavily. Steve must run his hand over his husband’s back to calm him. “I’m sorry Dolores died. She was nice until she tried to ruin our marriage. I really liked her.”

“We need to increase security. If that bastard wants revenge, he’ll go after Y/N,” Steve worriedly looks at his husband. “We must protect her and our babies at all costs.”

“He could go after you too, Stevie,” Bucky cups Steve’s face. He presses his lips to Steve’s, savoring the moment. He closes his eyes, praying he won’t lose any of you. “I was the one rejecting her advances, Steve. It’s my fault if he hurts one of you.”

“We both wanted her, Buck. This is not your fault,” Steve pecks Bucky’s lips. “We couldn’t know she was having issues. I feel sorry for her too, but this doesn’t mean I will allow Rumlow to fuck with us.”

“Agreed,” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s lips.

“I got more,” Jake clears his throat. His cheeks are flushed from watching Steve and Bucky kiss. “Do you want to hear more?”

He watches Steve and Bucky bark orders at their men. They increased security. He curses because he missed his chance.

The little rat had to sniff around and find out about his past. Well, this can’t be helped.

He will get his chance. After all this time, Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes will pay for what they did.

Indecent Proposal (18.2)

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #stucky x reader #female reader #stucky x female reader #pregnant reader #Indecent Proposal (18)

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01zfan · 5 months ago

Text

midsummer | o. sh

ballerina!shotaro x violinist!reader | 8.4k words

first commission ever LETZ GOOOOO. this was so fun to write and yes it took me back to my orchestra days heh.

contains: unprotected sex (she’s on birth control yassss)

rain kept falling outside—the water gathered on the glass of the window before combining to become a droplet heavy enough to slide down. you kept taking peaks behind you, craning your neck every time a flash of light followed by a crack of thunder stole your attention. each time you looked at the rainfall you were amazed, murmuring something to yourself about how it was really coming down. summer showers weren’t uncommon, but something as sudden and hard as this in the middle of june was peculiar. you were happy practice was cancelled for the orchestra chamber as you looked at the stormy shadow of your window pane. you knew that you would’ve been trapped underneath scaffolding somewhere in the city getting wet from the torrential downpour.

after the rain went back to being steady and the thunderclap passed through you focused back on the music stand in front of you. a sigh filled the air as you remembered this part of the show—the timing during this part was tricky, something your section struggled with. as first chair you had to have the metronome engraved into your mind, relying on your knowledge of the music and the conductor. you couldn’t even use your feet to keep time due to everything else in the show being too quiet. during the last rehearsal the conductor looked over his glasses at the sound of someone tapping their foot on the hollow surface of the stage. you still remember feeling ridiculous for bringing your section member to the side after and telling them not to tap their feet. everything about the situation felt absurd, telling a musician to not keep time. you even struggled with the time signature; you developed the habit of nodding to yourself to start right on beat and counting in your head meticulously while letting your fingers drift between first and third position. each time you got it right during your practice you rewarded yourself by slouching against the back of your couch, and each time you failed you would grumble to yourself and watch the rain fall. for the past hour all you seemed to do was look at the rain while your exasperated sounds were drained out by the patter.

you knew you had been practicing for too long. when you started three hours ago in your designated practice chair next to your couch, you sat with perfect performance posture and silently ghosted over the strings of your instrument. not pressing your bow hard enough to the strings to create sound was something like a courtesy to your neighbors, an effort to not play too loudly in case the sound of your violin passed through the walls of your building. you only hummed the notes the notes, occasionally looking down the wooden fingerboard to make sure you were in the right place.

you first took quick peaks towards your door when you started standing up and walking around your apartment. you played what you knew from memory without the sheet music in front of you, occasionally pressing your bow just hard enough to bring tiny squeaks while you imagined the correct tune. what you didn’t know you filled in the gaps, trying to recall your endless weeks of practice.

by the time you sat on your couch you were full on looking towards your door, thinking every single bump or movement of your building was someone on the other side. even though the sheet music was in front of you it was only an afterthought, your eyes were scanned the same line over and over and over again. the horsehairs on your bow were fully being pressed into the strings of your instrument now—but you still weren’t trying to disturb your neighbors. you could shamelessly admit to yourself and yourself alone that you were trying to grab the attention of the person that lived across the hall because you told yourself it was all under the guise of wanting to practice. you looked to your door again, bringing out the loudest sound you could possibly muster from your instrument.

you didn’t always practice with a partner. you actually preferred to practice alone. when you practiced with other people in the orchestra you always became unbearably aware of your habits. the way you obnoxiously tapped your feet when going over a section, your constant sounds, your chicken scratch in the margins of your sheet music. people leaned over your shoulder and ask what does that say? one too many times. so you only practiced with someone when they requested your help. you never lingered around the theater after rehearsal and you never went into the soundproof practice rooms where people convened. you always went straight home with your instrument strapped to your back as you navigated through the city.

one day during your commute home you felt someone occasionally taking peaks at you. you weren’t a stranger to looks from people on public transit while you annotated music. usually they would take one look and see that you were doing something so insignificant to their lives they would look away. they would stop typing on their phones for a second to see what you were doing, just to go right back to their devices. but this person kept looking at you, almost like they were trying to figure you out. eventually your resolve of benevolence won, not once looking up from your annotations made the person lose interest like everyone else and they stopped looking at you.

when you made it out of the station and to street level, you felt the same look from the train. this time you looked up from your phone with your meanest scowl, hoping to deter any further interaction. even when you looked at shotaro with furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips he looked at you with a smile. his eyes were wide only for a moment, instantly warming when you made eye contact with him. your frown faltered and he took a step towards you, failing to talk above the music that blasted in your ears.

“what?” you asked once you moved one side of your headphones off your ear.

“sorry,” shotaro looked apologetic, but still had a wide smile across his face. “we are in the same theater production company.” he clarified.

instantly you nodded, recognizing the second soloist of the midsummer night’s dream ballet performance your company was putting together. the few times you practiced with the dancers you recognized the man in front of you, helping the demi-soloist and the other ballerinas with steps they might’ve missed.

you realized that shotaro was holding out his hand for you while you still had remnants of your scowl resting on your face like a mask. instantly you bowed and reached your hand forward. he grabbed your hand firmly, shaking it repeatedly while he continued to smile.

“i’m sorry.” you continued shaking his head as you wracked your brain for his name “shotaro right?” you guessed.

shotaro was beaming in front of you as he nodded his head.

“yes. that’s me!” shotaro said, still smiling.

he continued shaking your hand for another beat before pulling away. people filtered through the two of you as you were both completely still on the crosswalk. no one seemed to notice but you suddenly felt like you had nothing left to say. the music playing through your headphones switched to the first piece of the show, the overture written by mendelssohn. your mind started going over the sheet music in your head while you looked at shotaro. you blinked a few times and shotaro’s smile somehow got even wider before he pointed in a random direction.

“i just wanted to say hi.” he pulled his hand back from yours and readjusted the duffle bag across his body. “it’s nice to see you.” he said.

you were only able to nod before shotaro turned away. you debated on running across the street before running out of time but the blinking orange hand on the opposite side of the street made you stay in place. you waited behind shotaro waiting for the incoming traffic to pause so you could cross the street again. suddenly the path you had been taking for the better part of a year was jumbled in your mind, you had to look up at the street names to remember where you were. you felt embarrassed for seemingly no reason waiting behind shotaro for the street to let you cross. you prayed he didn’t notice you lingering behind him. you wanted to skip the awkward interaction of shotaro knowing you were still behind him while you desperately tried to focus on the music playing in your headphones rather than the bright attentive smile he gave you while he was speaking. but just like you felt shotaro staring at you on the train he felt your eyes burning holes into his back. he turned around again when the street was finally good to cross, and purposefully slowed down sos you two were walking side by side.

“i guess we are going to same way.” he said cheerfully.

you were expecting shotaro to walk down the street with you then turn on the next block. when you two kept walking side by side down the road you started finding your situation more and more ridiculous. by the time you made it to your apartment you and shotaro were still side by side looking at eachother in disbelief.

“there’s no way.” shotaro said, laughing.

“you live here too?” you asked.

“yeah.” shotaro unzipped his duffle bag to pull out a key that matched yours. “i live on the fifth floor.” he said.

you watched shotaro’s eyes widen when your lips parted. his expression matched yours second later, and he laughed in disbelief as both of your took the elevator to the fifth floor. it was hard to hide your shock when you went into your apartment that was across from shotaro’s.

in the beginning, knowing that shotaro was across the hall was anything but comforting. you thought you were quiet practicing before, but after that you were even more silent. for the first hour of your practice you didn’t even take your instrument out, you only read the sheet music and fingered the notes on your thigh. you weren’t planning on playing your instrument until shotaro knocked on your door, dressed in his usual practice attire. you opened the door only wide enough to see his almost apologetic face.

“sorry to interrupt, but do you think you could help me?” he asked.

you still kept the door closed most of the way, but you adjusted your body against the doorframe to let shotaro know you were still listening. he took your silent cue as permission to keep going. quickly shotaro looked at the phone clutched in his hand. you saw remnants of the notes app, how he had a list of the pieces in performance in a checklist.

“i’m having trouble with opus 61 number three.” he said.

shotaro looked up from his phone to you and you nodding your head, knowing instantly what he was talking about.

“the song with the choir?” you clarified.

“that’s right.” shotaro nodded and turned his phone off. “well i’m having a little bit of trouble with this part. and my instructor says that live music helps best. but i can’t find a live rendition of it anywhere so maybe i thought—“

when you opened your door and invited shotaro in, muttering a quick i can help you, you would’ve never thought it would lead to him becoming your unofficial practice buddy. there was something unspoken between the two of you, several times a week you would play your instrument a little louder than usual and shotaro would cross the small hallway and knock on your door. you would play for him and he would dance for you, showing you a type of grace you could only dream of. you two bonded through your shared love for theater and your similar habits when practicing.

you could never outwardly say that you started looking forward to practicing with shotaro, that you felt your heart seize in your chest when you saw him pirouette around your living room while you played him incidental music. the only thing you could admit to yourself is that you started growing developing the habit of playing your violin loudly, letting the sound ring in your apartment hoping that it would bleed over across the hall and bring shotaro knocking at your door.

that’s why you were shamelessly playing the same opus you knew shotaro was struggling with. you were the most alert you had been all night, no longer focused on the sheet music but looking at your door. you played over the sound of the thunderclaps outside and over the sound of rainfall that was no longer a gentle patter.

the sound of the weather outside and your playing was so loud you almost missed the sound of someones heavy steps. you swore you heard them hesitate in front of your door, before heading down the hallway. you had your face pressed to the peephole of your door in a second, trying to get a view of whoever passed. through the tiny glass hole you saw shotaro ruffling through his duffle bag in a panic. he had every pocket unzipped, he even had some of his clothes on the floor next to his feet as he ruffled through the bag. you thought you saw him press the pockets of his pants a million times before you saw his shoulders sag in defeat. while still looking through the peephole you turned the deadbolt of your door to the right obnoxiously, letting the sound fill the hallway. you saw shotaro snap his head towards your door before running his hands through his hair. you lowered from the peephole and fixed your own appearance, smoothing out your pajama shirt and clearing your throat before opening the door.

you started developing the habit of finding his eyes first, wanting to see the way they’d crease in the corners when he smiled at you. but when you opened the door a tiny crack just like the first time you ever let shotaro in, your attention instead was pulled to his chest and his wet shirt that clung to it. you had to pull your eyes away to look at shotaro in the face, trying not to focus on his hand that pushed back wet strands of hair that clung to his forehead. shotaro was sopping wet looking frazzled with his open duffle bag and the contents strewn around his feet.

“you got caught in the rain.” you said simply.

shotaro nodded shamefully before laughing. he ran his hands through his hair again, this time successfully pushing it back from his forehead.

“i left practice early to avoid the rain.” shotaro looked inside of his bag one more time before letting it loosely hang in front of him. “i think i forgot my keys at the studio.” he said.

for a moment both you and shotaro were completely silent. you leaned heavily on the door, your nails picking at the chipping white paint on your side.

“what are you going to do?” you asked, shuffling on your feet.

shotaro checked his phone, seeing that it was incredibly too late to wake up the superintendent of the building. it wasn’t an option to go back to the dance studio either, evident in the thunderclap that booked in the hallway.

“i was going to call one of my friends. i can hang at his place until the storm blows over.” shotaro said.

watching shotaro pick up his phone filled your mind with the sense of finality. for a moment everything still before you held out your hand to stop him.

“that’s not necessary.” you said quickly. “you can just stay here.”

instantly shotaro shook his head, holding out his own hand.

“i can’t ask you to do that.” he said quickly, still looking at his phone.

“shotaro please i insist.” you shyly opened your door the rest of the way, trying to inconspicuously pick out the paint that stuck underneath your nail. “don’t wake your friend up.” you said.

shotaro pulled his gaze away from his phone before grabbing at the strap of his duffle bag nervously. you move backwards into your apartment and beckon to him as a lightning bolt illuminates your apartment. shotaro steps inside but stays in the entryway of your apartment, swaying back and forth on his feet like he’s never been here before. you look at his wet clothes that still cling to his body like a second skin and motion towards your bathroom.

“if you want to change.” you said, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

shotaro understands, because he nods and quickly makes his way to your bathroom. you stand in the same place, your violin and bow still in your hand as you look at the light underneath the crack in your door. you look at the trail of shotaro’s wet socks leading towards the bathroom. you can’t stop yourself from thinking about shotaro in your bathroom, how he’s probably undressing himself to change into dry clothes. you imagine him shirtless, how his skin probably looked dewy from the rain. you shuffled on your feet thinking about him, how he was on the other side of your door peeling off another article of clothing.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you were oblivious to the world around you. when shotaro emerged from the bathroom in sweatpants and a black shirt you had to blink to refocus. for the second time that night the two of you were in a silent and shy staring contest, both of you too afraid to say something. shotaro clasped his hands together and bowed lightly, showing his appreciation.

“thank you so much. seriously.” shotaro said, taking a step away from the bathroom

you began walking forward straight for your couch, shaking your head profusely at his constant gratitude.

“it’s nothing.” you assured.

when you made it to the couch you sat down, looking over the back to stare at shotaro. he walked casually around the couch, passing in front of you before sitting on the opposite end. you felt ridiculous holding your instrument in your hand, but at the same time you were grateful to have something to hold onto. having shotaro inside your apartment to do anything besides practice made you anxious. loosening and tightening your grip on your violin and bow was the only relief you got from the anxiety you felt sneaking up your spine.

“can i try holding it?” shotaro asked.

you looked from your end of the couch, eyes wide as you tried to comprehend what shotaro was asking. when he saw the lost look on your face he pointed to your violin like a child.

“oh.” you hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the last time anyone who wasn’t you touched your instrument. even if something in you was telling you to turn down shotaro, a larger part of you could never say no to him. so you scooted closer to the center of the couch and shotaro did the same, moving to less than an arms length away from you as you handed your instrument to him. “here you go.”

shotaro took the violin slowly, almost like he was expecting you to take it back at the last second. he tried to remember the way you held your instrument during practice and replicated your pose.

“am i holding it right?” shotaro asked.

you watched as shotaro held your violin entirely too far away from his collarbone and his hand didn’t support the fingerboard. if anyone else was to hold your instrument the way you watched shotaro hold it now you would’ve snatched it away—maybe it was the rain that calmed you down or maybe the look of pure confusion on shotaro’s face as he realized how uncomfortable his current position was. instead of taking your instrument back you only giggled and shook your head.

“not at all.” you said lightly.

your hands flexed at your sides before your fingers spread apart. you were quick running your palms down the fabric of your pants before bringing them up to shotaro’s hands. you were slow when you corrected his bent wrist, pushing out his flexed wrist until it was relaxed and his arm created a relaxed line. you were more timid when you went to his head, suddenly something was stopping you from bringing your hands to shotaro’s chin. you instead moved your own head, and you watched shotaro mimic your form. when you straightened your back he did the same, and when you prepped your hand shotaro moved his to the peg box. his form was perfect, but your eyes kept going to the slight slouch in his back. your hands flexed again at your sides, and shotaro looked to you again with confusion on his face.

“okay, how about now?” he asked.

shotaro asked the question so honestly you started to feel bad. he was showing genuine interest in what you do, but all you could think about was what it would feel like to touch him. your mind drifted to when shotaro showed you the different starting positions of ballet. how gentle his soft hands felt on your extended arms as he corrected your form. you felt like you were on fire, and you nearly shivered feeling the cold metal of his rings graze your skin. you were so tense shotaro had to work apart your clammy hand that balled into fists. he teased you by asking if you were nervous and your voice cracked when you quickly said no. looking back to that moment you don’t know why you would put yourself in that same position again. you felt so many butterflies in your stomach you thought you were going to be sick, and you felt something akin to embarrassment dust across the planes of your face.

you saw shotaro’s hold on your instrument falter, and just like when he showed you his ballet technique the space around the two of you stilled. the rain continued to fall silently as shotaro offered you the violin back.

“can you show me?” shotaro asked.

you slowly took your instrument back, purposely grabbing the opposite side shotaro held so your hands wouldn’t touch. you already knew the smell of him would stick to the stained wood of your violin and that he would be looking intensely at you as he took in every detail—you didn’t think you could handle touching him.so you purposefully moved your violin to the side of your body that wasn’t facing shotaro. the tiny amount of peace you got in the form of your separation on the couch dissipated as shotaro scooted closer.

you tried focusing away from shotaro, trying to be oblivious to the way he took in every part of you. he didn’t look at you with the strictness he had during rehearsal. he wasn’t scanning for errors in your posture, or your bent wrist. he was looking at you with tenderness. when he leaned forward to look the collarbone your violin rested on you thought you were going to snap a peg off in your grip. you forced yourself to remain calm, smiling back at shotaro when he finally looked into your eyes again.

“does it hurt?”

the sultry tone shotaro sudden had made words get trapped in your throat. it was the same voice he spoke to you all those months ago, when you were standing in front of your couch and shotaro was guiding your arms above your head. just like that is what he said to you then, and you had to swallow thickly and adjust your body to regain your bearings just like you were doing now.

“does what hurt?” you speak so quietly it’s almost drowned out in the sound of the rain.

shotaro’s body was so close to yours you could feel the warmth of his thigh bleeding through the fabric of his sweatpants. even if there was two layers of clothes separating you if felt like skin-to-skin contact. with shotaro this close you could see the how the ends of his hair was still wet from the rain. he smelled like soil after light rain, the comforting petrichor scent and sandalwood filled your nose. he overwhelmed all your senses simply by sitting next to you. you felt hyperaware of everything, so much so that you snapped your head to shotaro’s shoulder that leaned into the upholstery of your couch as he came a little lifted his hands. your eyes were wide taking him in, and your heart was beating so fast it reverberated in your chest and went all the way up to your head. all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears when shotaro spoke into the air almost as quiet as you.

“can i?” he asked.

his hand was heading straight for your protruding collarbone, waiting right above the bone as he looked to you for approval. you still held your violin tightly in place, as if you were trying to hold onto a reason for shotaro being so close to you. when you nodded you convinced yourself it was only for educational purposes, even when he dragged his finger slowly up to the base of your neck. your form fell apart slowly when shotaro added another finger to glide at your neck. you completely crumbled by the time he got to your jaw, just in time for his other hand to gently grab the violin away from your loosening grip. you let shotaro grab it without a second thought, and you watched him carefully put the instrument on the couch behind him. he other hand stayed on you and when he was done placing your instrument down he let his hand rest on his thigh. you didn’t know what to feel, or what to do. your hands were balled into fists on your lap, trying desperately to get shotaro to keep touching you despite not moving an inch.

when all of shotaro’s fingers settled on your jaw he turned your head slowly, looking the most serious you’ve ever seen him.

“is this alright?” shotaro asked.

you didn’t hesitate to nod your head. shotaro brought his other hand to your lap, resting over your clenched fist. you knew your hand was clammy when you intertwined your fingers with his, but your focus on shotaro’s parted lips coming closer and closer to yours was more important. you squeezed his hand tight and shotaro leaned in closer as his other hand gently pulled you in. when you felt his gentle lips press against yours he invaded your senses further, pushing you past the point of no return. you felt your mind endlessly replay all of the moments you thought you were reading too much into—all the lingering looks and treats he’d pick up for you on his way home from practice. the flooding of your senses pushed what would’ve been a simple peck into something much more. when shotaro’s lips stilled you tilted your head and pressed deeper into him. he reciprocated and when you caught another inhale of his parfum your hand flew up to clench his shirt. shamelessly you pulled him closer by the balled up fabric of his tee and shotaro smiled against your lips before kissing you back with the same fervor.

he guided your hand on your lap to his shoulder, and shotaro brought his hand to bring you closer by the small of your back. you brought your hand from his shoulder to his cheek, stroking the skin the same way he stroked yours. you scooted so close until you were practically in his lap, but you still felt shotaro’s hand pulling you closer. you pushed into shotaro and he pushed back. when both of his hands went to your face you let him fully lean into you, moving your body backwards until the armrest of your couch prodded your back. you were catching quick breaths of air in the short moments shotaro pulled away from your lips completely. when you tugged at his shirt a final time you felt shotaro’s hand suddenly leave yours to grip the back of your couch. you heard the worn leather dimple in shotaro’s harsh clutch, and you preened further into his mouth wishing he would hold you the grip you the same way.

when shotaro pulled away from you, your lips subconsciously chased after his, and your tongue peaked out past your lips. you felt the remnants of shotaro’s chapstick and you felt your eyes drift closed as you tried to lean into him again. he pressed his smiling lips against yours one last time and pulled away again to your dismay. he smiled while caressing your cheek, and you were breathing so deeply you thought your vision was going to start spotting. you were always so shy to look directly at shotaro, but now it felt like that’s all you could do. you looked at his curling eyelashes and the smile on his face, you looked at his hand that still gripped your couch and the thin silver necklace that dangled in the air as he leaned over.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long.” he said.

“what was stopping you?” you asked.

shotaro looked like he was thinking for a sec before he brought the back of your hand to his lips. he placed a chaste kiss there and you felt more heat rush to your face.

“i wanted to take you to dinner first.” he admitted.

shotaro’s straightforward answer causes you to be sheepish. you look down and giggle like a schoolgirl to yourself at the thought of shotaro taking you on a date. you don’t try to hide your smile as he comes closes the space between your lips again.

when shotaro leans further into you and starts guiding your back to rest on the couch you remember your violin that sits behind him.

“wait, taro.” shotaro pulled away from you instantly, eyebrows raised before you pointed behind him. “my violin. i need to put it away.”

before you could move underneath shotaro to get off the couch he did it first, crawling off of your body to go to your padded instrument case on the floor. he gently grabbed your violin and moved terribly slow when he heard you draw in a sharp inhale. he held your instrument in both hands and looked back to you as he looked at the violin-shaped soft indent in the case.

“like this?” he asked.

shotaro was careful, fitting your violin perfectly inside of its case. when you opened your mouth to tell him what to do next he was one step ahead, slightly loosening the taut horsehairs of your bow before putting it in its place as well.

shotaro did the rest quickly, closing the case and zipping it up all the way. it seemed in the blink of an eye he was back to his original position, hovering above you as his hands touched you gently all over. you parted your legs, one of them sliding over the edge while the other pressed into the back of the couch. shotaro fit his body between your legs, slowly spreading them further apart while he touched the exposed skin of your neck.

nothing about the touches were timid, you could feel the effort he put in letting you know how badly he wanted you while checking on you first. before he dared to clutch or paw at you shotaro searched for a head nod or a breathy yes. shotaro leaned into to the naked plane of your shoulder while his hand drifted up from your hips to your chest. lightning touched down somewhere the same time shotaro laved your bare skin with his tongue and his warm breath fanned the area. you leaned your head against his and arched your back to move your chest further into his hand. the thunderclap shook your apartment when shotaro applied force behind his hand and started sucking the your neck.

your head leaned against the headrest as shotaro kneaded your chest, alternating between pressing his palms flat to your sensitive skin before fisting the flesh. you felt shotaro still above you when your first whimper slipped past your lips. you moved your hand to press against his shoulder blade, and shotaro moved his hand that was holding your face to drag it down your body. you shivered from his touch and started gripping his shoulder when you felt his hand press into your stomach.

when shotaro found out that sucking your neck and holding you firmly coaxed sounds from your throat he didn’t let up, he only started grabbing at you more. before you knew it shotaro’s hands found their way underneath your shirt and pushed your bra up to expose your bare chest. you were already squirming underneath him by the time he was lightly pinching your nipples. the view of shotaro’s hands underneath your shirt was dizzying, and the feeling of his sighs against your neck made you more desperate. your had your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to satiate your need for friction, but shotaro was unmoving above you—he didn’t grind his hips into yours, he even pulled away when you pathetically lifted your hips to try and satisfy your selfish desire. when you started pawing at his shirt and your quiet whines turned into pouts, shotaro finally pulled away from your neck.

“not yet.” you felt his fingers break past the waistline of your pajama pants and they tugged at the elastic. “let me take my time.” he whispered.

shotaro knew that to some extent he was being cruel, or at the very least he was being a tease. he could only hope that you understood his desperate need to draw the pleasure out from you slowly. he need to go slow, to examine every piece of you to make up for all the lost time he could’ve been doing this. all the pent up emotions came bubbling to the surface hearing and feeling you underneath him. the neck he spent so much time thinking about he was kissing, and the bare skin of your waist and chest he dreamed about was underneath his fingertips. shotaro needed you to give him grace before he gave you everything else. when he felt you nod your head and loosen your grip on his shoulder he let out a shaky breath before experimentally tugging at the waistband of your shorts. shotaro smiled against your neck when you instantly responded to tug, even bringing your own hand to your pants as you pushed them lower.

he pulled away from your neck to rest on his haunches as you impatiently pulled your leg from your pants. shotaro’s view of you from above was intoxicating. you already looked so bothered, the wet look in your eyes from lust as you did a quick look of his body. shotaro felt himself strain in his pants as you bit your lip to uncomfortably bend your legs in an effort to get your pants off the rest of the way. shotaro helped you, and he let himself be cruel again when he stretched your leg a little to far. he smiled when you let out a tiny hiss of pain, and he held eye contact with you when he playfully pushed your leg a little further.

“i’m not flexible like you.” you whined.

shotaro stopped applying pressure and guided your leg to wrap around his waist again. he affectionately squeezed your chin at your pout, wondering if you knew what you were doing to him right now.

“that’s alright baby.” shotaro cooed.

he traveled his hand from your calf then up your thigh, stopping at the trim of your panties. shotaro was tempted to tease you further, like telling you something about stretching you out. he decided to take mercy on you seeing that you were already nervously pulling at his arms to make him come back down to you. shotaro brought his body back down to you, but instead of going to your neck he went to your chest. he let his head rest in the valley of your breast, kissing at the fabric of your shirt as if it wasn’t there. one of your hands flew to his head, gripping his brown strands of hair while you let out a shaky breath.

“keep kissing me.” you sighed above him.

shotaro looked up from your chest to find you looking up at the ceiling. he saw you thickly swallow nothing, almost like you were contemplating what you just said. he pulled your shirt up to your chest and placed a kiss on your bare stomach.

“where?” shotaro asked after placing another kiss.

“everywhere.” your voice was already shaking as your fingers rubbed at shotaro’s scalp. “please. everywhere.” you said.

shotaro pressed his hand into your clothed pussy and felt you jolt before melting into his touch. he felt the pinprick sensation of you holding his hair too tight.

“can i kiss you here?” shotaro asked, pressing his hands deeper into your pussy for emphasis.

you nodded your head vigorously before he heard your mewls of yes’s and please’s. as he made his way down your body he felt your legs move to rest on his shoulders. when all the space was used up on your couch you compensated by moving more into the headrest. your shoulders were awkwardly propped against the side of the couch, but your sacrifice gave shotaro enough space to be eye level with your clothed pussy. you swear you saw hearts swimming in his blown out pupils when he leaned forward to place a wet kiss on your panties, right where you needed friction.

shotaro was purposeful with his hands. the same precision he had while dancing he applied to your body. he quickly swiped down your clothed folds with grace, taking the time to press into your hole to see the slick that was gathering at your entrance. he blew cold air on your skin that felt like it was on fire, watching how it sent a shiver up your full body. he did the same motion over and over, like he was doing reps in a practice room. but instead of looking at his body he looked at yours, the way your stomach jumped and how your hand was holding onto the back of the couch for stability. he watched your hips lift off the couch when he hooked his middle finger underneath the fabric of your panties to pull them to the side.

shotaro watched you weakly lift up your head from the headrest, only to let it fall back down with a dull thump after seeing him get closer to your pussy. shotaro pressed his hand into your thigh to give himself a better angle, and he could feel the heel of your foot beginning to dig into his back.

“can i kiss you here?” shotaro teased, talking directly at your wet clenching hole.

he felt you tug at his hair again and he took a quick look to see your begging eyes.

“please.” you mewled, so sincerely it made shotaro grind into the cushion.

he wasted no more time placing a wet kiss to your entrance. your loudest moan ripped through the air, seemingly silencing the rain. everything was drowned out when shotaro plunged his tongue into your heat, and when you closed your thighs around his head he was blissfully unaware of the world around him. he tilted his head despite your legs effort to keep him in place. he was making out slowly with your pussy, flicking and pressing his tongue wherever it caused you to make a sound. he purposely made a mess with his spit and your slick, just so he would have something to clean up. each time you shook or gushed more shotaro lapped it up, all while pressing sweet wet kisses to your heat. he felt your hand in his hair, and could feel you trying so hard to control your random body jerks.

when he wanted to pull away he pressed a hand to your thigh, adding just enough pressure so he could move. with a flat tongue pressed to your heat he travelled upwards, collecting all of your precum and his spit that he could. you coated his mouth and laid his tongue like honey. by the time shotaro made it to your clit you felt like gloss his lips, and your moans sounded heavy.

shotaro pulled at your arm as he buried his head in the soft plush skin of your thigh. shotaro intertwined his fingers with yours, and he loved feeling the callouses on the pads of your fingers press into his skin. he pressed your joined handsd into your lower stomach, and he could practically hear you clench around nothing. you brought your head up from the side of the couch to look down at him, weakly leaning against the back of the couch to keep yourself upright. when shotaro knew he had your attention he pressed your hands deeper into your stomach and lifted your lower half by his grip on your thighs. he latched his lips to your clit and he felt you tug at his hair again. the pain spurred him on, and your moans that turned into pants made him let go of your thighs to plunge two fingers into your clenching hole. your leg left shotaro’s back and hooked over the top of the couch. you were already shaking, squeezing his hand even tighter because you couldn’t tell him how you were feeling with words. shotaro kept blazing eye contact with you as he continued his ministrations, feeding off of your weak voice.

when you started preening your hips into his mouth shotaro pulled away to flick his tongue across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“taro.” you said it weakly, and started pressing your own hand into your stomach.

“mhm.” shotaro hummed in acknowledgement, too focused on bringing you pleasure to tease you more.

“taro.” you whined pitifully, back arching off of the couch.

“i got you.” he said it quickly while switching his fingers that were inside of you with his mouth.

when shotaro started rubbing tight fast revolutions on your clit and fucking you with his tongue you came undone. taro must’ve fallen from your lips a million times, broken apart with whines and heavy breathing. your body shook and jolted but shotaro kept his face buried in between your thighs. nothing could’ve pulled him away from you, not even when you closed your legs around his thighs. the more you gave him the more he took, he was completely lost in a trance of smelling, tasting, and hearing you. the only thing that stopped shotaro was feeling your hand push against his head and the tension in your body completely dissipating.

you used the last of your strength to pull shotaro up to you. you had to dig your feet into the cushions of your couch to get enough leverage but you did it, bringing his body to press against yours. you deepened the kiss while wrapping your legs around shotaro’s waist again.now it was his turn to sigh and whimper pathetically into your mouth as you took control, using your hands on his face to tilt his head. when he pressed his hips against yours you broke away and lifted your own hips to meet his. you two quickly became messes, rutting against eachother like you had all the time in the world. when it became too much shotaro retreated to the crook of our neck, planting his arms on either side of your head as he continued pushing his hips against yours.

“i don’t have condoms.” shotaro let out a sigh when he pressed deeper into you. “i can cum just from this though.” he groaned.

“i’m on birth control,” your hands started pushing at shotaro’s waistband. “i’m not seeing anyone either.” you added.

“me neither.” shotaro said.

you let out a moan at the thought of you being the only person to have shotaro like this. the girls that whispered and stole glances towards him during rehearsal could only dream of being where you were now—hastily pushing shotaro’s pants down his legs while he pushed your shirt up to your neck. he kissed and sucked on your chest and torso as you used your feet to push his pants off the rest of the way.

“can you take your shirt off for me?” shotaro asked between kisses.

you got up from underneath him just enough to pull your shirt over your head. when you were down you let your body flop against the couch again as the sweat across your body made you stick to the synthetic leather. shotaro followed close behind you, taking off his shirt with one hand before balling it up and throwing it somewhere in the room.

you ran both of your hands down shotaro’s chest, letting your nails graze his dewy skin. he put his hands on your wrists but didn’t guide you, he only basked in the feeling of you touching him so intensely. you felt his dick rest heavy against your thigh, twitching each time you moved.

“please fuck me.” you whispered, voice still weak from your orgasm.

“right here on your couch?” shotaro asked while bringing his body to hover over yours again.

instead of responding, you grabbed shotaro at the base of his dick and guided him to your entrance. he froze in your hold, only sighing and jerking his body slightly. you touched his tip to your clit a few times, causing both of you to let out exasperated moans. shotaro’s hand that was still wrapped around your wrist grabbed his dick at the base so he could lazily slap his dick against your pussy.

“don’t be afraid to be loud, okay?”

shotaro delivered his order with a smile and a lift to his voice, one that you tragically failed to respond to. all the words were taken from your mouth when shotaro slid into you easily, all the way in until his hips pressed against yours.

“shit.” shotaro pressed a kiss to your parted lips before pressing the side of his face against yours. “you feel so good.” he hissed.

“so deep.” you babbled, pressing your nails into whatever part of shotaro you could reach.

shotaro used his hand to go to the underside of your thigh, unwrapping it from his waist to press it to your chest. you cried out when shotaro pulled out and thrusted back inside of you. the stretch combined with the new position had you screwing your eyes shut and pressing your nails deeper into his skin. shotaro groaned when you clenched around him and traded the long deep thrusts for desperate ruts. you started lifting your hips in tandem with him, both of you chasing after a high you spent too long avoiding.

“i’m not gonna last.” shotaro said, pressing your thigh closer to your chest.

you could only shake your head, stilling underneath him because you were hurtling too fast towards euphoria again. you laid underneath shotaro squirming, moaning carelessly at everything he was giving you.

“it’s okay.” you whimpered.

he pressed his lips towards your forehead again, and you felt the tears welling in the corners of your eyes. after pulling away shotaro pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, the sweat keeping you together like glue. you swore you could feel shotaro’s eyelashes fan your face each time he blinked, and you saw yourself like a mirror in his eyes. lightning striked down again and you could see shotaro’s flushed face. for a split second your saw his rosy cheeks, and the white knuckle grip he had on you as his thrusts got harsher. when you started seizing around shotaro his eyes lit up knowingly, and his hand started sinking between your two bodies.

“you’re close again?” shotaro asked.

“yes.” you said. “taro i’m so close.”

you tried keeping your composure, but when you felt shotaro’s hands on your clit again your resolve crumbled. you couldn’t stop your body from swaying with shotaro, and before you knew it that coil in your stomach broke in half.

while pleasure ripped through your body and your cries hit the ceiling shotaro cooed, giving you sympathetic hums and i know’s while your overstimulation slowly turned to pleasure in pain’s body. when you were at the height of it all shotaro’s hips became desperate, filling the room with the sound of your squelching heat and skin slapping against skin.

“can i come inside?” shotaro asked quickly.

you nodded your head and pulled shotaro closer to you as he drew his hips back a final time. you felt him deep, and his body above yours stiffened as he let out a heavy exhale. you preened your lips into shotaro’s swallowing his moans and whimpers as he continued twitching inside of you. you felt your walls flutter around him, pulsing like a heartbeat as you milked him.

when shotaro came back to earth, youu saw him out of breath for the first time of the night. he still stayed inside of you, and let out a tinny ooh or aah each time either of you moved. you were both sensitive to the touch, your lax bodies twitching anytime there was movement. shotaro had to gather the strength to pull out of you, but decided he was too weak to separate his body from yours. he laid on top of you for a while, his weight resting lightly on yours provided comfort.

shotaro pulled your attention away from the falling rain by kissing your cheek. you looked down at him and tried patting down the strands of hair you unintentionally mussed. he closed his eyes contently feeling you massage his scalp, and opened them again when you stopped.

you watched shotaro’s eye’s light up as he gentle caressed your face, bringing you to make burning eye contact wit him. you say a playful smile on your lips, and before you could ask him what he was smiling about he spoke.

“shall i compare thee to a summer’s day?” shotaro said with a fake posh accent.

you groaned and swatted his arm as he continued the terrible rendition of the sonnet, telling him that it wasn’t even in the play with a smile on your face.

#commissionz #01zfan: shotaro #shotaro smut #riize smut

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glearyyyne · 6 months ago

Text

a true story Part 2

Part 1

Synopsis: You thought you would be having a peaceful life after running away from him in Tokyo as you moved into the countryside and built a cafe but what would you do if he suddenly showed up asking for an explanation that night?

Word Count: 7,284 words

Warning: 21+ DNI, gun, swearing, mention of knife, threatening, negative comments, mention of stalker, fighting, betrayal, a sprinkle of angst, open ending.

Note: So I finally finished this yay!! Even though this was also one of my few episodes of 'wanting to drop the fic' I didn't really expect people to be so invested in part 1 so here have some more!

_____________________________________________________________

“[Reader's name]!”

You turned your head to see Megumi waiting by the gate of your house.

“Just a second!” You told him as you closed the hose after you finished watering the plants as you headed to the gate to open.

It's been at least 4 years since you left the city you lived in. You tried your best to leave everything behind so that Satoru won't find you.

You quit your job at the bar, you even begged the owner not to tell satoru that you left your job and you even told Fumiko where you’ll be staying just so she can visit you and give you some updates about the bar but you also begged her not to tell satoru as he knew your friendship with Fumiko.

You even sold your phone behind as you knew there was a chance that satoru could trace your whereabouts. You now live in the countryside that isn't most likely known in Japan.

"Are you not going to open the cafe?" Megumi asked.

"I am, can you wait for a minute? I'll just go and lock the door," you replied as you hurried to secure the house before heading to the cafe with Megumi.

Megumi nodded as you headed inside and locked the door. Running a cafe in the countryside wasn't easy, but with your experience in the bar, you managed to make it work.

Despite the challenges, you found comfort in the relaxed atmosphere of your cafe.

Megumi, your neighbor for the past three years, took on the role of cashier, a move that initially puzzled you given his introverted nature.

However, you accepted his request for a job since you needed someone reliable to manage the register.

Not too long after, you and Megumi arrived at the cafe.

With your keys, you opened the door and the two of you headed inside to begin opening the shop.

You busied yourself with cleaning the coffee equipment while Megumi neatly arranged the pastries in the glass display.

Together, you swiftly prepared the cafe for another day of serving customers in the peaceful countryside setting.

As you were at the sink, you heard a ringtone from beside it. It was Megumi's phone, and you accidentally saw the message.

‘Any update from her?’

Your brows furrowed as you saw the sender's name

G.S?

"Megumi?" you called his name. He responded with a hum while still doing his task.

"I think you got a message from... G.S?" Your words made Megumi stop abruptly.

He quickly grabbed his phone, "Sorry, I'll go outside and answer this," he said before you could say anything. With that, he left the cafe to respond to the message.

You were baffled, it was the first time you saw Megumi panicking. It must be from his family.

You shrugged it off and went back to cleaning the sink, trying not to dwell on it too much. But as you scrubbed, you couldn't help but recall the conversation where you asked Megumi why he moved here.

"Why did I move here?" Megumi asked, counting the money at the register as you nodded, perched on the countertop since the cafe was already closed.

"Uhm, I guess my guardian placed me here so I don't... meddle in his business," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, "You're lying, Megumi, your ears are bright red," you pointed out, making Megumi sigh and cover his ears.

"It's just cold in here and I'm telling the truth!" he defended himself, which made you laugh.

"Whatever you say. But wait, you said guardian? Does that mean... not to offend you, but you don't have your parents?" you asked cautiously, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

Megumi sighed, momentarily stopping counting as he nodded.

"They left me and my sister when I was younger," he said, making you want to apologize for asking. But before you could, he continued, "I don't even remember what they looked like, so it doesn't matter to me."

"Then where's your sister?" you asked.

"In Tokyo. She's doing some job, that's why she's not with me here," he answered.

"I guess that guardian of yours is an angel," you told him, but he only groaned in annoyance. "He's a pain in the ass," Megumi said, making you laugh.

As the sun set, the closing of the cafe drew near.

Today, a lot of customers came, which made you happy knowing that the pastries wouldn't go to waste, and the aroma of the coffee made it feel even more like home.

As soon as it hit 10, you closed the sign, and you and Megumi began packing up. You were busy cleaning the tables while Megumi handled the money in the register again.

"Megumi," you called out while wiping down a table. "You can head home after counting the money," you told him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "We usually head out at the same time," he added.

"Yeah, but I have to go somewhere first before I head home," you told him.

Megumi was hesitant at first, but then he proceeded to agree as he went on to count the remaining money.

After Megumi bid goodbye to you, you were left alone in the cafe.

Once you finished cleaning, you began to switch off the lights before locking the main door.

Walking down the streets, you hugged the heat pad closer as the weather began to get colder with winter nearing.

Stopping by the cake shop, you entered and were greeted by the cashier.

"What can I get for you, ma'am?" she asked. "Do you have any bento cakes?" you inquired.

"We do! We have a lot of variations of bento cakes. Feel free to pick one you like," the cashier replied, gesturing to the display of cakes.

Not too long after, you picked your desired cake and paid for it before heading home.

Just as you arrived at your gate, you noticed the lights on in Megumi's house and a silhouette larger than Megumi's. It seemed he had some visitors.

Shrugging it off, you got inside your house, turning on the lights and the heater as you headed to your table and began to open the cake.

Glancing at the time, you saw it was already 12:14 am. You sighed as you lit the candle.

You started to sing yourself a happy birthday before making a wish and taking a bite of the cake.

It was another birthday alone. It was hard to get used to, but what could you do? With divorced parents busy with their own families, they had forgotten about you. Your other relatives were in Tokyo, and since you moved to the countryside, you weren't expecting them to visit.

You didn't want to hear their pitying comments anyway.

You didn't even eat half of the cake before you stood up to clean the table and put the cake in the refrigerator.

"I should give some to Megumi tomorrow," you muttered after closing the refrigerator.

Then you headed to the bathroom to change and brush your teeth before finally heading to bed.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your doorbell, a recent addition to your gate in case someone wanted to see you.

It was still too early to head to the cafe, so you reluctantly got out of bed.

Making your way to the gate, you opened it without much thought, only to be met with surprise when you saw the white-haired man standing there—a face you hadn't seen in four years.

He seemed to have changed, a bit more muscular here and there—wait, what were you thinking?

"Satoru? What—how did you find me?" you asked, your face peering out cautiously from behind the gate, ready to retreat if necessary.

"[Reader's name], long time no see," he said with that infuriating smirk.

With an annoying sigh, you attempted to shut the gate, but Satoru was a step ahead, managing to hold it open.

"Oh, come on, is that how you greet someone you suddenly left after that night?" he teased.

"I left? It's you who left!" you retorted, feeling frustration bubbling up.

"I never left that day. It was you who suddenly left with that typical note," he argued.

"Look, the past is the past. Let's forget what happened between us," you urged, hoping to move past the confrontation.

But you noticed the intensity in his gaze. "I was serious," he said, his tone shifting.

"What?" you replied, caught off guard.

"I was serious when I said I like you—scratch that, when I said I love you," he confessed, his tone grave.

Your heart began to race, but you fought against letting your guard down. "You're lying," you countered.

"I'm not," he insisted.

"No, you're literally lying," you shot back, refusing to give in easily.

"I'm not," he repeated firmly, his gaze unwavering.

"How could I believe you?" you challenged, skepticism coloring your tone.

"Believe me? Fine, I paid off your debt," he suddenly announced, catching you completely off guard.

"What?" you exclaimed, incredulous.

"Remember that guy you were hiding in the parking lot? The one that led to all of those... interactions?" he said, his smirk returning, much to your annoyance.

"Yeah, I know that," you replied irritably, cutting him off before he could mention the kiss.

"I did a background check on him and found out that little miss [reader's name] has a debt to him," he continued, his smirk widening, irritating you further.

"I'll just pay you back when I can," you said, attempting once more to close the gate, but Satoru didn't like that.

"If you close this gate, I'll triple the debt you need to pay me back," he threatened, his tone sending shivers down your spine. It was the first time he had been so intimidating.

"Don't forget how much debt you left," he added, reminding you of your past financial troubles.

Feeling like you had no choice, you reluctantly let go of the gate. "Good," he said when he noticed you giving up on closing it.

"What do you really want, Satoru?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice.

"I need a face-to-face explanation of that night," he answered firmly.

"And if I don't agree?" you questioned, dreading his response.

"Then I'll triple the debt you need to pay off," he said with a smirk, his threat reinforced by his control over your finances.

Damn him and his money. "Can we talk at the cafe? I have to wait for Megumi," you suggested, hoping to buy some time.

"There's no need to," he said, catching you off guard.

"Megumi's not here," he revealed, leaving you stunned.

"You killed him, didn't you?!" you shouted frantically, your mind racing with horrifying possibilities.

"Chill, why would I kill the kid when I'm his guardian?" he revealed, his words only adding to your surprised look.

You placed a strawberry croissant on the table before sitting down across from Satoru at the cafe.

Since it was a weekday with few customers, you seized the opportunity to talk to him, while he was already busy enjoying the croissant.

"I must say, it tastes good," he remarked between bites.

"Thanks, Megumi made it," you informed him.

"Really? He tells me he only makes coffee here, not pastries," Satoru commented.

"Let's get this over with," you said, wanting to dive into the conversation.

"Okay," Satoru agreed, wiping his mouth with a tissue. "Why did you leave that night?" he asked directly.

You sighed. "No, no. Why did you leave me alone in your bed?" you countered.

"I never left. I was in the bathroom," he revealed, surprising you. Wait, what?

"You were? Uhm..." You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

"So, answer my question. Why did you leave me?" he pressed.

"I left that night because I thought you had left me after... after you just— I don't know— used my body," you confessed, looking at him earnestly.

"I didn't use your body. Did you forget that night how I kissed every inch of your body?" he asked with a straight face.

"You... didn't have to remind me of that," you replied, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.

"I just don't understand why everything I do for you doesn't seem appreciable to you," Satoru expressed his frustration.

You felt compelled to address the issue of Ayaka. "Everyone at that ball seemed so... expected to see you with Ayaka," you explained.

"Was it because of what that old man said?" he inquired.

"No, your cousin... he told me you two were childhood sweethearts. Everyone around you expected you to marry that girl, but instead, you brought me to that ball as your 'girlfriend,' and suddenly it feels like everyone paints me as the villain," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.

Satoru listened attentively, letting out a sigh. "If we're talking about a villain here, it's Ayaka, not you," he reassured.

"Why would it be her?" you questioned, needing more clarity.

"Well, for starters, Tsumiki and Megumi hated her," he revealed, but you wanted more detailed information.

"Elaborate more—" you began, but before you could dig deeper into the topic, a customer entered the cafe, prompting you to unconsciously stand up and head to the cashier.

It felt like déjà vu, with Satoru watching you from the usual table while you attended to your duties.

Before you knew it, more customers arrived, causing you to forget about the conversation with Satoru.

Witnessing how hard you worked while managing the cafe alone, Satoru decided to lend you a hand.

As 10:00 pm approached, the cafe closed. Satoru watched as you counted the money, feeling nervous under his gaze.

You muttered the numbers, trying to speed through the counting process.

"By the way," you stopped counting and looked at Satoru, "where is Megumi?" you asked him.

"Can't we just have a day without mentioning his name?" he replied, annoyance evident in his tone. "I'm getting jealous, you know?" he added with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "I need to know. If he's still not here by tomorrow, then I'll just close the cafe for the day," you informed him firmly.

"He's visiting his sister. She's getting married," Satoru informed you. "He'll come back here by tomorrow," he added.

"Wait, Megumi's 25, so how old is she?" you asked.

"26," Satoru replied.

"Oh, she didn't get you to walk her down the aisle?" you teased, smirking at him.

Satoru sighed. "As much as I wanted to, she chose Megumi to walk her down the aisle," he admitted.

"I stayed here because Megumi literally begged me to stay," he bragged, causing you to roll your eyes as you secured the money.

"I think that's a different Megumi," you remarked dryly.

Not too long after, you closed the cafe, and you and Satoru began walking out onto the street. Despite wearing enough layers to keep warm, the cold still seeped through. "Cold," you muttered, not expecting him to hear.

"Here," he said, extending his hand towards you. You stared at him, puzzled. "What? Hold my hand so you can stay warm," he suggested.

"I don't think holding hands will be enough to warm me up," you replied skeptically.

"I can give you something more to warm you up," Satoru smirked, hinting at something suggestive. You rolled your eyes and were about to take his hand when suddenly you felt someone grope your butt. You flinched, and Satoru noticed, his protective instincts kicking in.

The guy who touched you continued walking as if nothing happened, but Satoru immediately pulled you behind him and called out to the guy, "Hey!" trying to catch his attention.

The guy turned around with an annoyed look. "What's your problem?" Satoru confronted him, his voice laced with anger.

The guy only chuckled. "What? It felt good," he said, his tone mocking.

Satoru's fist clenched at the guy's bold response, and without hesitation, he swung a punch, aiming for the guy's jaw. The blow landed with a solid thud, eliciting a grunt of pain from the guy.

"Stop it!" you shouted, rushing forward to try to intervene. But the guy, now furious, shoved you aside, causing you to stumble.

Satoru, fueled by rage, launched himself at the guy, grappling with him in a fierce struggle. Punches were exchanged, and the sound of grunts and impacts filled the air.

"Enough!" you cried out, attempting to pull Satoru away from the altercation. But he seemed lost in the heat of the moment, his focus solely on the guy who had dared to touch you.

Just when it seemed like the fight would escalate further, Satoru suddenly withdrew, his hand reaching for something at his waist. With lightning speed, he pulled out a gun, aiming it directly at the guy's face.

"Back off," Satoru growled, his voice cold and menacing. The guy's eyes widened in fear as he stumbled back, raising his hands in surrender.

The tension in the air was palpable as Satoru held the gun steady, his gaze unwavering. Finally, the guy turned and fled, disappearing into the night.

With a heavy breath, Satoru lowered the gun, the intensity of the moment slowly fading. You stood beside him, shaken by the sudden turn of events, but grateful for Satoru's protection.

You were about to hold his hand when Satoru turned around to you, quickly checking to see if you got hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. It felt like déjà vu.

"Me? Shouldn't it be you? Look, your knuckles are bleeding," you pointed out.

"Oh, this? It's nothing," he brushed it off as if he were accustomed to such situations.

You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. "Let's go to my house. I'll treat your wounds," you insisted.

Before he could reply, you already began pulling him towards your house. The cafe wasn't far from your place, and you were determined to take care of him.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing your pajamas—an oversized shirt and cotton shorts.

You sighed, realizing you had forgotten to wash your clothes, leaving you with no other option but to stick with this look.

Turning away from the mirror, you grabbed the first aid kit and headed to the living room.

As you stumbled into the living room, you froze at the sight of Satoru sitting on the couch, shirtless, engrossed in his phone.

"What the hell?" you blurted out, successfully catching his attention.

He glanced at you before tossing his phone aside and humming in response.

"Why are you shirtless?" you questioned, making your way toward him.

Satoru eyed you with a smirk before dramatically resting both elbows on the sofa's back.

"It's so hot, especially with you in front of me, princess," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment as you sat beside him and began to open the first aid kit.

"Give me your hand," you instructed, holding out your own hand. Satoru complied, extending his hand towards you.

As you started treating his wound, you noticed how surprisingly quiet he was.

It was odd to see him so subdued, considering the circumstances.

You guessed he was probably used to getting into fights and sustaining wounds—a stark reminder of his dangerous lifestyle.

You didn't notice how intensely Satoru was staring at you while you attended to his wound.

It had been years since he had been this close to you.

He thought he had done everything right back then, but he never expected you to leave and erase all traces of your past together.

As you finished bandaging his hand and stood up to put the first aid kit away, Satoru swiftly grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you close.

Before you knew it, you were sitting on his lap, your legs encircling him.

You were taken aback by the sudden turn of events, about to speak, but what Satoru said next caught you off guard.

"Happy birthday," he said softly, a gentle smile spreading across his face, melting your heart.

You felt tears welling up as Satoru was the first person to greet you on your birthday, even as the day was coming to an end.

"How... Do you know it's my birthday?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, I know. I'm in love with you. I know everything important to you," he replied, trying to make it sound sweet and romantic.

"That sounds like a stalker," you quipped, ruining the moment with your comment.

Satoru chuckled, but he sighed when you still hadn't returned the "I love you."

But he was willing to wait. He could say it a million times, even if you didn't say it back. He knew you'd return it someday.

You both stared at each other quietly, feeling the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air, reminiscent of times past.

"May I?" Satoru suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, and you snapped out of your thoughts, humming in reply.

"Kiss you?" he asked, his hand moving to your chin as his thumb gently caressed the bottom of your lips. It had been such a long time.

Instead of answering, you pulled him into a kiss, silently permitting him. Satoru didn't hesitate to respond, kissing you back with passion.

In that moment, everything felt right, and you wished it could stay that way forever.

"I thought you'd head back to Tokyo?" Megumi asked, annoyance evident in his tone, as he noticed Satoru at the coffee section preparing some coffee.

"Did I?" Satoru replied obliviously, seemingly unaffected by Megumi's irritation.

You could see the frustration in Megumi's eyes, ready to throw daggers at his guardian.

"We're fine here now, go back," Megumi instructed through clenched teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I don't want to," Satoru retorted, and you sighed, knowing this would escalate.

"Sorry, Megumi, I can't let him go," you apologized, trying to diffuse the tension.

"See, she needs me," Satoru declared proudly, his ego shining through.

"Yeah, since he attracts most of our new customers, so we really need him to sell some coffee," you explained, trying to be diplomatic.

"I thought you needed me because I'm good at it!" Satoru argued, his pride wounded.

"Yeah, you're good at attracting customers, that's all," you clarified, causing Satoru to sulk in the corner for at least a few minutes, his ego deflated.

You chuckled at his sulking behavior before heading over to him, offering to help him make the drinks.

As you worked side by side, showing him the ropes, you couldn't help but smile like an idiot whenever he made a mistake.

At that moment, you forgot about his status as one of the most dangerous men in the world. All you could see was him having fun, and it warmed your heart to see him enjoying himself.

It’s not even that long since you two talked again that your heart began to beat again just like it did 4 years ago.

A few days had passed since Satoru began helping out at the cafe, and you couldn't help but notice the significant changes.

More and more people were frequenting the cafe, eager to catch a glimpse of the infamous handsome "white-haired" guy.

You first noticed it when you took charge of the cashier while Megumi was on his break. Customers were stealing glances at Satoru, who was busy grinding coffee beans. Some even approached him to take pictures.

You had expected a few more customers after Satoru started helping out, but you never anticipated the inpouring people that now filled the cafe to the brim. Lines began forming outside as the cafe reached its capacity.

Even people from outside the countryside were making special trips just to see him.

It was clear that Satoru's presence had brought a newfound popularity to the cafe, and you couldn't help but feel both amazed and overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

You were deeply engrossed in calculating all the bills and expenses involved in managing the cafe when Megumi approached you.

"Hey, [Reader's Name]," he called out, and you responded with a distracted hum, still focused on your task.

"Look at this," Megumi said, showing you his phone.

You glanced at the screen to see a photo of Satoru serving a customer their order. It must have been taken on the day he first started helping out.

You squinted at the picture, trying to make out the details, but your attention was quickly drawn to the comments section below the photo.

People were raving about Satoru's appearance and charisma, expressing their excitement at having him at the cafe.

As you scrolled through the comments, you realized that this photo had garnered a lot of attention, with many users tagging their friends and making plans to visit the cafe themselves just to see Satoru in person.

‘OMG, who's the new guy at the cafe? 😍 He's so dreamy, I need to visit ASAP!’

‘Wow, the cafe just got a major upgrade! Can't wait to grab a coffee and maybe a date with the new cutie behind the counter! ☕️❤️’

‘I don't get what all the fuss is about. He's just another server, nothing special.’

‘Finally, some eye candy at the cafe! 😍 Who needs coffee when you have a sight like this to wake you up?’

‘Honestly, I'm not impressed. Looks like the cafe is trying too hard to attract customers with looks instead of focusing on quality drinks and service.’

It was clear that his presence had sparked a wave of interest and excitement, contributing to the cafe's newfound popularity.

As you scrolled through the comments, your eyes furrowed in annoyance at some of the hate comments directed towards the cafe and even your coffee.

"These people insulting my coffee," you muttered, your frustration evident.

Megumi stood beside you, watching you with concern, unsure of what you might do next.

Just as you were about to reply to one of the hate comments, Satoru suddenly snatched the phone from your hand.

"Damn, I looked good in this shot," he remarked casually as he looked at the photo, seemingly unfazed by the negative comments.

Satoru noticed the glare you directed at him.

"What? Am I that handsome?" he said, brushing his hair back with a smug grin.

"I don't care about your face, I care more about when people insult my coffee," you replied, frustration evident in your voice.

"Do they?" Satoru asked, seeming curious as he checked the comments.

You let out a sigh and returned to your calculations.

"Can I have my phone back?" Megumi interjected, feeling wary as Satoru held onto his phone.

Satoru glanced between you and the phone before suddenly shoving it into Megumi's chest. Luckily, Megumi managed to catch it.

"Hey!" he protested, but Satoru shushed him away, gesturing for him to go attend to his tasks.

Rolling his eyes, Megumi walked off to the storage room to check the products, leaving you and Satoru to deal with the situation.

As you were busy calculating, Satoru smirked and leaned in close to your ear, whispering, "But you make the best milk though." His sudden voice made you shiver, and you flinched away, squealing and covering your ear, cheeks flushing red.

Fortunately, it was closing time, and there were no customers around, just the two of you at the counter while Megumi was in the storage room.

Satoru gazed at you with an innocent smile that only seemed to annoy you further.

"You stupid!" you exclaimed, standing up abruptly and grabbing the papers you were calculating, along with the calculator.

You shoved them all towards Satoru before storming off to the storage room, leaving him there.

However, Satoru didn't quite interpret what you wanted him to do.

Instead of realizing you wanted him to help with the calculations, he took it as you handing him something to pay.

The next day, you were left confused when you received notifications that all your bills were paid, while Satoru stood in the corner, smiling innocently as he prepared drinks for the customers.

A couple of days later, after finishing some errands, you hurried back to the cafe to resume your duties. It was still 4 in the afternoon, and the chilly air urged you to quicken your pace.

Upon opening the door to the cafe, you were taken aback to see Megumi wearing an unpleasant expression as he conversed with a woman standing in front of him.

It was a sight you hadn't witnessed before, and it left you feeling puzzled.

Quickly approaching them, you intervened in their conversation. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" you asked, addressing both of them and drawing their attention to you.

Megumi swiftly pulled you closer to him, his usually calm demeanor replaced by a defensive stance that you rarely witnessed.

"I'm asking you to leave right now, Ma'am," he asserted, his tone laced with a hint of anger as he glared at the woman before him.

The woman scoffed. "Oh, come on 'Gumi, you can't treat me like that when I spent a few years babysitting you and your sister," she retorted, her words dripping with disdain.

You found yourself caught in the middle of their exchange, confused by the tension and the sudden revelation of Megumi's past relationship with the woman.

"Megumi, what's happening?" you asked, still held close to him as he engaged in this heated exchange with the woman.

"Just don't move, wait for Gojo-san to come here," he instructed firmly, intending it for you, but the woman overheard.

"I need to talk to Satoru, why won't you just let me?!" the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her tone.

"You know full well why Gojo-san doesn't want to talk to you," Megumi stated firmly, his glare piercing.

Just then, Satoru appeared, grabbing the woman's arm as she attempted to retrieve something from her bag.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he snapped, his voice laced with anger, and it was unsettling to witness him in such a furious state.

"I'm here trying to seek some answers as to why you won't accept the marriage?!" she shouted, her voice rising and drawing the attention of other customers.

Marriage?

Your mouth dropped open in shock at her revelation.

Satoru let out a frustrated tsk before speaking. "Will you stop, Ayaka? That was six years ago," he told her, his tone firm.

Your eyes widened as he mentioned her name. So, this was the Ayaka that everyone at the ball had been talking about.

As Megumi turned to you, attempting to guide you to the storage room, Satoru's eyes kept darting between the two of you.

Ayaka noticed this and became agitated. Without warning, she swiftly grabbed the gun from her bag and pointed it at you, her expression twisted with rage as she prepared to pull the trigger. But Satoru reacted swiftly.

“No!” He shouted as he seized her wrist and redirected the gun toward the ceiling just in time.

The deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the cafe, causing you to shout in shock as you instinctively hid in Megumi's chest, while he did his best to calm you down.

As chaos erupted in the cafe, customers scrambled in panic, shouting and rushing to escape. Some knocked over chairs and tables in their haste to flee, leaving only the four of you behind.

Satoru grappled with Ayaka, struggling to wrestle the gun from her grip, determined to prevent her from pulling another trigger that could harm you or Megumi.

The tension in the air was palpable as the struggle unfolded, and you and Megumi stood frozen, watching with wide eyes, unsure of how to intervene in the dangerous confrontation.

Satoru succeeded in disarming Ayaka and swiftly restrained her, holding both of her wrists behind her back as she dropped to the floor with a groan of pain.

He knelt beside her, his voice laced with frustration and anger as he addressed her.

"You know what? I'm so fed up with you. The only reason I haven't hurt you is because of your family's reputation, which you've protected so fiercely. Not only did you try to hurt Tsumiki back then, but you also tried to hurt [reader's name]," he told her sternly, his tone cutting through the tension in the room.

Satoru makes Ayaka stand up to her feet, exchanging a brief, apologetic glance with Megumi and then with you.

It was as if he could sense the turmoil of thoughts running through your mind.

"Take care of her, Megumi. I'll deal with this situation," Satoru instructed, his voice firm as he indicated Ayaka.

With that, he led Ayaka out of the cafe, leaving you and Megumi to catch your breath in the aftermath of the tense encounter.

"I didn't really expect her to find this place," Megumi muttered, but his words barely registered with you as your mind raced with questions demanding answers.

"Uhm, [reader's name], should we—" Megumi began, but his words trailed off as he surveyed the chaos left by the fleeing customers, then turned to see you collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

Concern etched his features as he knelt beside you, attempting to calm you down, but at that moment, you felt as though you were in a world of your own, where only thoughts of Satoru occupied your mind.

Satoru didn't return to the cafe after you and Megumi had helped each other clean up the mess. You closed the cafe early due to the broken ceiling, sighing as you arranged for someone to come and fix it the next day.

With the cafe closed for repairs, you had no choice but to cancel business for the day.

After Megumi left an hour ago, you locked the doors of the cafe and were about to head home when you noticed Satoru standing, his back against the wall.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached you.

You scoffed before turning on your heels and walking away. Satoru, confused, hurried his pace to grab your wrist.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. "It's nothing. Can you let go of my wrist?" you replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Don't tell me we're going back to being strangers again," he said, frustration creeping into his tone. Annoyed, you faced him. "What do you want me to do?" you asked.

"I want you to stop acting like a brat," he told you bluntly. You laughed sarcastically. "Me being a brat? My cafe was in chaos, Satoru, especially the ceiling because of that damn Ayaka," you told him.

"If that's all it is, I can pay for it," he said casually, as if money could solve everything. You groaned, hating the fact that he thought money was the answer to every problem.

"Fuck off! You're just going to add to the money I owe you," you frustratedly said, pulling your hands back.

You hurriedly left, not looking back as Satoru stood there alone, watching you disappear from his sight.

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair.

The cold night air bit at him, but it was nothing compared to the chill he felt from your words.

He knew he needed to find a way to bridge the gap between you, but right now, he felt lost.

As you were busy trying to calm yourself after all that chaos happened back in your cafe, you started feeling drowsy after watching a reality show for about 20 minutes.

Suddenly, you heard your doorbell, which confused you since you hadn’t heard it when you installed a gate last year.

You didn’t think much as you got out of the couch and headed to the door to open it.

As you opened the door, you were immediately surprised when someone pushed you inside, pinning you against the wall and successfully closing the door. You looked at the person to see it was Satoru.

"Satoru—" you tried to speak, but he cut you off.

"I hate it," he said. "I hate it when you ignore me and go back to acting as if we're strangers," he added, staring deeply into your eyes.

Satoru slowly leaned towards you, his intense gaze never wavering. "Do you really hate me that much?" he asked slowly, a hint of pain in his tone.

You didn't expect him to act like that, especially considering how prideful he usually is.

"It's not like that—" you tried to explain, but he interrupted you again.

"What do you want me to do to stop you from leaving?" he asked, his voice almost pleading.

You suddenly remembered the chaos earlier, wondering why Megumi hated Ayaka.

Satoru had only briefly mentioned it, but he didn't get the chance to explain further because of the sudden customers.

When Satoru noticed you not responding, he leaned in close, his hands on your waist, and softly kissed your collarbone.

"Tell me everything," you urged him.

"Like how did you find me here..." You paused as his hand moved up your thigh, dangerously close to your core, making you shut your thighs tight.

"And the story about why Megumi hates Ayaka," you managed to ask.

Satoru hummed as he patted your thigh, signaling you to lift it so he could carry you to the couch.

You quickly complied, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He gently laid you down and began placing soft kisses on your neck, his hand rubbing the outer lips of your clothed pussy.

You moaned softly, arching your back to give him better access to your collarbone.

"I always tried finding you when you disappeared," he began.

"I even threatened your boss to tell me your whereabouts or else I'd shut his place down," he added as you hummed, urging him to continue.

"But then, someone dropped your whereabouts."

"What?" you asked in a breathy tone, caught off guard.

"Fumiko, was it? Such a good friend for keeping your secret—until she wasn’t," he said, making your eyes widen.

"I guess she was tempted when I told everyone in that club to tell me where you were and I'd give them money. Seems like she was really desperate for it," Satoru continued.

His hand slowly removed your shorts, leaving you in your dark red panties, and you felt a flush of embarrassment.

Satoru chuckled when his eyes landed on the wet patch on your panties.

"It's been a while since I played with you," he said, talking to your pussy as if it were a person.

"Tell me more," you whined at him.

"I got Megumi to stay here and watch you," Satoru replied, his voice low and filled with intent.

"He'd give me updates on what you do." As he spoke, he began rubbing his two fingers against your pussy, moving them up and down to give attention to your clit and little hole.

You moaned softly, feeling the pleasure build.

"When I heard from Megumi that you were opening a shop, I insisted he join," Satoru added, his fingers still moving inside you.

That's why it was so weird to have Megumi that day, handing you a resume while dodging your suspicious look. It all made sense now.

You moaned louder, feeling a mix of frustration and pleasure. "So that's why," you managed to say, your voice breathy.

"You always had someone watching me."

Satoru leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "I couldn't bear to lose you again," he whispered, his fingers curling inside you just right, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Just as you were getting close, Satoru pulled away, leaving you whining from the emptiness.

"Shh, I just want you to cum on my dick, not my fingers," he whispered.

He hastily opened his zipper and pulled out his erect cock, its tip covered in pre-cum. You drooled at the sight, making Satoru chuckle.

"You missed this, didn't you?" he asked, to which you hummed in reply. "Put it in," you quickly told him, eager for him to fill you up once again.

Since you were already wet enough for him, Satoru gently inserted his cock, careful not to hurt you, and held both of your knees as he began to give you deep thrusts, making you feel as if you see the stars.

"Oh my— Satoru!" you moaned loudly at the euphoric sensation. "So— fucking tight," he groaned, increasing the intensity of his thrusts.

"Ngh— 'Toru," you began speaking, trying to catch his attention.

Suddenly, Satoru grabbed your wrist and pulled you, making you sit on top of him as he sat on the couch. You moaned lightly at the feeling of his cock.

"Give me a ride, angel, while I tell you more," Satoru said, putting his hand on your waist and helping you move. You moaned lightly in response.

"Ayaka and I were supposed to get married. We were fine until I came back to the apartment with Megumi and Tsumiki," Satoru spoke.

Even though you had your eyes closed, you nodded at what he was saying while riding his cock.

"I didn't know it would be the start of how Ayaka showed her true colors. She doesn't like Megumi and Tsumiki one bit.

I hated how I ignored them when they constantly told me how Ayaka acted differently toward them," he said.

"Like what?" you asked, stuttering from all the pleasure you were receiving.

"Like getting mad at them over small things. What I hated the most was when I left them alone with Ayaka. I didn't know that would be the day Ayaka would try to stab Tsumiki with a kitchen knife," Satoru told you.

You felt a sense of empathy for him. It must have been hard knowing the person you were supposed to marry was like that.

"But on the bright side, if that didn't happen, I would not have met you," he said with a smug expression as he began to control your pace in riding him.

You tried not to cum yet, pushing his hands away from your waist.

"I-I don't want to cum yet," you told him, moaning loudly as you clenched around him, trying to suppress your impending orgasm.

A deep groan left Satoru's mouth as he felt you clenching around him, making his cock twitch inside you.

"C'mon, princess, cum," he urged you, throwing a bunch of pet names your way. But you shook your head, unable to form a coherent reply amidst your moans.

Sensing your desire for him to take control, he gently stopped, allowing you to lay back as he got on top of you.

"Just stay still, princess," he said, his breath heavy as he began thrusting faster. You moaned louder, wrapping your hand around his back, scratching lightly in your ecstasy.

Satoru didn't complain about the scratches; instead, he whispered sweet reassurances in your ear, encouraging you to let go.

It was as if the only thing that mattered to him was that you reached your peak. Just before you climaxed, he whispered those three words you'd been waiting to hear:

"I love you." And with that, you came around him, clenching so hard that Satoru moved to your neck, lightly biting enough to leave a bruise.

Satoru paused, his breath still heavy as he lifted himself to look at you.

Tears still lingered in your eyes from the intense orgasm.

He tenderly wiped them away, his expression softening. But before he could speak, you surprised him by saying those three words back to him.

"I love you too."

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